The Howling Cliffs

by Mary Deal

  At the cliff edge, Ka'imi began making gagging noises in her throat but didn't howl. She barely made it to the clearing and then lay on the ground in the shade of a boulder and some shrubs. Sara poured more water into the small plastic bowl and decided to let her rest a while. Ka'imi lapped it up quickly as if her throat might be parched. She seemed okay and laid down again. After a few minutes, she went to sleep. The trek must have been too much for her this time. Sara dropped her backpack and would let Ka'imi rest while she took a look around.

  Sara walked to the cliff edge at the point where the dogs wailed. The air was fresh. The strength of the scorching afternoon sun had weakened and the breezes cooled with the approach of evening. A few clouds hung in the distance. It was an idyllic time of day. The forest trees stood like sentries, perpetually guarding a possible secret among the cliffs. How could such natural magnificence be hiding secrets?

  A memory of the Vietnam jungle and its many tragic secrets flickered through her mind, accompanied by a moment of deep sadness. Feeling as deeply about the MIAs as Huxley and the veterans, she welcomed the hope that one day all the MIAs would be found and identified, and all cold case missing persons indentified too.

  A twig crackled behind her. Ka'imi must have risen. Before she could turn around, forceful hands thrust against her back and made her head snap backwards and her neck joints crackle. A scream escaped but it sounded as though someone else had produced the sound. She was sent sailing through the air out over the cliff edge and came down face first in a patch of low shrubbery and rocks. She felt the stinging scrapes and cuts to her arms and legs. She groped at clumps of weeds to keep from sliding farther downhill.

  She slid anyway as plants tore loose. Top soil gave way, adding to her momentum. She felt the stings of heli-heli as she frantically grabbed at anything to hold onto. Then a rock outcropping she had slid onto disappeared from beneath her and she dropped further over the side. It wasn't a long drop, but added enough momentum that when she landed and crumpled, her head smacked against a boulder, and that was the last thing she knew.

  By the time she regained consciousness, the sun had dropped low behind the distant Albesia trees at the far end of the canyon. She struggled to sit up and found herself surrounded by shadows of the cliffs and tall canyon trees.

  Darkness was setting in fast and would make it difficult if not impossible to find a way back up the jagged hillside to the trail. The wind had strengthened. Rain had fallen. She was soaked through and through which confirmed the fact she had been unconscious.

  Had she only been asleep, the rain would have awakened her. Her chin stung and twitched. A headache beat out an agonizing rhythm. She remembered that her head had whacked that rock. She worried about possibly reactivating her concussion. She strained to see her watch dial and had difficulty focusing. She could only make out that it was well past six o'clock. Sara gasped. Had she really been unconscious for nearly two hours?

  She felt around her waistband for her cell phone but it was gone. She had to get help before it became too dark for anyone to find her.

  “Ka'imi!” Sara yelled upward toward the trail. What she couldn't see was how far she had fallen. Through blurred sight, the sun's rays began to disappear and shadows thickened. “Ka'imi!” Sara's head hurt from screaming, the reverberation of her own sound was unnerving.

  Ka'imi did not respond. Could she have understood and run for help. She had acted exhausted when reaching the plateau. Ka'imi had made it as far as the stream in the Arboretum with high energy, but fell back several times during the hike up the incline.

  “Ka'imi!” She called again in a commanding voice. Sara held her head to stop the pain her voice caused. “Come here, girl!” She heard only the sound of the wind rustling through the trees.

  Then she remembered to whistle, wiped her fingers on her soaked through tee shirt, put them into her mouth and finally produced a long and shrill sound like Birdie taught her to do to get Ka'imi's attention.

  Ka'imi gave no response. She whistled again and received no response. Then Sara remembered something else Birdie had said. She yelled again. “Ka'imi, go Birdie!” She waited momentarily but heard nothing. Usually when Ka'imi heard her name called, she responded with some sort of throaty sound. Sara heard nothing. “Ka'imi! Go Birdie!” She screamed desperately and as loud as her failing energy allowed as panic began to well up.

