Over the Edge (7 page)

“I—don't know,” Jack lied. He didn't want to tell his mother what he suspected. The whole thing had started on the airplane ride, when the lines between Ashley and Morgan had been firmly drawn. Now that Jack was close to the magic of this place, a sense of perspective washed over him—no matter what, Ashley was his sister. He needed to remember that. He shouldn't let her feel as if she didn't matter, or that he'd choose Morgan over her, or that her hurt feelings were stupid.

“Well, I'd better go and try to talk to her,” Olivia murmured. “You boys go on to Grandeur Point, if you like, and I'll meet you there.”

“No, that's OK,” Jack answered quickly. “Let
me
go to Ashley.” It would be better to try to fix this himself.

His mother gave him a quizzical look. “You're sure?”

“Yeah. I'm sure.”

“All right. I'll call Morgan to catch up to me now, and we'll meet you at Grandeur Point. Don't take too long, though. Keep an eye out for the condor. The last adolescent is supposed to be flying around this area. They're tracking him by radio signal in case he lands, and then they'll try to bring him in. That would really be something to see.”

Jack shaded his eyes to look up, but he saw only a sky that was postcard-blue and empty, so he continued along the trail.

It didn't take him very long to find Ashley. Dejected, his sister sat on an outlook bench, elbows on knees, her head resting in her hands. Dark hair spilled forward like a veil, cutting her off from the view that captured every other person along the rim. Wordlessly, Jack sat beside her.

After a few minutes he said, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Ashley answered.

“What are you doing?”

“Sitting here. Where's Morgan?”

“Down with Mom at Grandeur Point. I said we'd meet them there.”

“Don't you want to be with him?”

“No.”

Ashley raised her head and pushed back her hair. “How come?”

“I don't know. I guess I wanted to talk with you alone. Without fighting.”

Ashley didn't answer.

“Look,” Jack rushed on, “Some of the things you said about Morgan are true. He's done bad stuff. But I think if you'd give him a chance, you could get past that junk, the way I did.”

“So, I take it you're here to tell me to be nice to Morgan. Figures.”

“No, that's only part of it. I guess…maybe I've been….” Jack stopped, searching for the right word. Why was talking about this so hard?

“Ignoring me?” Ashley finished for him. “Taking his side? Making me feel like dirt?”

“Yeah. Maybe a little.”

“The thing that gets me is that you're blowing me off for Morgan. I mean, he's sick.”

“No he's not! OK, Morgan is weird, but he's not the kind of person who would go after Mom. I just don't want you to blame him—you know—because you're mad at me. Oh, man,” Jack said, dropping his head into his hands. “I hate stuff like this.”

“Like what? Apologizing?”

“Yeah. Like apologizing.”

Ashley looked out over the rim, her eyes avoiding Jack's face. “It's not just you. Part of it is about you, but…I've got a really bad feeling about Morgan, and no one will listen.” Talking fast, she said, “It's like I'm watching my family, one by one, go under his spell. First Dad was sold, then you, and now Mom. It's like I'm all alone. I'm the only one who gets it.”

“Gets what?” Jack would have asked more, but just then a giant shadow passed over them as if a cloud had covered the sun. Craning his neck, he saw a black shape soar past him, floating, wingtip feathers spread out like fingers. A condor! A condor had flown right over his head and into the gaping expanse of the Grand Canyon, sailing flawlessly on unseen currents of air.

“Oh my gosh—look how big it is!” Ashley screamed, instantly on her feet. “Hurry, get your camera! Somebody's got to call The Peregrine Fund people so they can catch him!”

Jack began to fumble with his case, his hands trembling as the mystic shape doubled back toward them. The big bird slowly glided toward the parking lot and disappeared between a row of cars. Jack and Ashley ran to see it, and they weren't the only ones. Every person along the rim seemed just as enchanted, streaming into the parking lot like water. By the time Jack reached the bird, the crowd had swelled to more than 70.

Now that he was up close, Jack could see the comical head of the condor—a yellow-gray bald head emerging from a choker of pin feathers. Bright-eyed and curious, the bird seemed as interested in the crowd as they were in him. Tags with the number 72 had been clipped to both wings, and Jack thought he could see a radio transmitter on the bird's tail. He began shooting film as quickly as he could, remembering what his father had said about quantity.

“Jack, should we get Mom?”

“Yeah. Can you do it, Ashley? I want to keep taking pictures in case The Peregrine Fund people show up to catch this guy. Mom and Morgan are just down the trail a little way.”

