Not seeing another soul, she turned and walked up the double-track dirt trail a short distance, looking up at the olive trees perched on the hillside.
“Jenny! Carrie!”
Her voice shook with a rising wave of anxiety.
I’m all alone.
She turned back to the shaded spot under the trees where only minutes before she had felt completely at peace. Only now, she felt a fear unlike anything she had ever known. She knew where she was, and she knew how to get back to Scorpion Ranch, but she didn’t want to make the hike alone. She didn’t want to leave her friends all alone.
“Jenny! Carrie!”
Cassidy choked back a sob as she quickly unclipped her hammock from the trees and packed it away in its built-in stuff sack. She tossed it and the straps into her backpack, slung it over her shoulder, then knelt to tie her shoes. Her fingers trembled as she worked the laces, but she finally managed. With one more hopeless look around the picnic area for clues that might lead to her friends, she took off running up the trail.
It was a steep climb out of the cove, and her legs burned after less than one hundred yards, but she dug deep into what her high school coach had called her “reservoir of desire” to push through it. By the time she had reached the top of the hill a mile later, her lungs were on fire, and she felt light-headed. But she pushed on.
Three miles to go, she thought.
She took a moment to sip from her hydration bladder, but she barely noticed the lukewarm water she swallowed. Her eyes were wide with fright, scanning the surrounding grass-covered hills and Montañon Ridge to her west but still not seeing another soul. She looked at her watch again, then spurred herself onward.
Two miles later, she spotted the cypress tree grove Jenny had insisted on visiting and felt an instant longing for her friend. “Where are you, Jenny?”
But she knew the grove meant she was close to her destination. The aching in her legs had faded away almost to numbness, but her lungs felt raw, and her breathing had a rasp to it that hadn’t been there before.
Less than a mile.
She lowered her head and picked up her pace, refusing to look at her watch for fear that she would see she had failed. Jenny and Carrie had been the better hikers. They would have made it. She didn’t want to let them down by missing the boat.
When she rounded the corner at the switchback, she looked down into Scorpion Anchorage and saw the catamaran pulling up to the pier. The beach was awash with other day-trippers clambering for the pier and their ride back to Ventura.
“No!” she shouted.
This part of the trail had a steep drop on her right into the valley below, but unlike when the three friends had hiked up earlier in the day, Cassidy abandoned all caution and sprinted down the hill. All that mattered was getting there before the boat left. Jenny and Carrie had to be there waiting for her.
When she reached the valley floor, Cassidy skittered around a dense clump of coastal pines and almost ran into a park ranger.
“Whoa,” the blond woman said. “You’re cutting it close, but you’ll make it.”
“My friends…” She was breathless and gasped for air as she gripped the ranger’s shoulders and looked into her eyes. “My friends…”
The park ranger looked over Cassidy’s shoulder as if to spot the danger she was fleeing from, then back down at her. “What about your friends? Are they okay?”
“They’re…” She fought for control over her breathing and swallowed against the bile rising in her throat. “They’re missing!”
If Tiffany was being honest, it wasn’t the first time somebody had gone missing on the island. And it certainly wasn’t the first time somebody had missed the boat back to the mainland either. But when the pale brunette practically bowled her over with panic, it took all her strength not to lash out at her for being irresponsible.
After calming the girl somewhat, she walked with her to the pier, where the catamaran was in the process of loading passengers for the return trip. Tiffany escorted the girl up the pier, casting questioning glances at other women about the girl’s age who might have been the two potentially missing friends. Tiffany thought it likely the two girls had become disoriented and had decided on the smart course of action by returning to the pier.
But after a quick search of almost all sixty people already on board, she had to admit that maybe there was something to the girl’s story. Just to be sure, she walked both the upper and lower decks a second time, then disembarked to the pier, where she scanned the beach and surrounding hills.
The brunette approached her. “What are we going to do?”
As the park ranger on duty, it was Tiffany’s responsibility to find the missing persons. But she didn’t need a frantic civilian rushing her search and rescue operation. She leveled her gaze on the girl. “You are going to get on the boat and go home. I have the information I need. I’ll find them and get them back to the mainland.”
“But…”
Tiffany guided her back onto the boat. “No buts,” she said. “You three will be laughing about this over margaritas by Sunday.”
The girl seemed to relax at that comment but still appeared a little hesitant as she returned to take her seat outside on the lower deck. Tiffany gave her a slight wave, then turned back for the ranch, where she could make her missing persons report and begin what was sure to be a long night looking for the women.
How hard is it to stick to the trails?
When she reached the ranger station, she walked inside and sat down in a cheap swivel chair in front of the duty desk. She knew the island like the back of her hand and would take the truck to search the roads most visitors used for hiking, but she wanted to notify Coast Guard Sector Los Angeles-Long Beach so they could begin mobilizing assets before it got too late. For as big as the island was, a helicopter with infrared search capability might make her job just a little bit easier.
“Why’s it always happen on a Friday?”
31
Beth sat in her chair on the bridge and yawned, looking out across the bow of her ship as they crisscrossed the Point Mugu Sea Range. She had worried how her crew might respond to the excitement from the night before, but as she walked the deck plates earlier that morning, she was surprised to hear very little scuttlebutt on the topic. Nothing about the swirling orbs of light that had harassed them for half an hour. Nothing about the F-35C that had almost crashed into them.
“Afternoon, ma’am,” Master Chief said in greeting as he approached.
“Master Chief.”
“Beautiful day on the water,” he said.
“Another fine Navy day.” It sounded trite, but the water west of San Clemente Island was unusually calm and almost seemed to blend in with the horizon. If not for the faint outline of San Nicolas Island rising out of the water in front of them, it would have been hard to discern where the Pacific Ocean ended and the sky began.
He leaned forward and looked through the windows at the broad expanse of ocean surrounding them. “The surface picture is clear,” he said in an offhanded manner.
She nodded. “It seems merchant vessels really do pay attention to the Notices to Mariner.”
Master Chief knew she was telling a joke, but his face remained impassive. “We should be on station within the hour and can commence flight ops to clear the seascape around the… target.”
She grinned.
“You don’t like it, do you?” Beth saw it in his body language. He didn’t like the idea of sinking what had once been a United States Navy ship any more than she did.