Page 10 of Searching Blind

Chuck sputtered, cheeks puffed up with indignation. But before he could retort, a violent wind whipped through the space, snatching away his breath and words. The hikers instinctively huddled closer together, Lucy and Sawyer on either end of the huddle anchoring it.

As the wind subsided, Lucy let out a shuddering breath. “We can’t afford any more delays. We don’t want to be out here when the sun sets. Bea, Theodore, find something sturdy to use as poles.”

Chuck scoffed loudly from where he was stooping over Joel but didn’t bother retorting. Lucy was relieved; risking another argument could cost them precious time - time they didn’t have.

Sawyer slid his pack off his back and knelt to open it. Zelda sat by his side, his faithful sentinel, her ears perked up and trained on the storm.

“Help me with this,” Sawyer said, drawing a folded tarp from his bag and shaking it out.

Lucy stepped forward and caught the flapping edge of it. Together, they stretched it out and began to fasten it to the thick branches Bea and Theodore had found. With each movement, Lucy was acutely aware of Sawyer’s firm, steady presence beside her. His fingers brushed against hers as they worked, the contact fleeting but sizzling.

Finally, the stretcher was ready. It was a crude contraption but sturdy enough to hold Joel’s weight.

Joel’s face had lost most of its color and he was breathing heavily. Chuck stood watch over him, his usual bluster replaced with a palpable fear. For all of his faults, the man did care about his son.

“All right,” Lucy said. “Let’s get you on this, Joel. We need to move out.”

They moved as gently as they could, but Joel still hissed in pain as they shifted him onto the makeshift stretcher.

Sawyer crouched at the head of it, his hand resting on Joel’s trembling shoulder. “Hang in there, buddy. We’re going to get you out of here.”

Chuck took the back end of the stretcher while Bea stepped up to help guide at the front. Theodore walked alongside them, his eye on their footing as they navigated the rocky terrain.

They descended the ridge, the storm slowly blurring into a fine mist around them. Lucy led the way with Sawyer and Zelda close behind, his hiking stick clicking rhythmically against the rocks.

Suddenly, he stopped and cocked his head, his brow furrowing as something caught his attention. “Do you hear that?”

Lucy strained her ears, the steady patter of rain against the leaves of the towering redwoods all she could detect at first. Then, subtly, it came to her— a voice. Female. Calling for help.

“Stay here,” she told the group, and without a second thought, she was off, her worn hiking boots skidding over the wet underbrush. Sawyer was right behind her, his sure-footed stride never faltering. He moved with a fluid grace that never failed to amaze Lucy; she knew he wasn’t seeing the world as she did, but he navigated it just as deftly— perhaps even more so.

“I told you to stay behind.”

He snorted. “And I didn’t listen. Let’s move. Someone needs help.”

“God, you’re stubborn.”

They picked their way through the undergrowth, following the fading voice.

A fallen tree blocked their path.

And beneath it, trapped and crying out for help, was a woman clothed in torn hiking gear. Her pale face was dotted with grimy tears, and she gasped for breath, her eyes wide with fear. “Help! Please. Help.”

“Fuck,” Sawyer murmured. “How bad is she hurt?”

Lucy skidded down a short embankment to the woman. “Hi, my name is Lucy. I’m a park ranger. What’s your name?”

“Maya,” she gasped. “Maya Thompson. I was… I was here taking pictures. I’m a photographer. And the earthquake hit and—and I can’t feel my legs.”

“Okay, Maya. Let me see what we’re dealing with here.” She moved around Maya’s head and looked down the length of the tree. It was a massive redwood, its roots uprooted by the earthquake. “It’s got you pinned, huh?” She tried to keep her tone as light as possible even as her heart threatened to pound out of her chest.

This was bad.

Maya nodded, her eyes glassy with pain and fear. “It... hurts.”

“We need help!” Lucy shouted over her shoulder, hoping to hail their group up the slope. But before she could make out any response, Sawyer skidded down the embankment and crouched beside her.

“Hey there, Maya,” he greeted congenially. “Sawyer Murphy. I can’t see you, but my dog Zelda here can give me a good idea.” He gestured toward the lab who nuzzled Maya’s cheek and made her sob out a short laugh. “Zelda and I are with Redwood Coast Rescue. We’re gonna get you free.”

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