Ten yards from the bottom I stepped on a sheet of metal that slid and sent me into the air like a snowboarder on a major wipeout. I landed hard and began to half rol, half slide down the slope, bringing with me an avalanche of pebbles, branches, leaves, and pinecones.

To stop my fal, I grabbed for a handhold, skinning my palms and tearing my nails before my left hand struck something solid and my fingers closed around it. My wrist jerked painfuly as it took the weight of my body, breaking my downward momentum.

I hung there a moment, then roled onto my side, puled with both hands, and scooched myself to a sitting position. Never easing my grasp, I looked up.

The object I clutched was a long metal bar, angling skyward from a rock at my hip to a truncated tree a yard upslope. I planted my feet, tested for traction, and worked my way to a standing position. Wiping bleeding hands on my pants, I retied my jacket and continued downward to level ground.

At the bottom, I quickened my pace. Though my terra felt far from firma, at least gravity was now on my side. At the cordoned-off area, I lifted the tape and ducked under.

'Whoa, lady. Not so fast.'

I stopped and turned. The man who had spoken wore a Swain County Sheriff's Department jacket.

'I'm with DMORT.'

'What the hel is DMORT?' Gruff.

'Is the sheriff on site?'

'Who's asking?' The deputy's face was rigid, his mouth compressed into a hard, tight line. An orange hunting cap rested low over his eyes.

'Dr. Temperance Brennan.'

'We ain't gonna need no doctor here.'

'I'l be identifying the victims.'

'Got proof?'

In mass disasters, each government agency has specific responsibilities. The Office of Emergency Preparedness, OEP, manages and directs the National Disaster Medical System, NDMS, which provides medical response and victim identification and mortuary services in the event of a mass fatality incident.

To meet its mission, NDMS created the Disaster Mortuary Operational Response Team, DMORT, and Disaster Medical Assistance Team, DMAT, systems. In officialy declared disasters, DMAT looks after the needs of the living, while DMORT deals with the dead.

I dug out and extended my NDMS identification.

The deputy studied the card, then tipped his head in the direction of the fuselage.

'Sheriff's with the fire chiefs.' His voice cracked and he wiped a hand across his mouth. Then he dropped his eyes and walked away, embarrassed to have shown emotion.

I was not surprised at the deputy's demeanor. The toughest and most capable of cops and rescue workers, no matter how extensive their training or experience, are never psychologicaly prepared for their first major.