Chapter 3

chapter

three

As they reached the ridge, Lucy paused, squinting through the rain to try and spot the fire watchtower in the distance. But the stormy gloom obscured their view, and all she could make out was a vague dark smudge rising above the trees that she hoped was their destination.

Beside her, Sawyer stood still, gaze turned towards the heavens, letting the rain kiss his face. His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply, capturing and cataloging every scent that the rain carried.

How was he so calm?

The air was thick with the storm's wild energy, and yet Sawyer seemed as serene as ever. His presence beside her was grounding, a sturdy pillar in the chaos of the storm. He turned towards her, sensing her gaze on him. A wry smile touched his lips.

"Can't see a damn thing through this rain, can we?" Sawyer's calm voice pulled Lucy from her thoughts. His face still tilted upwards, an almost serene expression across his features.

"No," she admitted. "We can't."

"The storm is lessening. I can feel the shift in the temperature and the wind."

She could barely hear him over the roaring gusts of wind but took some comfort in his certainty. "I hope you're right."

Sawyer gently grazed his fingers over her trembling arm, causing an unexpected spark of warmth to shoot through her body. "Trust me," he said softly. "And trust yourself. You know where we're going. Let's keep moving."

Lucy swallowed hard. Trust wasn't something that came easily for her anymore. But there was something in his unwavering confidence that began to soothe her gnawing doubts. "Okay," she said, nodding more to herself than to him. She turned to the group. "We'll keep heading east."

"Where's the tower?" Chuck Grassley asked.

"It's there. We just can't see it yet." She gestured vaguely in the direction they'd been hiking.

Chuck glowered. He wasn't convinced. But as Lucy looked back toward Sawyer, she was met with a reassuring nod. That was enough.

"We can't just keep dragging my boy all over this mountain with a broken leg."

"I'm okay, Dad," Joel said faintly.

"No, you're not," Chuck said, leaving no room in his tone for argument. He turned back to Lucy, fire blazing in his eyes. He pointed at Joel's leg. It was wrapped up as tight as they could get it with what they had on hand. "You're supposed to be guiding us out of here. You're supposed to know what you're doing. Instead, you're leading us in circles!"

"Easy now," Sawyer said, his voice still calm. "We're all scared and?—"

Chuck's face went red, and he took a step toward Sawyer, his chest puffing like a rooster's. "I'm not scared."

Zelda's ears flattened, and a low grumble pumped from her throat. Sawyer set a soothing hand on her head.

"Of course not," he said, still in that steady, placating tone. "We're all relying on each other here. So, let's stay calm and focused. It's the best thing we can do for Joel right now."

Chuck jabbed a finger toward Sawyer. "I don't know why anyone is listening to him . He's fucking blind. We should be going down the mountain."

"Dad, stop," Joel said.

"Because he's blind, not stupid," Bea said from the back of the group, her face as hard as granite. She stepped forward, squaring up to Chuck in a show of solidarity with Sawyer. "And I'd follow him and Ranger Harper into hell a million times over before I'd follow you anywhere. They're more capable than you've ever dreamed of being."

Chuck opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came out. He sputtered, face red as a cherry. With an angry huff, he turned to help Joel up. "We'll see who's more capable when the shit hits the fan." Chuck grunted, heaving Joel onto his feet despite the younger man's protests of pain. They trudged ahead, heading east, their forms swallowed by the misty veil of rain.

"It'll be okay when we get to the tower," Theodore said and scurried after them like a frightened rabbit.

Lucy looked at Bea in silent gratitude. Bea nodded before turning to follow her husband. "Hang on, Theo. Let me go first."

Sawyer and Lucy hung back a moment longer. She squinted toward the watch tower again, but still couldn't pick it out of the gloom.

God, she hoped it was still standing.

Zelda sat at their feet, her tail brushing over the wet grass as she watched them with her intelligent eyes.

"It's not going to get any easier," Sawyer finally said, and she turned to look at him. For once, he didn't look calm. He was worried, too. Even without sight, he still seemed to see everything. "The longer this drags out, the more unhinged he'll get. Guys like that don't handle powerlessness well."

Lucy nodded, tugging nervously at the end of her ponytail. She was very aware the situation was a powder keg and Chuck was the lit fuse. One wrong move, one wrong decision on her part and the group would explode into chaos.

