Trust (Chasing Shadows) (3 page)

If I weren’t already dead, I’d joke that not being able to tune into Ella was killing me. She was harder to track than some of the enemies my Marine corps was sent to patrol. I couldn’t hear her thoughts and no matter how hard I tried to tune into her mind and connect the way we had been over the last month, all I heard was silence. It was an infuriating and frightening silence that was only punctuated by the occasional howl of a coyote.

But she was out here and I was feeling all the more desperate to find her. I had no connection to Ethan because Ella hadn’t fully let him into her life, not that I was totally broken up about that. Yet, it meant that I couldn’t trace her through him either. The two of them were on their own and as far as I could tell, neither one had found the other. Two people alone on a mountain with the cold dropping to the mid-40s tonight. It wasn’t freezing, but damn close, especially if you weren’t prepared for it.

It wasn’t just the weather that had me worried, but the trail itself. Even though Ella and I had visited this area regularly, we had never extended our walks to the neighboring Backbone Trail. If I couldn’t find Ella here, there was a chance she had headed farther into the mountains and would be there.

The trail stretched from Point Mugu to Will Rogers State Historic Park covering 65 miles, about 25,000 feet of elevation gain and loss, and all types of terrain. It was rough, rugged and dangerous, and it had my head spinning with worry over her.

I kept walking, and on the trails I saw different prints, the evidence of the animals that I hoped would stay in hiding. And that’s when a blast of cold air hit me. It wasn’t the wind, but a vision of the near future. I could finally see Ella and I knew just where she was headed, but it was beyond my control to warn her about what was to come. I saw her lying face down, 20 feet below. There was no way to warn her for she wasn’t letting me into her mind. And, there would be no way to communicate with her later if she ended up in this condition.

As much as I wasn’t ready to let her go, I found myself praying that Ethan would get to her soon.

“Slow down, you’re going to break something,” Nate yelled after me.

I remember how we chased each other while on our hikes, but when I would get too gung ho, he’d always try to reel me in.

“You’re just embarrassed to have your ass kicked by a girl!” I called out while easily maneuvering the dips of the trail.

“No you don’t,” Nate laughed. “I’m letting you beat me because otherwise you’ll cry like a girl.”

“Tough talk for a Marine,” I said and eased my pace so he could catch me.

“Did I really catch you or did you slow down?” Nate asked, wrapping his tanned arms around me. I felt so small in his muscled embrace. It felt safe as I laid my head against his strong chest and sighed as the sound of his heartbeat soothed me.

“Put it this way...” I said, glancing up at him, “what’s the fun of not being caught?”

“I should have your hide for that comment. Instead, you can have this,” he bent down and picked me a flower, a beautiful lavender colored one with delicate leaves that grew in a cluster. “It’ll look pretty in your hair.”

After I had tucked it behind my ear he smiled and added, “Actually, you make the flower look more beautiful, not the other way around.”

During the day I had spotted several plant communities, such as Coastal Sage Scrub, Oak Woodland and Sycamore Savannah, but on this part of the trail, only one flower was in bloom. I bent down to pick the Chaparral Currant that blooms from October through March and placed it behind my ear just as I had done the last time Nate had given it to me. I marveled how even in the darkening sky, its purple blossoms were bright.

Nate and I had taken a few night hikes, but we had planned for them. Actually, Nate was the one who had always made plans. Now I was on my own. I had the chance to turn back earlier, but I didn’t take it; and now, I might have to admit that may have been a mistake. I stopped once again, trying to get my bearings, but it was no use. I had started running so fast to get away from my own mind and memories, but now I was a bit turned around.

I listened intently, hoping to hear sounds of any other hikers, but naturally at this hour, there was only silence. I knew that I had covered at least eight miles going up and down, through possibly four different canyons. My knowledge of the area recalled their names: Trancas, Zuma, Newton, and Latigo, but I had no idea which one I was currently on.

I pulled a berry off a nearby plant as my stomach had begun to grumble. I knew that the plants provided an important staple for the indigenous people such as the Chumash as well as early settlers of the area. Plants and flowers were used for medical purposes in the form of teas, while the berries from the Himalayan honeysuckle and acorns from the Oak trees were a food staple.