  With no response from Ka'imi and hearing no voices above on the trail, she realized her perilous predicament. Most likely, her assailant left the area quickly. Several more times, she screamed for help and got no response. It was too late in the day for people to be on the trail. She was totally alone.

  Chapter 33

  The rock on which she crouched was relatively flat but arched slightly in the middle and slippery with moss and lichens. Above that, a wide flat boulder protruded out of the cliffside creating something of an overhang above her perch. She slid to the side of the area and reached for a shrub and clung to its stalk. It held. She tried to get a foothold in the loose earth and finally found a rock to support her foot. She reached higher for another shrub. As she gently tested to see if the rock would hold her weight for climbing, one shrub pulled loose and sent a surge of adrenalin through her as she froze and pressed flat against the muddy hillside to assure she wouldn't slip farther.

  She looked around the rain soaked area for any way up or down. So much had broken loose and slid downhill as she fell. In the thickening darkness, she simply found nothing more to grab hold to use for leverage.

  She tried again and again to jam her sneakers into the loose earth to gain a foothold in any packed soil that may lay beneath the surface. The topsoil would not support her weight and she could easily tumble down into the valley, a sure death sentence. Sighing heavily, she eased back to her safe place on solid rock and crept on her knees to look over the other side of the ledge. What she saw made her heart jump. From there, it was a steep drop down into the valley. If she tried to climb up there and the ground gave way, the only place she might land would be on the valley floor what looked to be a thousand feet below.

  Rain began pelting. The sky darkened with a huge downpour. The only saving grace was that the summer weather was warm, yet, the combination of trade winds and rain made the air chilly.

  Sara retracted her arms inside the sopping tee shirt. She pulled the shirt over her head and covered her head with her arms and hands as the rain beat out a relentless rhythm. She would have to wait it out. She didn't dare move. Where to? She had no idea if she moved a little to the right she might find boulders to huddle beside and block the rain. Or to the left? Or would she fall over another cliff?

  The low-slung rain clouds made it too dark to see far enough but neither had her sight improved. Knowing moving about could spell disaster, she sat huddled in a fetal position wrapped inside her shirt, fully aware of the dangers of being exposed to the elements. Then a brief wave of warmth washed over her as she remembered something she said when trapped in her over-turned car.

  “I won't die here either!” She spoke the words adamantly through chattering teeth and curled into an even tighter knot inside the shirt.

  Preoccupied with keeping herself warm, Sara mulled over events that had happened to her recently. Specifically, being run off the road and then pushed over a cliff had to be caused by the same person or persons. The odds of each being separate incidences in such a small window of time and to the same person would be staggering. After a few weeks on the island, she began to see that people accepted her, knowing she was a lover of peace. Her work could bring closure for desperate families. The only reason someone would want her dead would be to hide their evil deed.

  She gritted her teeth to steel her nerves, determined to be rescued or be able to climb out when daylight appeared. She remembered she could have bled to death as she hung upside-down in her mangled car. She remembered the feel of the person's forceful hands on her back that sent her flying over the cliffside like a wounded bird. She wo
uld find that person, learn his or her depraved reasoning, and see them prosecuted. “I'll get through this.” Like all her promises, neither would she break one made to herself. “I'm coming to get you!”

  Lightning flashed and lit up the area where she huddled. She sat in a bad position, open to the sky above her upright body. She wasn't about to offer herself up to the storm like a lightning rod. Quickly, she lay flat on her stomach on the cold hard surface, keeping the shirt over her head. Pelting rain assaulted her bare back, legs and arms.

  Changing her mind, instead of laying prone, she curled into a fetal position on her side, trying to contain as much body warmth as possible. She pulled the shirt down over her knees and stretched it around her buttocks. Cocooned inside the shirt, she made an effort to blow warm breaths against body parts.

