Dusk crept up the canyon as he slowed his pace, searching for a sign in the gathering darkness below. He cursed his inability to communicate with the rest of humanity and considered driving directly to town to seek help, but thoughts of a person trapped in the twisted wreckage, prompted him to strain his eyes in the gathering darkness and search the abyss below.

Darkness moved in quickly now, and he knew he'd soon need help and more light than a simple flashlight to locate a wreck, if in fact a vehicle had plunged to the valley floor, a hundred or more feet below. He rubbed his eyes against the dimness and caught sight of a skid mark. The track was long and ran straight to the edge of the roadway, and then into nothingness. Below, he could see a displaced boulder and disturbed earth before the slope dropped off at an impossible angle into utter blackness. Before his mind had a chance to act, two yellow beams of a headlight broke around the curve of the roadway a half-mile below him and began a slow climb to where he stood.

Dean waved his arms to stop the car, an unnecessary gesture as his Jeep completely blocked the narrow road. The vehicle stopped, its high beams blinding him. As the driver stepped from the car, Dean called out. "Someone's gone over the side!" Lydia Larkin moved into the glow and stood silhouetted before him. He covered his surprise. "Can you call for help?" She didn't answer and he repeated his question.

"I tried to get reception up here." There was a slight quake to her voice. "Where's Fitzgerald?"

"How should I know?" He turned and leaned over the edge, cupping his hands. "Hello! Anyone down there? We're here to help." He listened, but heard only the echo of his call. He turned to Larkin. "Do you have any rope?"

She stepped far enough from the light that he could read the look of panic on her face. "We can't go down there! I'll go back for help-no, you go back!"

"Look, there may be someone alive and hurt! We can't take the time. We have to at least try." She put her hand to her face, undecided. "Rope," he repeated. She turned to the rear of her sheriff's vehicle. He elbowed her away and grabbed a large coil of mountain-climbing rope and a flashlight larger than his. "Let's go," he said.

She stopped. "I'm in charge," she said, in a tone that spoke anything but what the words said. She glanced down at the black abyss before them. "We can't-"




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