“OK. I'll be right back!” Turning on her heel, she began to race down the path.

While the crowd pressed tighter, Jack circled the bird, shooting every second, stopping only to reload. Number 72 waddled toward a group of people who exclaimed in a language Jack didn't understand. It was amazing, seeing the bird this close. It stood over three feet tall, which was wondrous—he looked like a little old man hobbling along on a walk. What a strange, magnificent creature!

“Maybe he'd like to eat some of my peanuts,” a woman said, throwing a handful onto the ground.

“No! Don't feed him!” Jack protested. He ran to where the lady had tossed the nuts and began gathering them up. The asphalt felt rough beneath his fingertips. “The park rangers said that if you feed the condors, they have to stay in captivity. They must never associate people with food. It's really bad for them.”

“Sorry,” she answered, chastened. “Here, let me help.” Her gray hair had been rolled into tight sausage curls that jiggled like a head full of bells as she bent down. Together, Jack and the woman picked up every last nut. Jack was just about to tell her more about the condors when he heard a sound that made his blood run cold. Every peanut he'd gathered spilled out of his hand as he began to run toward the rim, running faster than he ever had before.

The sound he'd heard was a scream. From Ashley.

J
ack couldn't move fast enough as he bolted toward the rim of the canyon. He heard Ashley scream his name, over and over; it sent a cold terror through him that gripped his throat. Feet hammering against the pavement, he barely saw the path in front of him. He pushed his body as hard as he could, hurtling himself toward his sister's screams.

“Jack! Help! Jack!”

They were cries of terror. A sign pointing to Grandeur Point loomed ahead, and then he was there. Ashley stood rigid with fear. Morgan, shaking, peered over the rim. Olivia was nowhere to be seen.

“Jack—she's over the edge!”
Ashley shrieked.

“Who?” Jack knew the answer, but he didn't want to hear it. The next words exploded into his mind like a grenade.

“Mom! Down there!”

Rushing to the rim, Jack wouldn't allow himself to even think what he might see. No one survived a fall down the sheer cliffs of the Grand Canyon. It was too deep, too sharp, too far. The absolute drop left no margin for error. If she'd gone over, she was dead.

“Where?” Jack demanded.
“Tell me exactly where!”

Ashley pushed Morgan aside and dropped to her stomach. She pointed into a crevice of rock. “You can see her. She's not all the way down, but she's not moving!”

“Morgan, call 911!” Jack ordered.

“How?”

“Find someone with a cell phone! Go to a viewing station—I don't care how,
just do it!”

In an instant, Morgan was gone.

Flinging himself down next to Ashley, Jack slid his body as far over the lip of the canyon as he dared. Rocks bit into his skin as he strained forward. He could see a part of his mother's legs protruding from a ledge 70 feet below. Most of her body was hidden by the branches of a stunted juniper tree, but Jack's eyes, like a camera lens, instantly recorded every detail that was visible: the pale blue cloth of her jeans, battered and covered with dirt and ripped open at the knees; her shoe—only one, the other one was missing; blood seeping into her sock, slowly turning the heel to crimson. There was not even a flicker of movement. Jack thought he would throw up—his heart hammered so hard in his chest that it wrenched against his stomach.

The same crowd that had been viewing the condor now panted up behind him, and he could hear a voice say, “Oh, my…I think someone fell!”

“To the bottom?”

“How horrible—”

“Call the police!”

“Let me see—”

“No!”
Jack hadn't realized until then that he was crying.
“Stay away! Just stay away!”
But the crowd pressed forward to the edge before recoiling in horror. The woman with the gray hair put her hand to her mouth, shaking her head.

“Does anybody have a cell phone?” a man in the crowd demanded.

“I do, but mine doesn't work in the canyon,” a young woman wearing a baseball cap cried out.

“I'll find a phone,” a teenage boy said just as Morgan came running up, his face flushed, his hair whipped into dark strings. Breathlessly he gasped, “I called. They're—they're on their way. Does anybody know—like—first aid?”

The man who had asked for a cell phone shook his head. “None of us can help. Even if we could, there's no way to get down there. It's hopeless.”

“Mom,” Ashley cried desperately. “Mom! Are you OK?
Mom!”

“Help's coming,” Jack yelled down to his mother. “If you can hear me, move your leg, just a little. Can you hear me, Mom?” When Olivia's legs remained perfectly still, Jack tasted panic in his mouth. “Just hang on,” he cried. “You're going to be all right!” His words disappeared into the vast chasm of the Grand Canyon.

