lungs and, exhausted, I finally reached the beach, where I hoped I could flee south then inland towards Pfeiffer Canyon Bridge.
I inspected my leg, which peeked through my torn, blood- and mud-soaked jeans, but I strangely didn’t feel pain.
I sat on my favorite rock and caught back my breath, Beanie by my side. I took off each sneaker and emptied out glassfuls of muddy water, then put the soggy things back on, reluctantly. The waves rolled in, slamming the sand on every angry break. Hissing, frothing foam. Tides of mud, majestic redwoods, pines, and rocks, like Niagara Falls, tumbled in a steady wash over Cliffside, burying the place in a giant earthy tomb. I watched in horror, tears streaming down my face, as what was left of my house vanished before my eyes.
A new sound joined in the mayhem. More helicopters, but different from those before, dipped and spun above where Cliffside had been, shining beams of light onto the wreckage of this mudslide, which now covered the macabre deaths. The helicopters patrolled the sky, hovering over the landslide like wasps on honey. The aftermath well buried now, I wondered if anyone even realized what had gone down, had any idea what lay beneath? It was getting much darker, the sky covered in a thick layer of inky black rain clouds. Visibility really low.
Nobody had spotted me, the mud-splattered speck that I was.
But something told me I’d survive.
Fifty-Six
As soon as I mustered up enough strength I plodded ahead, hoping I could find my way out at Pfeiffer Canyon Bridge. Fortune was on my side; the tide was low, which meant if I was careful, I wouldn’t get swept out to sea. The helicopters continued to circle, but nobody had seen me. A sudden gust of wind pushed away some dark clouds and lit up the sky a touch, but it was now well past dusk. Caked from head to foot in mud, the gray sweater I was wearing beneath melded me into the gray landscape. I was as good as invisible.
But out of the corner of my right eye, sliding into my peripheral vision, a helicopter swept in above the side of the beach, hovering there. A laser of light spiraled around me. I had finally been spotted. I froze in the glare of the beam, my vision blinded, but when the spotlight was off me, and in the blaze of after-image, I saw the helicopter was a different shape from the others now hovering above the wreckage. I held my breath. It dipped its nose and landed, still quite a distance from me, and a figure jumped out.
A figure I knew better than my own body.
I stared, mouth open in amazement. My heart floundered with disbelief. Surely it was the shock of surviving all this? The deaths, the earthquake, and seeing Cliffside disappear beneath the landslide? My eyes were playing tricks on me, weren’t they? This was not real. How could it be?
The dark figure started walking towards me, feet kicking the sand as it moved closer. Each step a statement. Each step a moment closer to my finale. I stayed rooted to the spot, not taking my eyes off him. I wasn’t imagining it. Or was I? But the shock I held in my eyes, and the leap of my heart, told me it could be just that.
Juan.
Fifty-Seven
The next day I listened intently to the news on the radio, counting my blessings that I was alive.
“Six civilians and four highway patrol officers are thought to have perished along the Big Sur coastline in what is being described as the mother of all landslides that was partly activated after a 4.4 magnitude earthquake hit the coast on Friday. This massive landslide along California’s iconic Highway One has buried the road under an impenetrable layer of rock and earth.
“With power cuts, faulty radio networks, and all evidence buried under the wash of mud, nobody knows for certain why so many officers had gathered together in the line of duty on Friday evening. Witnesses say they heard gunshots, but thunder and lightning, and loss of electricity at that time make it impossible to ascertain what really happened. Ongoing investigating is underway.
“Five million cubic yards of earth has buried not only the highway but the coast beneath it, taking in its wake a multi-million-dollar home named Cliffside. Ten people are said to be missing, presumed dead.
“The landslide has added thirteen acres of additional coastline and put Highway One under forty feet of