1. Chapter One

Chapter One

N atalie

Considering I spend weeks at a time in this cabin high on Mount Baldy near Los Angeles, you'd think I'd be prepared for anything. I started my trek early this morning when the clear blue sky was dotted with gauzy clouds, the mountain air carried the crisp scent of pines, and it was cool enough for layers, yet warm enough that I wasn't freezing.

Over the last hour, clouds have rolled in, the sky has turned the color of smoke, and all my layers aren't quite enough to keep the fall chill out of my bones. Although I'd planned on searching for Larry until close to dark, I should probably head back early.

"You're an elusive devil, Larry," I mutter to the lynx who has become my nemesis.

A few years ago, one of my colleagues tagged the juvenile with a GPS tracker. He's become a prolific breeder—I guess you could call him a manwhore—and finding him will lead us to some of his lady friends so I can study their breeding habitats. Too bad his GPS has been fritzing lately. That's why I want to find him, dart the poor guy, and equip him with a new chip.

Even though my nose is freezing and I'm stopping my search early, I take a moment to be thankful. If I'd made different choices, I would be sitting in a cube farm right now, just one worker bee in a sea of other worker bees .

Instead, I studied hard, got my master's in wildlife biology, and snagged a great job doing what I love. Part-time here in the field, high in the mountains above L.A., and part-time at the Wilderness Guardians Alliance office in the city. Best of both worlds—lots of alone time for the introvert in me, and the opportunity for human connections back in the city.

A storm is definitely rolling in. If I were a betting woman, I'd wager the temp has dropped at least five degrees in the last hour. I debate for a moment and decide to take the quicker path back to the cabin.

I seldom go that way. It's half the distance, but the pines are so thick I can rarely see the sky. Also, I'll admit that having to walk across the fallen tree trunk that acts as a bridge over a steep ravine puts my nerves on edge.

Although I'm pretty intrepid—I live out in the middle of nowhere six months a year—heights scare me. All I need to do is picture a fire in my little fireplace and a cup of steaming tea to warm me from the inside out, and I decide to take the shorter route.

"Tally, what were you thinking?" My words come out in a puff of smoke, telling me the temp has probably dropped another ten degrees.

As I stand staring down the edge of the chasm, I shake my head. Not only does the height give me the shivers, but the tree has shifted since the last time I was here. Instead of being firmly lodged into the ground on the other end, it's barely balancing near the crumbling edge of the gap.

Because I don't want to chance walking over the unstable tree-bridge, I'll have to backtrack to go home on the regular route, which will get me home after dark.

Although I don't want to waste a minute, I pull off my backpack and pull out my two-way radio to call the team back at the L.A. office. With darkness approaching and inclement weather coming in—possibly a storm, maybe even snow, although it's a bit early for that—I should keep them up-to-date on my status .

"Hey, Alton?" I say after we connect. "Major weather's coming in here."

"Really? It's freaking beautiful down here."

"Yeah. Enjoy it because if I don't miss my guess, I think it's going to snow here soon. Just wanted to tell you I'm out in the field."

"Did you find Larry?"

"The evil little shit continues to outsmart me. Hey…" My mouth is dry, maybe because of the urgency to get home before this storm hits. I walk back to the tree-bridge to reassess. Maybe I can make it across after all.

"It's…" I glance at my watch, "almost 4:30. I'm going to check in hourly, just to be safe."

"Whoa!"

I'm the farthest thing from a drama queen. I imagine my decision for hourly check-ins surprises him.

"Got it, Tally. Hey, be safe. And… if you miss a check-in?"

"Might be the weather and malfunctioning equipment."

"Riiight, and?"

"Might be worse."

"Tally, I've hiked with you. You're great at this. Take care, and I'm sure you'll be fine."

"Thanks. Talk to you at 5:30."

As I end the call and pack away the radio, a gust of icy wind nearly knocks me off balance. I pull my jacket tighter around me and take a step closer to the edge of the chasm, gauging the distance once more. The tree bridge creaks ominously in the wind, the far end shifting ever so slightly.

I shake my head. It's too risky. I'll have to take the long way back.

As I turn to leave, the toe of my boot catches on a protruding root. I stumble, trying to regain my footing, but the ground is slick with fallen leaves. My throat tightens as I feel myself pitching backward, the yawning void of the chasm looming beneath me.

I open my mouth to scream, but the sound is lost in the howling wind as the world tilts and darkness rushes up to meet me.