After what seemed like an eternity, Jack heard a siren. Soon a paramedic unit arrived, brakes screeching as their vehicles drove straight along the asphalt hiking trail at the rim. “Everybody, clear out!” a man in a dark uniform barked. Others on the rescue team moved fast, unloading equipment from trucks.

“Get back from the edge, son,” one of the Search and Rescue Team members told Jack. “Way back.”

“It's my mother down there,” Jack pleaded, but the man said, “Well, then, you certainly wouldn't want to hamper our rescue efforts, would you.”

Another ranger was already herding Jack, Ashley, and Morgan back onto the paved path, where Jack, helpless, could do nothing but watch the procedure.

But he had no trouble hearing what they said. “She seems to be caught on the tree, but there's a chance it'll let loose, and she could fall all the way down.”

“Set up a couple of anchors. There are some big boulders over there that'll hold weight.” Within seconds, the team had wrapped ropes, separately, around each of the boulders.

“Equalize the weight,” a woman ordered, pulling on the ropes. “Got the carabiners?”

“Right here.” The man who'd first moved Jack out of the way held up two large clamps with long ropes attached and offered, “I'll go down, Jenny. You belay me.”

Almost before Jack could follow what was happening, the man, wearing a harness and holding a rope, had slipped over the edge of the cliff, while the woman named Jenny paid out a second rope to secure him. Less than a minute later, another member of the Search and Rescue Team lowered herself over the edge and began to rappel down the face of the cliff.

“They've reached the victim,” a ranger said. “They've got a rescue harness on her.” Jack had the feeling that the man was relaying that information for his and Ashley's benefit. “Now they're putting a cervical collar on her and getting her into a litter. We've got to start a line in her, and then we'll bring her up.”

Cervical collar? That was one of those high stiff braces that protected an injured neck. If they were trying to protect Olivia's neck, that must mean she was—alive! Or was that just procedure? Why wouldn't they pull her up to the top so he could know for sure? Hurry,
hurry!
Jack cried under his breath, but time didn't move. Everything around him seemed slow motion.

Oblivious to the drama going on beneath them, a pair of hawks swooped close, curious to see what was happening below, but Jack felt only a surge of anger at their indifferent gaze. A lifetime ago he would have grabbed his camera and tried to get every shot he could of the birds riding the cool canyon breeze. But in a split second, nothing mattered that used to, not the birds or the shadows slicing the Grand Canyon with slashes of silver. All that mattered was strapped into a litter a hundred feet below.

“Here she comes,” the man barked. “OK, stand back.”

Just at that moment Steven reached them, his face red from exertion and panic. “I heard—” he gasped. “Is it…is it…?”

“Yes, it's Mom,” Ashley cried, bursting into tears as she threw herself into her father's arms.

The woman, Jenny, who was working the belay line, asked Steven, “Are you the husband?”

“Yes—I'm Steven Landon. Olivia—my wife—is she…?”

“She's alive. I don't know anything about her condition, but she's still with us, and that's pretty much a miracle.”

With agonizing slowness, the team members pulled the litter up the side of the cliff.

“What's taking so long?” Ashley cried.

“We don't want to rush it,” Jenny explained. “We need to take it slow to make sure she's safe. Don't worry, she's almost here. You need to stand back.”

“Can you tell me anything about her condition?” Steven's voice sounded desperate.

“No. It's too soon. Please, sir, they're almost up. You need to stand back.”

And then the litter appeared, and nothing could stop Steven and his two children from rushing forward. “Olivia!” he cried, and Jack and Ashley yelled, “Mom!”

“I'm sorry, you've got to back up, all of you,” one of the rangers ordered. “We want to disconnect the rescue harness and get her into the ambulance. I know it's hard, but we're doing a job here.”

His mother looked so small on the litter. The thick, white neck-brace dwarfed her face, which had been scraped raw on one side. Plastic tubes snaked from her arm, ending in a clear bag filled with some kind of fluid. It was her lifelessness that terrified Jack. If only she would make the tiniest flicker of motion. “Come on, Mom,” he prayed under his breath. “Wake up.” One of the paramedics gently pushed Jack out of the way, and he stood back where he'd been ordered to, watching. His fingernails dug into his palms, and his heart thumped wildly as he tried to reassure himself. His mother was alive, at least. Any minute now, she would wake up and everything would be the way it had been before.

One of the rangers was talking rapidly to Steven, filling him in on what had happened, on everything they'd done. “She got caught on that juniper tree on her way down,” the man said. “That's what broke her fall. It kept her alive.”