  Sara prayed for a break in the rain. The break came none too soon as clouds drifted. Weak moonlight beamed down. She was on a small ledge, guessing it to be no bigger than a dozen square feet. That's all she saw as clouds closed in again. On hands and knees, she felt around while hoping for another break. The dim light came and had she moved forward a few inches farther, she would have slipped on the mossy wet slope at the side of the ledge and fallen into the deep ravine. Apprehension not unlike what she felt when standing on the cliff overlooking the rushing river gorge in Vietnam crept in. The scenery in front of her, though beautiful in the moonlight, masked the danger below.

  Looking down into the valley, the elevation was dizzying. Grateful for the moonlight and determined to remain safe, she began to slowly scoot backward on her buttocks, feeling around with her hands. When she was a safe distance from the edge, she turned to face the overhang. She ran her hands over the ground, searching for her cell phone. Each time moonlight lit the area she carefully crawled around.

  It finally sank in that she would spend the night in her awful predicament. She sat again, huddled inside the tee shirt. She began to notice pain from the many gashes and gouges she sustained. Her blurred vision hinted that she may have worsened her concussion. Her chin throbbed. To clean her hand, if that were possible, she wiped it again on her wet tee shirt and then gingerly cradled her chin with the palm of the hand and realized her chin was badly cut. She waited for the next dash of moonlight, examined the front of her tee shirt and found it stained. Not red dirt. It was blood! Her chin had bled badly. She put her palm against her chin again and only then realized how swollen it was.

  A feeling of nausea swept over her as she appraised her condition. She immediately lay prone, trying to dispel the dizziness. She placed a hand on her stomach trying to calm the nausea. If she had another concussion, the force of vomiting would be the worst thing that could happen. The force of doing so could make her brain bleed again and that might be the end of her.

  The wind against her wet clothing and body kept her in a continual state of shivering. Finally, she sat up and began to peel off her sopping clothing till she was stark naked, including her sneakers and socks. The wind blowing against her wet clothing was sapping her body heat and strength. She stood, naked as a tropical bird on a windward cliff, and forcefully wrung every last drop of water possible from the clothing.

  Another spell of faint brightening of moonlight came as the clouds drifted across the sky. She could barely make out the cliff edge and again was too perilously close. She scooted her shoes as she took a couple of steps backwards and simply stood and stared. The sky was a magnificent mural with splotches of the familiar vog offering artistic smearings of pink, coral and red.

  From the distance came the sound of a rushing waterfall. She stood with her hands full of wet clothes, stark naked, but now warmer during a break in the rain. Suddenly, she lifted her arms in the air. Her bra dangled from an elbow and flapped loose.

  “I'm alive!” She shook her clothes in defiance. “I'm alive!”

  She began to shiver again. Sorting through her wrung out clothes and careful not to drop any into the wet dirt at her feet, she stepped into her panties and put the cold clammy feeling out of her mind. Getting her bra back on was a futile effort. She opted to stuffing it into the pocket of her shorts. The damp clothing added to her chill. She needed to find a spot sheltered from the wind and was thankful to have accomplished redressing. Her strength was quickly ebbing. The sound of the waterfall made her thirsty.

  What was important was to understand why someone would push her over the cliff. Someone didn't want her in the area, and now meant to stop her from ever leaving the place and no one would know. “But I'm alive. And they will know.”

  Facing being there all night, she needed to find the best location for shelter out of the wind, if that were possible. She wondered what Birdie was doing at that moment. Maybe Ka'imi had made it home and Birdie thought she had simply left Ka'imi in the yard and gone home. Birdie would have no way of knowing she was not home. Yet, if Ka'imi didn't make it home, Birdie would be out looking.

  “Call the police, Birdie!” Sara screamed it loud because she could. She needed to be heard by anyone. “Someone help! Call the police!” Rustling sounds came from down in the valley, with the snorts of animals. “Oh no. Wild pigs.”

