Pursued

PROLOGUE

THE WIND RATTLED the windows of the car as it sped along the highway.

It’s okay, Pani! Kale reassured the worried Alsatian. Just one more stop, then we’ll go home.

Since leaving the city, he had seen only one other car in his rearview mirror, and when he turned off to Nu‘uanu Pali, the yellow headlights sped past and disappeared. Even though it was still early afternoon, the sky was dark.

He parked in the deserted lot, zipped his flapping windbreaker, and followed his dog up a steep, narrow trail. At its far end, he crouched down and groped among the flowering wedelia. He had almost found what he was looking for when Pani uttered a warning bark.

He stood up and looked around.

No one.

Pani’s barks grew louder and Kale heard him galloping back toward the car. He hesitated, uncertain whether to grab the container or follow Pani, whose barks had grown shrill.

Reluctantly, he decided he’d better see what was up.

His car was still the only one in the parking area. But as he walked a few steps closer on the path above the cliff, he could see that now a man was there too, staring down the thousand-foot drop, as though about to jump.

Hey! Stop! Kale shouted.

Pani growled menacingly.

Leaping like a mountain goat from boulder to boulder, Kale bounded down the steep path.

What are you doing? Kale panted, dragging the man back from the edge. Quiet, Pani! Stay.

Coughing, the man stared at him with glittering pale eyes. A scraggly beard covered half his face. He looked familiar, and unfamiliar, like a dream Kale could not remember.

You okay? Kale asked tersely. He could have sworn he knew him.

The stranger stood up straighter and took a few steps, holding out a trembling hand, as though for support. Kale was about to reach out to steady him, when he recoiled in shock.

The man’s palm was oddly square, the fingers long and slender, except for the misshapen thumb. Broken once, it had never properly set. The bone at its base looked as though it might pop out of its socket.

Kale would never forget that grotesque thumb.

He couldn’t take his eyes off it. He no longer heard the howling wind or Pani’s low whines. There was only the stranger’s trembling hand.

The man lifted his eyes. There was no swagger in his walk. There was no chilly arrogance in his eyes. His paste-colored skin seemed stretched over skeletal bones. His hair was discolored with filth and his clothes showed the grime of a homeless man.

Kale longed to turn away and leave the man to his doom.

He could.

No one would ever know.

You’re sick, he shouted over the noise of the wind. Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital. That’s a bad cough.

The stranger shook his head hopelessly, but then a gust of wind almost knocked them into each other. Kale guided him to his car, opened the passenger door, and urged the frail stranger inside. Pani climbed in the back.

As they set off down the road, another gust forced Kale to change his plan to take the stranger to the hospital.

The road into town's too dangerous. I’ll take you to my house instead. It’s closer. We’ll go tomorrow.

You don’t have to do that, the stranger mumbled, his eyes closed.

Kale wished that was true.

They drove in silence, the wind pummeling the car. Far away, they heard the hurricane warning sirens. Kale thought despairingly of the small container hidden under the wedelia. Would it survive the storm, or would he have to begin all over again?

Then a new sound joined the gale: a vicious hissing.

Rain.

They followed the road that swooped back and forth into the valley. The windshield wipers could not keep up with the flood that spewed down.

As they neared the churning ocean, the rain intensified. Kale turned onto the long, unpaved road that led to his house. The wind battered and buffeted the car as it slid and bounced in the muddy ruts. He knew he should concentrate on driving, but his eyes kept straying to the stranger.

Was it a coincidence that he had been about to hurl himself off the edge of the same cliff that Kale had parked beside?

He remembered the lone car that had followed him all the way from Honolulu.

No, this bum could not have planned their strange meeting. He was sick, homeless, crazy.

But how had he gotten all the way to the lookout?

Again Kale glanced at him, puzzled.

Just then, a huge broken tree limb hurtled across the road ahead and crashed against the windshield. The stranger gave a shout of terror.

Cursing, Kale slammed on the brakes. As the car spun crazily, his head banged the side window twice.

They careened into the base of a half-uprooted tree, and the car rolled on its side in a ditch.

Pani barked crazily.

Then a huge, muddy wave lurched in from the nearby beach and broke over the car.

King of Wands–You are good at what you do, and you are successful and admired. You are also impulsive, and you’re willing to take risks. Learn to be more protective of those around you. Don’t let your self-confidence rule your common sense. With strength and power comes responsibility for others.

