Whispers in the Dark

by Chris Eboch

  “Idiot,” I muttered. “When your instincts say get help, listen!” I’d taken independence and overcoming fear a step too far. More like five steps too far—five steps across that board.

  I huddled back near the wall of the ruin. The wind gusted, numbing my skin. I could yell for help, but who would hear? I was a quarter-mile from the visitors center and even farther from the campground, and people wouldn’t be hanging around outside on a night like this. I might even call back Sean and his buddies. I guessed they were headed out of the park already, but my guesses so far had not been too accurate.

  I could wait a while to make sure they were gone and see if the rain stopped. But the rain could just as easily get worse, and the temperature would keep dropping. And the more time I took to notify the police, the harder it would be for them to track down the criminals.

  I figured I had two choices. Plan to spend the night or get out of there on my own.

  Clouds scudded across the sky, and a little moonlight slipped through. I looked at the gap between the boulder and the rim and immediately discarded any idea of jumping. In daylight, in running shoes, with enough room for a running start, I might make it. But right now any attempt would lead to disaster.

  I peered into the crevasse, trying to judge how deep it was and how rough the sides were. I’d seen it earlier, of course, but I had only been admiring the dramatic impact, not studying it with an eye to rock climbing.

  I thought the crevasse was about fifteen feet deep. At least that was better than the other side of the boulder, where if I slipped, I’d keep falling down the whole slope into the canyon. And the crevasse narrowed at the bottom, so I might be able to reach across and brace myself on the other wall once I got partway down.

  I remembered the way the Ancestral Pueblo People had often cut notches into the rock to use like ladders. They had never looked like great ladders to me, especially after seven hundred years of erosion, but they might help. That is, if the Ancient Ones had done that here instead of just using wooden ladders, and if I could find the notches.

  I pushed damp hair out of my face and peered into the crevasse. In the dim light, I couldn’t make out anything definite. And the light might disappear altogether if I didn’t hurry. I reached my hand down and felt around for a notch or other foothold. I slid my hand over the rock and finally found a slight scooped-out area. I pressed my hand into the depression. I couldn’t imagine standing with my weight on that, but maybe it was better than nothing.

  I sat on the edge of the boulder and felt the cold rock gritty against the backs of my calves. Maybe bare feet would give me a slightly better grip than floppy sandals. I’d want my sandals once I got down, though, so I stuck them in the front of my dress. Ick. Nothing like cold, damp, mud in your cleavage.

  I rolled onto my stomach and forearms, dangling my legs. My feet must be already hanging below the notch I’d felt, but hopefully it indicated a line of notches all the way down. I slid my bare feet over the damp, slippery rock.

  My heart thudded and my arms strained to hold me. The dark maw of the crevasse seemed determined to suck me down. What was I doing? Was I crazy?

  Finally I felt something, a rough bump on the rock. I squeezed the front of my right foot onto it and tried to grip with my toes.

  I eased myself down lower, so I was chin level with the top of the boulder, still gripping with my hands and putting weight on my forearms. I searched with my other foot.

  Nothing. I should pull myself back up.

  I wasn’t sure I could.

  My left arm started to slide toward the edge of the boulder. I whimpered and gripped harder, trying to hold on even with my chin.

  My left foot wasn’t finding a single hold. Finally, in desperation, I jammed it onto the same bump where I had my right foot. That supported my weight just enough so I stopped sliding.

  I tried to take a deep breath, but the boulder pressed into my chest and chin. I doubted I could get back up again without decent footholds. I had to keep going down. If the crevasse was fifteen feet deep, and I was five feet tall, I only had... a ten-foot drop. What was I thinking? I should’ve stayed on the boulder and screamed. Waited for morning if I had to. Forget independence, playing the damsel in distress was starting to sound good.

  Too late now. Since my left foot hadn’t found a hold, maybe I could leave it on the bump and search more to the right with my right foot. I slowly lowered my right foot, feeling with my toes. I found another notch, but with such a shallow slope that I didn’t see how it could take my full body weight.

