I didn’t like giving up, but Maisie wasn’t here. Gliding over Jack’s Peak Park, a wooded area in the Carmel Valley, I scanned the forest floor for a little white dog. It was about six miles across a corner of the green space between my home and the coast. I wasn’t positive I was thinking about the right bridge, so when I hit the ocean, I flew up to Pebble Beach and then started toward Point Lobos.
I stopped at any and all structures that would be hard-pressed to be labeled as bridges. They were more like narrow splits in the ground that a road went over. Regardless, I landed and searched. When I made it to Rocky Point Bridge, I saw it was a proper, one-arch bridge.
It joined two cliff faces and had a rocky ravine far below that the ocean filled during high tide. Nick was right; there were still a decent number of cars passing over the bridge. A couple of cars were parked in a pull-out before the bridge began, their drivers taking pictures of the ocean and crashing waves.
One of them noticed me and spun to take a picture. I arrowed down to fly under the bridge and was met with a strange chill. Yes, the wind off the ocean was strong, but that wasn’t what I was feeling. This was an unnatural cold that seeped beneath my feathers.
Landing on a support strut, I studied the bridge and the rocks far below. I couldn’t make sense of what I was seeing. There was a shadow where one shouldn’t have been. I was having a hard time interpreting what was making it.
It was approaching sunset, but the sky was still quite bright. Given the sun’s position in the sky, I knew where the shadows should be and what shapes they should take. Our brains recognize familiar patterns and warn us when they’re off. Right now, my brain was setting off alarms. The shadows did not reflect the cliffs, rocks, and bridge.
There was something under the bridge that cast a large shadow, though it was invisible to the eye.
Gauging where the object must be, given the shadow, I stared hard at the spot at the top of the cliff, between the bridge struts and below the road. Something quite large was nestled away from the sun. Mostly.
When I stared directly at the spot, I saw nothing. When my gaze shifted to the side, I perceived an outline in my peripheral vision. Trying hard to make out a shape, I stared away from it, farther into the rocky inlet. It was only an impression, but I knew whatever it was was moving.
I was so engrossed in what may or may not be invisibly crouching near me, it took me far too long to realize I was staring at something white scrabbling up the side of the cliff. It was trying to climb the steep side out of the inlet, but the rocky edge was too vertical. When it fell with a yelp, I realized I was seeing a dog. A white dog. Maisie.
I hopped off the bridge strut and glided down to Harold’s dog. Now that I was looking, many flashes of metal hit me. Dog tags. An antler was wedged under a large boulder. I swooped low over the rocks and saw bones in and amongst the sand and rocks.
Maisie looked rough—dirty and panicked—with a little blood on her neck. With one talon, I snatched at her collar. With the other, I grabbed her back.
Beating my wings, I lifted her up, carrying her to the top of the cliff. She whined and squirmed, but I held tight, trying not to let my claws hurt her. Maisie was making so much noise, whining and barking, that it took me a moment to realize I was hearing something else, something loud and low, like a train bellowing in a tunnel.
By the time I dropped Maisie on the wild grass at the top, the roar had caused loose rocks to slide down the cliffside. What the hell was that?
Thankfully, Maisie was too scared to move. I flew back over the narrow ravine, staring under the bridge at the waves washing up on the rocks, counting on my peripheral vision to catch something. And there it was. The invisible outline pushed out of its hiding spot.
Deciding I was in over my head, I flew back to Maisie and waited with her for Nick to arrive. I watched the sun dipping low in the sky and felt a chill run through me. I couldn’t explain why, but I was certain that once night fell, we’d be in serious trouble.
The traffic was easing. Far fewer cars were passing over the bridge than when I’d first arrived. A woman stood beside her car in the pull-out, taking photos of the sunset. Thankfully, Nick pulled in behind her. When he stepped out, I spread my wings so he’d see us.
Nick checked traffic and then ran across the road, over the rocks, and behind a bush to find me watching over a trembling dog.
“Hey. Who is this little one?” He crouched beside us, and I waved a claw at the tag around her neck.
“Maisie, huh?” He scratched under her chin and then left his big, warm hand on her back, trying to comfort her. He looked over his shoulder at the road and then picked up Maisie. “The lady’s gone. Let’s go back. You can shift and tell me what’s going on.”
He jogged back across the dark road and then went to the ocean side of his SUV to open the back passenger door for me. I appreciated that he was making this less obvious. Owls don’t usually jump into vehicles.
“Go into the back. I have extra sweatpants and tees you can use.” He sat in the front seat with Maisie still in his arms. “Poor thing,” he murmured.
I hopped over the seat back and felt the familiar fire race through me. Nick kept a large plastic bin of extra clothes, as did most shifters.
“There are shorts in there too,” he said. “You’re going to drown in my sweatpants.”
I dug down and found a pair of fleece shorts. After pulling on a tee and squirming into a pair of his shorts, I yanked the cord at my waist as tight as I could and climbed into the back seat.
Nick looked back at me. “Would you like to join us up here?”
I shook my head while I braided my hair. “The seat backs are too high. If I climbed through in the middle, I’ll end up in your lap. I’m fine back here.”
He turned so his back was against the driver’s door. “Fair enough. So, where did you find this one?” He lifted Maisie, who was trying to snuggle closer to him.
“Can you call the number on her collar first? I want Harold to know she’s been found. He’s beside himself and probably still wandering the neighborhood looking for her.”
Nick gave me a funny look and then pulled out his phone, tilting her collar toward the moonlight while he dialed. “Hello. Yes, is this Maisie’s person?”