I found a few acorns on the ground and began munching, but it didn’t do much to satisfy my mounting hunger. The fact that I hadn’t eaten properly was also contributing to my drop in body temperature and lack of concentration. I shivered and realized that I wasn’t even moving like my usual self. Each bump and rock on the ground threatened to cause my ankle to twist. The sudden dips in the trail sent shock waves through me as I realized I wasn’t anywhere close to where Nate and I used to hike.

I had made my way past our usual vantage point, clearing over the mountain and having continued through the Calabasas grade and over the next peak. The full moon lit the trail, showing that it was far narrower in this stretch than the one I was familiar with. It twisted and turned at hard angles, dropping low and then taking on steep climbs.

When I got to the rise of yet another new incline, there was a fork and I chose to continue upwards thinking that I might get high enough to catch a view of the entire range and therefore, figure out where I was. It was unlikely considering the hour, but it still seemed like my best option. If I got high enough, I’d be able to see the valley below and perhaps even spot where I had left my car. I climbed higher, totally unaware that recent rains had washed out part of the trail. I took one step too many.

Fear didn’t immediately hit me because I fell before being aware of the danger. But once airborne, my scream automatically erupted as I slid over the ledge and dropped about twelve feet. I thought of Nate and soon after, Ethan. I remember trying to call for help, but it only came out like a whisper as I landed hard. It didn’t matter. There was nobody nearby to hear me. My entire body ached with a searing pain, and then there was nothing at all.

Even though I hiked these trails every weekend, I had never run into Ella until a week before she ended up at the hospital. I sometimes wonder if meeting her here on the trail, where she was obviously in her element, had made a difference to my impression of her in the hospital. She was so strong and athletic when I saw her. Hell, she even dodged an oncoming car on the highway above us. But then, seeing her recover from Nate’s death and the accidental drug interaction that put her in my care presented her in another light. I wanted to help. I wanted to make her whole again.

Thoughts of her propelled me forward and I found myself jogging. I went past the area where I first encountered Ella, looking for the section where we had met once our counseling sessions began. That area wasn’t as clear in my mind -- both the trail and what exactly those sessions meant. I took the fork that looked as if it led to the one we were on earlier, but there was no sign of Ella.

I stopped again to take in the bends of the trail. One way led to higher ground, the other path took on more twists and turns that led deeper into the canyon. It would be darker down there and even though Ella was on a mission to find herself and spend time alone, she couldn’t possibly think that going down that path at night was a good idea. I kept climbing, believing that she would have done the same.

The sheer bravery or craziness it took to do a night hike was beyond me. Then again if circumstances were different, I would have wanted to be here with her. The moon lit up the trail dramatically and I recalled the way Ella’s face beamed as bright as the moonlight when she spoke about nighttime hikes being magical with the fragrance of night blooming Jasmine and the Bigberry Manzanita. She was correct in her assessment that daytime hikers never get this full of an experience.

I vowed that on another occasion I would bring her back and properly enjoy the peacefulness and beauty of the trail at night, but in this moment, my worried heart beat so loudly that it nearly interfered with the quiet of the night. I placed a hand on the dog tags that once belonged to my grandfather that I wore around my neck. I looked up once more at the moon and analyzed the situation, relying on honed instinct garnered from years as an Eagle Scout, the countless lessons he had provided me about survival, as well as what I had been taught in medical school about human nature. I forged ahead, hoping my instincts were correct and she had started off in the same direction we had taken earlier.

The sound of coyotes howling wasn’t a noise I relished, but then hearing what sounded like Ella’s voice -- just a quick yelp and then nothing -- was even worse.

I touched my hand to the dog tags once more, considering a silent prayer that I would find her and bring her back safe and sound. I called her name, but when no response came, the psychiatrist in me wondered if I had wanted to find her so badly that I only imagined hearing her voice.

I had never served in the armed services although I came from a long line of men who had. I had always wanted to help people, but in a different way and so I attended medical school, but now I was hoping that the years in scouts and the countless camping trips that my father and grandfather had taken me on when I was younger would serve me well.

Hopefully their years of advice and guidance, combined with my own experiences and training would get me through tonight, but a little miracle couldn’t hurt. And that’s when I saw two deep lines cutting across the trail and straight over the ledge. They were freshly made and deeper than the ground on either side of them as if something or someone had recently caused them by sliding out of control.