  Birdie once said these animals were descendents of pigs owned by the ancient Hawaiians and had gone wild, becoming as fierce as any wild boar. She wondered if any might reach her location. Not that she wanted a visit from hungry animals that could tear her to shreds. She needed assurance that she would be safe if she ended up spending the night on the ledge.

  No hikers would be on the trail above at that late hour who might hear her screams. She needed to conserve her energy. Each time she heard the snorts, sometimes closer, sometimes farther, she held her breath till assured they were merely foraging. Maybe they, too, looked for a place to bed down for the night. Hopefully, there was no way for them to reach the ledge from either side. No way existed to know how high pigs accustomed to the wild might be able to climb. She needed to stay alert.

  To her surprise, music came from somewhere in the distance. Sara listened intently, trying to determine if people were coming up the trail. She gasped, recognizing the sound. “My cell phone!” It had fallen far below. Someone was calling. It had to be Birdie trying to find where she was. The music stopped. The silence was deafening, disheartening. Then a new tone came from the same direction alerting her that someone had left a voice message. “A-a-r-rgh!” Sara screamed into the night.

  Another light sprinkle passed over, but a wide break in the clouds forecast the rain might cease. Moonlight washed over the area. Though her sight remained blurred, she strained to get a better understanding of her situation. She faced a large flat boulder that stuck out from the hill side like a saucer. It was most likely the one that broke her fall. To her relief, beneath it was an area for shelter.

  “Yes!” Anticipation raced through her nervous system and warmed her. She crept close on hands and knees. With clouds diminishing, each break in the drifts provided dim moonlight that allowed her to move around. Once safely under the overhang, she sought to find the most sheltered spot available. Back in the shaded recesses, moonlight reflected off something round or dome-like. She stopped where she was as goose bumps traipsed over her like a silent warning. She crept closer, trying to focus. No way would she feel safe if something else had crawled in there to spend the night.

  Nothing moved. It had to be just another rock. She crept closer and dared touch the shape. It didn't move. She rubbed fingertips tenuously over the surface, but suddenly withdrew her hand.

  The feel of it made her heart beat wildly. Fur? Hair? She dared touch the thing again. She felt around a bit more. It could be the long fur of an animal and it was dead because it didn't respond. “Oh, great. All I need are dead animal germs on my hands.” She leaned closer and saw what looked be a few shards of bones. No germs there. This thing had been dead for a long time.

  Sara positioned herself to allow the little moonlight available to better illuminate inside the crevasse. She gingerly ran her fingerti
ps over the shape again, caught a finger hold in a hole and rolled the piece over. One part fell away and startled her but she leaned in close to examine the curious mass anyway. What faced her were two eye holes and a row of upper teeth of a human skull.

  Chapter 34

  Sara drew back quickly, still on hands and knees. The darkening night and her blurred vision didn't allow for examining the bones in detail. She had to find shelter to last through the night or risk ending up in the same predicament as that skeleton. She crept under the overhang to the side, away from where the bones lay.

  That many bones in one spot meant the wild pigs and other foragers could not reach the ledge, otherwise the bones would be scattered. Sara felt around and found a dry spot and lay down and curled into a knot, preparing for a long night of chilling breezes and wet clothing. Another unnerving thought crept in. “I hope the centipedes haven't found this place.” At least she had shelter from the rain and most of the wind. The police needed to know what lay down here. She set her mind to getting back to safety as soon as daylight broke.

  She may have dozed but awakened to distant noises approaching. A dog barked. Again and again, the voices called her name. She crawled out from under the overhang but clutched the rock to steady herself and to remind not to move from it. How easy it would be in her excitement to inadvertently step into an area that gave way underfoot that sent her to her death at the moment of deliverance. Flashlight beams were being cast in all directions through the trees, down the cliffside and into the canyon.

  “Sara!” It was Birdie's sweet old voice. “Sara, where are you?”

  Other voices called her name.

  Sara cupped a hand at the side of her mouth and yelled upward toward the trail. “Here! I'm here!”