Chapter 52 #2
“We fly to Mammoth Yosemite Airport then rent an SUV. Then we go on the trail with my equipment and yours.” I have several things that will be needed to search for her, including Personal Locator Beacon and GPS Satellite that can transmit our signal to rescuers and a bright light that goes on my forehead.
I also have a 1,000 Lumen lamp that’ll illuminate miles of forest, and a whistle.
Roman slides his headset on as we board—me riding shotgun, Lilith taking the back.
I feel Lilith's hand on my shoulder, surprisingly steady. "She's out there. I know it." When I glance back, she's already laid out her tarot deck across the seat. Normally I'd roll my eyes, but right now, I'll take whatever hope I can get.
"The Sun card," she says, her face brightening. "Thank God. She'll make it through this." Her finger traces another card, upside down. "Though this Reversed Star means the path won't be easy."
I nod, not hearing her. I mean, she’s giving me comforting words, but what does she really know?
The helicopter cuts through the air towards Mammoth Lakes, the journey taking less than an hour. Roman keeps his headset on, maintaining contact with the other search teams scanning the wilderness for any sign of Tally. When I catch his eye, he just shakes his head grimly. "Nothing yet."
After touching down at Mammoth Yosemite Airport, we waste no time securing an SUV and speeding toward the Convict Canyon trailhead, where the search continues on foot.
My heart hammers against my ribs as we trudge along the trail.
The beam from my high-powered lamp sweeps across the path and into the darkness beyond, revealing only glimpses of the wilderness.
Dammit, this trail stretches for ten miles round trip and takes six hours to complete.
Tally could be anywhere out here. I find myself oddly reassured that Lilith came with us.
She's no psychic, but her intuition runs deep—she might sense Tally's presence in ways Roman or I never could.
I don't understand the concept of a psychic connection, but I'm praying Lillith can somehow tune into Tally's frequency tonight.
Roman ditched his tuxedo at the airport for more practical gear—heavy coat, hat, the works.
Lilith changed in the helicopter and now sports jeans and hiking boots with her own winter layers.
I'm bundled up too, but it's still brutal out here.
The cold bites through everything. My mind keeps circling back to Tally.
She was only planning a day hike—would she have brought proper winter gear?
Who packs a heavy coat for a quick afternoon trek?
The image of her shivering somewhere in these mountains makes my stomach knot.
Hypothermia sets in fast. And while I know wild animal attacks are rare, they happen.
But it's the cold and dehydration that terrify me most. I force the thoughts away, but they keep creeping back.
She has to be alive. There's no other possibility I can accept. When I find her—and I will find her—I'm never letting go again. Even if she doesn't want the same things I do. Even if she pushes me away. I'll wait as long as it takes for her to realize what we could have together.
God, I was such an idiot bringing Willow into this mess. I shouldn't be thinking about her right now, but I can't ignore that I've hurt someone innocent who didn't deserve it.
Roman was right all along. "Follow your heart, not your head," he always said. Should’ve followed his advice.
If I had, Tally would be safe with me now.
Not married, maybe, but protected. She'd hate that word—"protected.
" She'd roll those fierce eyes and tell me exactly where I could shove my protection.
But she could be as angry as she wanted, call me every name in her colorful vocabulary, as long as she was here. As long as she was mine.
Roman is right behind me.
Goddammit. The forest stretches for miles in every direction.
We're talking worse than a needle in a haystack—more like one particular raindrop in a monsoon.
But we can't stop. Every minute matters now.
I keep picturing her huddled against a tree trunk, shivering in that thin jacket she always wears.
Did she have the foresight to stuff a blanket in her pack?
The temperature's dropping fast. No. Can't go there.
Can't imagine her lips turning blue, her body growing still. She's alive. She has to be.
Lilith's hand lands on my shoulder, warm and steady. "Cameron," she says, her voice soft. "The search team has equipment, but you have something better."
"Like what?"
"A connection to Tally that runs deeper than logic. I've seen how you two are together. Close your eyes. Picture her. Send your thoughts to her. She might just answer back."
A spiritual bond? Maybe that explains the pull I've felt since day one. I don't buy into that mystical stuff, but with Tally missing and the sun setting—I'll try anything Lilith suggests.
