Bryon was suddenly being dragged by his father, the grip of his hand vise tight and unyielding.

“Keep going,” a man shouted as they worked their way south. It seemed odd to hear and see a real person after the past half-hour. He jogged swiftly by intent on the northern end of the valley and Cal was relieved; someone was going to look for Marilyn.

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A few minutes later, a second man hurried past carrying a camera. “Your daughter is at the base of the bridge. We have people there helping her,” the man called out as he ran.

A flash lit the valley and Cal could see the bridge in the distance. All thoughts of Marilyn were driven from his mind when the man’s words burned through his self-pity. The fatigue Cal felt seared from him; one of his children was hurt.