"I can handle Chuck," she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

"Who's going to handle you?" Sawyer asked gently.

She frowned at him. "What?"

"You're taking too much on your shoulders, Luce. You can't carry the weight of each one of us."

She whirled on him, outrage burning through her. "Are you saying I'm not strong enough?"

"No," he said quickly, reaching out to grasp her arm. Once he found it, his hand slid down to hers, his fingers lacing through hers. "I'm saying you don't have to be. Not all the time. Lean on me. Let me take some of that weight."

She stared at him for a heartbeat then looked down at their clasped hands, her throat suddenly dry. She swallowed hard, the words "I need you" threatening to tumble from her lips. She couldn't say them, though. Wouldn't allow herself that vulnerability.

"We should catch up with the others," she said, her voice surprisingly steady considering she was shaking all over. "If we hurry, we'll reach the tower before nightfall."

He nodded and let her pull her hand from his. His fingers hovered for a moment in the air before he dropped his hand to his side. "You're right. Lead the way."

They found the rest of the group huddled under an overhang of rocks providing some protection from the rain. Chuck was pacing like a caged animal while Bea and Theodore exchanged worried glances. Joel lay propped against a boulder, his face pale and drawn with pain.

"We can't stay here long," Lucy said. "We're too exposed and the terrain is unstable. We're moving to the tower."

"But it's pouring buckets," Chuck protested, his hands on his hips. "Joel can't walk all that way. We barely made it a hundred yards before he had to stop."

"As much as I hate to agree with him, he's right." Bea swiped the rainwater from her face. "The kid can't make the walk."

"I'm sorry," Joel muttered, his eyes brimming with tears.

"It's okay," Sawyer said easily. "We can make a stretcher. It won't be comfortable, but it will save you from walking and?—"

"Easy for you to suggest," Chuck spat. "You won't be carrying it."

"No, not unless you want more broken bones," Sawyer said with a lightness that didn't quite match the hardness in his eyes. "But I can help make it, and I can help guide. I know these mountains."

"He does," Theodore spoke up. "He knows his stuff. He's hiked the entire Pacific Crest Trail and the Colorado Trail through the Rockies."

When everyone looked at Theodore, he flushed.

"I… I've read all the articles about you," he added faintly. "What you do, how you do it, is fascinating."

There was a beat of silence as Chuck stared at them all incredulously. "You're not seriously suggesting we let the blind man lead us."

" I will be leading us," Lucy said. "But Sawyer does know these mountains as well as I do. Maybe better. So I'd appreciate it if you kept your disparaging comments about his abilities to yourself from now on, Mr. Grassley."

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."

Maya exhaled a shaky breath, looking between Lucy and Sawyer with relief in her fear-filled eyes. "Please hurry. I'm scared."

"I know." Sawyer touched his stick to the tree trunk several times as if he were assessing, then he put a hand on Lucy's arm and moved her down the length of the tree toward Maya's feet.

"Where are you going?" Maya cried.

"Just over here," Sawyer said, still in that steady, calming tone. "I promise we won't go far, and we'll be right back to you."

"Fucking hell," Lucy muttered as she joined him, her gaze riveted on the trapped woman. The situation was dire, and they both knew it. The tree was colossal; even with everyone's combined strength, they wouldn't be able to lift it off her.

"What do you think?" she asked Sawyer, keeping her voice low.

His head cocked to the side as he let his hand trail over the bark of the tree. His face was set in a contemplative frown, his sky-blue eyes distant and unfocused.

"Zelda," he said suddenly. The labrador perked up at the sound of her name, her tail wagging once before she settled back down, ears pricked attentively. He looked back toward Lucy. "Guess her favorite pastime."

"Sawyer, we don't have time for?—"

"Digging."

"Oh." Then his meaning hit her. " Oh . We dig Maya out."

He nodded. "The ground is soft enough for it."

"Also soft enough to cause another landslide if we don't do it right. Or the tree could roll onto her and crush her. Or us. There are a million ways this could go wrong."

Sawyer's calm smile didn't falter. It was both reassuring and annoying as hell. "And one way it could go very right," he said. "It's a risk, but leaving her is certain death."

He was right. She knew it, but it didn't ease the knots in her belly. "Stay with her. Talk to her. I'll get the others down here."