  I could do this. I could.

  My chin slipped off the edge of the boulder. I tried to dig in my fingertips, but with just a little dirt over solid rock, I couldn’t get a grip. My arms started to slide. I would have to try the foothold because I was running out of options.

  I jammed my foot in so hard my toes hurt. My other foot was starting to cramp from gripping its little shelf. I let my forearms slide off the top of the boulder and turned my hands to grip the edge of the rock with them.

  I’d never felt heavier, never felt gravity so strongly, but for the moment I held on. I moved my left foot down and tried to feel around.

  My hands slid toward the edge of the boulder.

  I fumbled frantically with my left foot. And then I felt myself falling.

  As I peeled away from the cliff, I kicked my left foot back. It hit the wall on the opposite side of the crevasse with a thud that shot pain through my heel and shook my whole body. I pressed my foot hard against that wall and pushed my right foot and hands against the wall in front of me. The good news was, I wasn’t dead yet. And I was closer to the ground, though not close enough to jump safely. I was in a deep lunge, my hands trying to cling to smooth, slick rock.

  My hips started to ache with the tension. Another minute and my muscles would cramp. I was afraid to move, but I had to.

  I wriggled my left foot down a little. Braced my hands against the boulder. Pushed back, holding my weight between my hands and the foot behind me.

  Lowered my right foot. Found another foothold.

  My right quad started to cramp. I needed to shift out of this lunge, and quickly.

  I could do this. It didn’t have to look pretty. I just had to survive.

  I turned my body slightly and swung my left hand over to the wall behind me. My fingers brushed something feathery. I stretched and gripped a bushy plant, hoping its roots were tough and deep.

  I wobbled, shook, trembled. But half a minute later I was still upright, my body stretched across the crevasse like an X.

  I felt better with four solid points of contact. I edged one hand down, then the other. Then my right foot, looking for another notch. I found one, and it wasn’t bad with my weight pressed into the wall instead of dragging me down.

  Wisps of hair dangled in my eyes and dripped water down my cheeks. My hands stung, and my feet throbbed even though they were going numb. My hip muscles screamed with pain. My dress, stretched tight across my thighs, would never be the same. And I was getting a wedgie.

  I had to ignore it all. I worked my way down the crevasse, sometimes sliding and catching myself a few inches down. Finally my feet hit bottom. My body didn’t seem to understand that I’d reached solid ground. I kept going down until I slumped into a heap among some prickly weeds.

  I had made it. I was drenched, muddy, and sore, but I’d gotten off the boulder.

  Unfortunately, that was just the beginning. Now I had to get help and stop Sean.

  Chapter 21

  I huddled on the ground, dragging in deep breaths. I didn’t want to move. Wasn’t sure I could.

  I started shivering. I had to get out of there. I could move, because I had no choice. I would do what had to be done.

  I pulled my sandals from my dress and slipped them onto my feet. They weren’t much protection, but better than nothing. At least the snakes would all be hiding from this weather. Loose rocks were a bigger threat.

  I stood and
got my bearings. I’d pretty much already exceeded the extent of my rock-climbing abilities, so I wasn’t going to try climbing up the cliff to the rim at that point. But the storehouses, where I’d done my work, weren’t far away. I could take the path up from there.

  As I stumbled over rocks and pushed past bushes that scratched my legs, I remembered seeing Sean that first time. He must have been down at the storehouses picking up something from his drop point. And then he had flirted with me to distract me. His interest in my work had been a way of finding out where I would be working and where it was still safe to meet his partners or stash his goods. What a fool I’d been, worrying about completely the wrong things. Well, I’d pay him back. I might be a fool but... but.... I couldn’t think of a good “but.”

  I might be a fool, but so was he! I’d made a mistake. I could learn from it and move on. We’d see who laughed last.

  I slithered along the slope, stubbing my toes on rocks. A yucca caught my skirt and ripped it, leaving a stinging scratch across my thigh.