I lower myself to the ground, crossing my legs and shutting my eyes. The forest goes quiet around me as I focus on Tally's face—those green-blue eyes, that crooked smile with the tiny scar at the corner.
Where are you? The question pulses through me with each heartbeat. Where are you? Nothing comes back. After five minutes of silence, I slam my palm against the dirt.
"This is bullshit, Lilith. We're wasting time. We need to keep searching, use the flashlights?—"
"Cameron." Her voice is soft but firm. "Professional teams have combed these woods for two days straight. If conventional methods worked, she'd be home by now."
Roman's hand lands heavy on my shoulder. "My wife sees things differently than most people. If she thinks you can reach Tally somehow, you should trust that."
"She's not actually psychic," I argue.
Lilith tucks her hair behind her ear. "I don't see the future, no.
But I've spent my life listening to what others ignore—the patterns, the connections.
And everything in me says you're her beacon home.
Not by shouting into ravines, but by becoming still enough that she can find you.
Out here, you're searching for one pebble on miles of shoreline.
But if you center yourself, you become the lighthouse. "
I shake my head. "How do I do this?"
"You need to completely relax. Take deep breaths through your diaphragm and visualize a word. Say it over and over and over in your head. It can be any word. If your mind wanders, then come back to that chosen word."
Ah. Transcendental Meditation. I recognize this.
Before heading to my first Doctors Without Borders assignment, a group of us took a class on TM.
The stress in those crisis zones hits like a freight train, and drinking wasn't an option—one beer too many could mean a shaky hand when someone's life depended on steady fingers.
We needed something portable, something that worked anywhere, even in a tent with gunfire in the distance. TM fit the bill.
I've seen it work. Hell, I've felt it work, those nights in Sicily when the faces of the day's patients wouldn't leave me alone.
I lower myself onto a flat rock beside the trail.
The forest breathes around me—owl calls punctuate the darkness, tree branches sway in the wind, crickets chirp a steady rhythm.
Something small scurries through dead leaves nearby.
Water tumbles over stones in the creek just beyond the next ridge.
I close my eyes and let one word fill the space between my thoughts: love.
Whenever my mind tries to wander toward tomorrow's problems or yesterday's mistakes, I gently pull it back.
Love. Love. Love. With each deep belly breath, tension melts from my shoulders, my jaw, my hands.
A warm current of calm washes through me, leaving nothing but stillness in its wake.
“Okay,” Lilith says, somewhere outside my mind. “Now, try to communicate with her. She’ll tell you where she is.”
I open my eyes and point to the map. "She's in the ravine. See the four-mile marker? We need to follow it down to where it meets the basin."
Roman nods. "Got it." He pulls out his satellite radio, speaks into it for a minute, then slams it down with a curse. "They're calling off the search until morning. Budget constraints, apparently."
I blow out a breath. "Okay. Looks like I'm hiking it.
" My hiking boots have only ever met well-maintained trails, not the jagged descent of a ravine.
But tonight, that doesn't matter. She's down there, alone.
I can't bring her back up without proper equipment and the rescue team, but I can reach her.
I can share my water, wrap my arms around her, whisper that everything will be okay.
That I'm here. My gut screams that she needs this tonight—that she's slipping away.
Roman doesn’t try to talk me out of it. It’s dangerous as hell, trying to traverse a steep ravine in the dark.
I have this powerful lumen light which will illuminate the way, which will be helpful, but still…
hiking down a ravine is tricky in the best of circumstances.
But Roman knows I have to do this. It’s literally a matter of life or death for her.
Roman keeps pace beside me on the trail, his voice low and steady.
"When we hit the four-mile marker, you'll need to navigate that ravine carefully.
Keep your stance wide—shoulder-width at least." He demonstrates with his hands.
"The steeper it gets, switch to side-stepping.
Turn your body like this." He pivots sideways.
"Small, deliberate steps. Never rush it.
" His expression turns serious. "One rescue is enough for today.
We don't need you tumbling down after her.
" Then that familiar grin breaks through.
"The mountain rescue team doesn't offer two-for-one specials, bro. "