Jack watched as his father tightened an arm around Ashley while Morgan hovered behind them, nervously plucking at his meager beard, staring in silence.

“She looks so awful! What if she still might die?” Ashley sobbed.

Steven shook his head decisively. “That's not going to happen. She'll be all right.” For a moment, Steven pulled his arm away from Ashley, pressed his fingers over his eyes, then, blinking hard, he opened them. “The most important thing is that she didn't go all the way down. That ledge, and the tree, saved her life.”

The spot where Olivia had gone over the rim was the only place within a hundred-yard perimeter that had a ledge beneath it. And on that ledge grew a lone tree that had broken her fall, that had caught her in its branches like a mother's arms reaching out for a baby. Ten feet farther along the rim in either direction, east or west, would have meant a sheer, mile-long drop. And from that, there would have been no chance of survival.

“…apparent head injury and possible internal trauma,” a paramedic called into a two-way radio. “Bruises and abrasions. BP is 86 over 64; pulse rate 122.” There was a pause, and then, “OK. We're on our way.”

“All right, people, let's move her,” one of the paramedics ordered. “On my count: One, two, three….” The Search and Rescue Team moved back, and the paramedics hoisted the litter between them.

Olivia's feet swayed gently as the paramedics began to carry her, but Jack thought he saw something else. A movement, so tiny it could have been made by butterfly wings, stirred on her face. “Wait!” he cried, rushing forward. “Her eyes—I think—!”

“Hold on!” The men carrying the litter stopped; one of the women paramedics squatted low, searching Olivia's face. “Ma'am, I'm Lisa Patrick with the Grand Canyon rescue team. You've had a fall. Can you hear me, ma'am?”

Like curtains parting, Olivia's lids fluttered open. It took a moment for her mouth to work, as if her lips were too stiff to form words properly.

“Steven?” she asked weakly.

“I'm here,” Steven said, kneeling at her side, a look of relief and elation breaking across his face.

“Sir, please stand back for a moment.” Lisa's voice was kind, but firm. “Ma'am, I'd like to ask you a few questions. What is your name?”

“Olivia.” She swallowed, then added, “My name is Olivia Landon.”

“Good. Can you tell me what day it is?”

“Tuesday,” she said weakly. “I think—yes—it's Tuesday. I talked to CNN today. About the condors.”

“Excellent. You're doing great. Olivia, you've had a fall. You went over the edge at Grandeur Point. Do you remember what happened?”

Raising her arm, Olivia gingerly touched her neck. “I'm in a brace?”

“Yes. I'd like to ask you not to move your head until we get you checked out. We need some x-rays. Can you wiggle your hands for me?”

Olivia's hands clenched and unclenched, and Jack felt a sudden surge of joy. He wasn't a doctor, but he knew that being able to move was a good sign.

His mother spoke again, and this time her voice was urgent. “Jack—Ashley?”

“I'm right here,” Jack answered, while Ashley gave a worried smile and asked, “Do you hurt, Mom?”

“Morgan…? Where's Morgan?”

“Here. Man, you just disappeared,” Morgan said. His voice sounded strangely tight, as if he had to push each syllable from his throat. “I mean, first you were there, and then you weren't.”

“Yes…I remember….”

“All right, Olivia, we have to get you to the medical center,” Lisa insisted, rolling back onto her heels and standing up. “Mr. Landon, you can ride in the ambulance with us, but I'm afraid there's not enough room for your children. If it's all right with you, they can go with Ranger Kenton here and meet up with us at the Grand Canyon Clinic.”

A man in a park uniform stepped forward. His skin was dark, and he was square-jawed. Thick muscles rippled beneath his taut shirt. In a deep, rumbling voice he announced, “I'm Ted Kenton, a law-enforcement ranger here at the park.” To Lisa, he said, “I'd be happy to bring the kids. But before you take Dr. Landon, I have one question I need to ask.”

 

Placing himself directly in her line of vision, he inquired, “Do you remember what happened to you, Dr. Landon?”

“Yes.” Olivia touched her neck brace again. “I…I was standing. At the rim. But not too close.”

“Not too close?” Ranger Kenton's eyes widened. He looked as if he were from the military, holding himself in a way that elevated every millimeter of his five-foot-ten-inch height. Something about what she said seemed to have caught his concern. “Right. Not too close. Watching a condor.”

“Ted, is this necessary? Can't you wait?” Lisa interrupted. “We should take her for x-rays.”

“Just one more minute,” he said, holding up his hand. “Were you alone?”