  The slope got even steeper. I had to work my way down farther. I slid, grabbing onto bushes and trying to brace my feet against rocks when I could find them. Finally I slid onto a ledge just wide enough so I could stand up. I kept one hand on the slope and peered into the night. The darkness flattened the scene, making it hard to judge distances. Shadows could have been dark objects or empty space.

  Finally the scene clicked into place, despite the darkness. I’d come farther than I had realized. I was already on the narrow path that led past the storehouses. I stumbled along it. My skin felt numb and my muscles sluggish, like my brain was giving commands but my body was half asleep and barely listening. The wind rushed past, but at least Danesh had been right about the rain, which stayed at a modest drizzle.

  I turned up the steep slope to the rim, panting from the exertion even though I wasn’t going very fast. I needed to get dry and warm. I made it to the top of the slope and turned down the rim trail. I imagined wrapping up in a blanket—or even better, Danesh’s arms. I used that as motivation. The faster I moved, the sooner I’d get there, and the more likely I’d catch Danesh. He could warm me up, and we could call the police right away. Although I felt like I’d been struggling for hours, it probably hadn’t taken more than ten minutes to get out of the canyon. If the police had a car close enough, they might catch Sean as he left the park boundaries.

  If the visitors center was closed and locked, the situation got more complicated. I’d have to get to my camp and check for the key. If I couldn’t find it, I’d have to drive somewhere where I could get phone reception. Sean would be long gone before I could get help. Of course, I knew where he lived, but unless they found him with the drugs on him, they wouldn’t have much of a case.

  I thought I saw a small light in the distance, half hidden behind the screen of trees. A beacon of hope or just wishful thinking? Finally I turned a corner and got a clear view. A small square of light, surely the visitors center window. Someone was still there! The light, with its promise of warmth and companionship, called me. But what if Danesh was ready to leave? I could still miss him.

  The thought renewed my energy. I ran.

  When I turned into the parking area, I slowed so I could drag air into my lungs. Danesh’s truck was still there. Everything would be all right now.

  My legs trembled with cold and fatigue as I staggered the last few paces to the door. I fumbled for the door handle with numb fingers. My trials were almost over. I pushed. The door didn’t budge. I stared at it, baffled and insulted. Then I realized the obvious—the visitors center wasn’t open, so Danesh had locked the door behind him.

  I started pounding and didn’t stop until the door opened. Then I stumbled through into Danesh’s arms. Over his shoulder I could see Jerry staring at me from the doorway to the back room. Jerry. I’d forgotten about him. But he—

  “Good Lord!” Danesh held me out at arm’s length. “What happened to you?”

  That wasn’t quite the reaction I’d been imagining. But I followed his gaze and glanced down at myself. My dress and skin were streaked with mud. I had already managed to transfer some to Danesh’s shirt.

  I could feel the heat of his hands on my arms, and for some reason that started me shivering. I spoke through chattering teeth. “I went—the rim—saw lights. Men—in ruins. Drug deal. Got to call—police.”

  Danesh put his arm around me and led me toward the back room. “We’ve got to get you warm. Jerry, you’d better call the police and let them know there’s a problem out here. We’ll sort out the details in a minute.”

  He nodded, “Di-did they see you?”

  I shook my head but was too tired and cold to explain further. Jerry reached for the phone. I was grateful they didn’t demand the whole story first. We could explain once the police were on the way.

  Danesh pushed me into the bathroom. “Try to get some of that mud off. I’ll find dry clothes.”

  I huddled over the sink, trying to wash mud from my arms in the trickle of lukewarm water. I glanced in the mirror and saw someone I hardly recognized. My damp hair tangled around my face, mud streaked my cheeks, and my eyes looked huge. I stared for a moment and then started laughing.

  Danesh came in behind me. “What?”

  “Look at me,” I gasped. “Date night! You can’t take me anywhere.”

  “You’re hysterical.”

  I nodded but pressed my lips together to hold in my giggles. In the movies they always slapped people who got hysterical. I didn’t want to be slapped.