My heart leapt into my throat as I peered over the edge. I didn’t want to find Ella down there and yet, I still held out hope that she was near. The sky had already gone too dark to decipher anything below, but a gut feeling that Ella needed me made me want to uncover every possibility. Something had gone over that edge. If I were to find out who or what, I had to go over it as well.

He wasn’t a bloodhound, but he was getting closer. I guess being a medical resident and working to become a psychiatrist helped him to empathize with Ella. I’d give him that much, even though he was too young to have any real life experiences.

Maybe he could analyze her mind and make some wise deductions, but he didn’t have my life experiences. He didn’t have our bond. Although, I couldn’t deny that they had formed some sort of connection.  

I didn’t like to admit it, but perhaps he and I weren’t all that different from each other. The fact that the men in his family had been military, like me. He had picked up some survival skills along the way. He couldn’t track in the same manner that I was trained, yet I hoped his instincts would help him find her soon.

She had been forging ahead like there was no tomorrow. She tuned me out, but for a split second I could feel her presence, and what I felt was fear. It scared me as well, and just as quickly as I had felt the connection, it vanished again.

My mind felt like it was in a fog as I faded in and out of a painful sleep. One minute I was considering what had become of my life, the next I was airborne, free-falling off the hiking trail. I don’t know how far I fell only that my head was throbbing and only seemed to subside when I closed my eyes. For the briefest of moments when I could hold them open, I could make out the sound of Ethan’s voice calling my name.

If I closed my eyes, it was Nate’s voice I heard. He sounded worried, and I wondered if that meant the fall was worse than I knew. Could he be calling me to join him in some other way? It hurt too much to think. I allowed my lids to drop once more as I fell into slumber.

#  #  #

It must’ve been at least an hour later that I woke again. My mouth felt dry. My legs were asleep, and my left arm, which was still in a cast from the car accident last month, had nearly broken free of the plaster. It was due to come off next week anyway. Ironically, the cast probably saved my arm from breaking again seeing that all of my weight was focused on that side of me. All in all, I was relatively unharmed considering the fall.

I lay still for another moment, working to clear my head. Gingerly, I tried to move the leg that I had landed on. It was stiff and hurt like hell, but it wasn’t broken. I turned my attention to my arm. Because it was in the cast, it was difficult to feel, but I suppose  that was a blessing. The plaster around my thumb was now cracked as was the area surrounding my wrist. I broke off a few loose bits, thankful that the part that rose closer to my elbow, where the break occurred still seemed intact. My two previously broken ribs were now aching from the fall as well. The only saving grace was that after dropping so far, I actually managed to land on a grassy patch, avoiding all rocks.

I strained my eyes in the moonlight and to my surprise I could see a placard that held a plastic sheath with some sort of directory inside. On the front it read simply, “The Backbone Trail.”

Everything that Nate and I had heard or read about the Backbone Trail had put us off actually trying it. The brochures and writings weren’t created for the faint of heart. This was a rigorous trail meant to be attempted only after one trains to do so. Or, if you have a serious reason to get out of Dodge and convene with nature. I’d say losing the guy I couldn’t imagine ever being without and meeting his ghost placed me in an elite category. Top that with the knowledge that my sister and co-workers believe that I had lost my mind. Finally, there was the incident in which I met the doctor who was meant to heal my messed up head, but ended up touching my heart. Yep, I’d say that pretty much qualified me as in need of this challenge.

I flipped open the pages and saw a long list of names and a feeling of sheer elation filled me. I had been rotating my ankles and stretching my arms. The pins and needle tingling had subsided and I felt that I could stand. In fact, for the first time in weeks, I felt like my head was in one piece. Although if others knew what I was considering to attempt on my own, they may have thought differently. But, I wanted this. I needed a test of strength to prove to myself that I was strong enough to go on without Nate. I had survived that car accident and now this fall for a reason.

Nate had always talked about wanting to hike the Backbone Trail, an eight-day, guided hike that was led twice a year. I let my fingers trail over the log once more, taking in the list of names, before heading off. If they did it, I could do it. I was fitter than most, and certainly more motivated. So what if I didn’t have company or an official guide -- just maybe I did.