  Danesh studied me, frowning, then stepped forward and pulled me close.

  My giggles evaporated. A minute later, my shivers eased, too.

  “Better now?” he whispered.

  I nuzzled his neck. “Mmm. You’ll get all wet and muddy.”

  “I’ll survive.” I ran my tongue along his collarbone and then nipped his neck.

  His arms tightened, and he drew in a quick breath. “I’m not sure this is the time or place for that, darlin’, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

  He backed up and handed me a bundle of clothing. “The running shorts are mine, and they’re clean. The T-shirt is from the sales counter. The jacket is Jerry’s. Get into them and then we’ll wrap you in a blanket.” He backed out of the bathroom.

  I quickly peeled off my clothes and rubbed my body down with the hand towel. I was far from clean, but getting warm was more important. The running shorts had a built-in liner, so I took off my panties, which were damp and clinging. My bra was gritty with mud from my sandals, so I discarded that as well. My cold nipples showed through the T-shirt like little buttons, but I zipped up Jerry’s jacket to hide that sight. The jacket hung nearly to my knees, and I had to push up the sleeves to free my hands.

  I stepped out of the bathroom barefoot. Danesh wrapped a blanket around me, hustled me to the sofa, and brought me a cup of hot coffee. I closed my hands around the warm mug and sipped.

  Danesh sat beside me. “Give me your feet.” He slid athletic socks on for me and then tucked the blanket around my feet. “Think you can explain now?”

  I nodded but took another sip of coffee and kept my face close to the mug, feeling the heat. The adrenaline had worn off, and I just wanted to curl up and sleep. But it wasn’t over yet.

  I settled back against the sofa with a sigh. Where to start? “You know the guy I was supposed to have a date with tonight?”

  Danesh nodded, frowning.

  “Turns out he was just trying to get me out of the way. I found him in Falling House, giving a briefcase full of money to two other guys.”

  He stared, as if trying to process the information or maybe trying to decide if I was hallucinating. “What did you do?”

  “I hid and they went past. But they took the board they’d used as a bridge, so I had to climb down into the canyon and back out again.”

  “You climbed down into the canyon. In a dress—” He blew out a breath. “You’re sure they didn’t see y
ou?” He spoke calmly enough, but the fierce expression on his face reminded me again of an ancient warrior.

  I shrugged. “If they had, I imagine they would have done something about it already.”

  Danesh jumped up, paced across the room, and came back. He squatted in front of me, his hands on my knees. “You could have been hurt. Or—worse.”

  I yawned, too tired to raise a hand to cover my mouth. “I’m all right.”

  He rubbed my legs through the blanket. “Warm enough now?”

  I nodded, gazing into his eyes, hardly aware of the question. He might be bossy sometimes, but he had a nurturing streak a mile wide. I liked that. I liked his brown eyes, too, and the high cheekbones and the way he could look fierce but you could see the tenderness underneath, once you knew where to look.

  Movement caught my attention, and I glanced toward the doorway to see Jerry. Danesh looked back at him too. “Are they on their way?”

  Jerry nodded.

  Danesh rose and pushed a hand through his hair. “All right. We should call back and explain. Can you describe the vehicle?”

  “Dark green SUV. But I think there’s a second one I didn’t see. I don’t think they came together.”

  “Okay, I’ll call. They’ll want a statement, so you might have to go to town. I could run over to your campsite and get you some more clothes and some shoes.”

  “It’s—” I yawned. “All right.” Maybe I should have worried about dealing with the police with bare legs and borrowed clothes, but so long as I could stay curled up in the blanket, I didn’t much care. I finished the hot coffee and felt the warmth seeping from my stomach to my limbs. I forced myself to lean toward the table with the mug, instead of letting it fall from my hands.

  As I put the cup down I noticed Danesh and Jerry both standing still, looking toward the doorway. Then I heard the growl and crunch of a car pulling in.

  “That was fast,” I said.

  Danesh gave a noncommittal grunt. “Very fast. Stay here.” He went to the front room, pulling the door closed behind him.