CHAPTER 1

CHELSEA AND LEIGH hurried on the rumpled sand, just out of reach of the waves. Far from the main road, they could hardly hear the sirens. Leigh’s eyes were fastened on the outcropping of land at the far end of the cove.

Shouldn’t we get back to the car? It’s going to pour! Chelsea paused to tuck her unruly curls into the wide headband.

Leigh looked across the seething ocean at the velvet-thick curtain of rain that swept toward them.

What’s a little rain? But she sounded doubtful.

It’s not just the rain, it’s this wind, too! Too scary. Where’re we headed?

Just a little further.

You’re trying to find out something for a story, aren’t you? Chelsea squealed as a wave snaked around her ankles, soaking her running shoes. Where’d that come from? Are you sure we shouldn’t go back?

As Leigh wavered, a blast of wind grabbed her baseball cap and carried it out to sea, where it bobbed madly on the foam. Alarmed, Chelsea clutched her arm.

Let’s get out of here!

At that moment, a rogue wave crashed up the beach and soaked them to their thighs. Knocked off her feet, Chelsea screamed, thrashing wildly to try to hold on to something so she wouldn’t be swept away.

Leigh grabbed her and held on tight, frightened now. Are you okay?

I think so. Chelsea clung to her, soaking wet, panting.

Okay, come on, Leigh grasped her arm tightly. Let’s get back to the car.

Arms linked tightly, they hurried back the way they had come, hastily rounding the reef that jutted between the two coves. Then they stopped in shock.

Oh, no!

The sandy dune where they’d crossed earlier was now flooded with churning waves that lapped at the base of the cliff.

Where’d the beach go? Chelsea’s voice was shrill.

They stood uncertainly, trying not to panic, watching waves flay the slippery rocks.

Then the wall of rain struck them, like a blow from a huge hand.

They had to act, and fast.

Let’s go on, Leigh said. Maybe there’s a path to the road up ahead.

Holding hands, they slipped and slid across the reef again, and discovered the beach they had been walking along had narrowed to virtually nothing. The cliff, although not tall, was impossible to climb. They waded frantically through the roiling waves to another rocky cove.

There’s probably something smart we’re supposed to do that everyone knows except us. Leigh was furious with herself. She should have trusted the warning sirens and stayed indoors. This rain is unbelievable.

Soaked through, they clambered across another reef, alert for unexpected waves as they grasped at the seaweed and barnacles.

Leigh slipped and fell hard on her knee. Ow!

What happened?

I’m okay—but the reef’s like a knife, so watch out. Let’s keep going.

What’s that noise? Chelsea said suddenly.

They stopped again, listening to a ghostly wail that mingled eerily with the hissing waves and rain.

Siren?

It’s gone. No, there.

It’s a car horn, Leigh realized. Someone’s in trouble.

God, Leigh. What are we going to do?

There has to be a way to get to the road. The cliff looks like it dips up ahead.

But look at those waves!

They did look creepy, gray and shuddering and powerful.

Then they heard the horn again. Three long; three short; three long. SOS.

We’ll have to risk it.

Yes, I know.

Knight of Wands–There is a fine line between foolhardiness and courage. Meet your challenge with speed and grace; you need to focus all your energy on what must be done now. You are daring and brave.

CHAPTER 2

THEY WAITED FOR the reef to be submerged, then as the wave swept back they scrambled across it. Another wave crashed in as they leapt to safety. Running, they reached the low embankment, clutched some scruffy sourbush branches, and pulled themselves out of danger.

The sound of the horn was louder. Three long—three short—

Jumping to the road below, they raced through the glassy deluge toward the faint glow of unmoving headlights.

It’s a car accident. Leigh stopped abruptly.

I know, Chelsea panted. But it’s okay, Leigh. It’s not you. It’s not Andy. And we’ve got to help.

Leigh swallowed. She knew that courage is what you feel in the face of fear and all that, but she wasn’t able to muster up the tiniest bit of bravery in the face of a car accident.

I can’t do it.

"Yes, you can. I know you. Chelsea tugged at her hand. And we have to help."

Leigh forced herself to take a deep, rain-soaked breath. Chelsea was right: this was not a moment to remember anything.

They broke into a run again. Lying on its side, the car was half-submerged in a rising tide of mud mixing with powerful waves that had breached the grassy bank. Its nose rested against the trunk of a huge kukui, which was half torn from the ground.

The tree’s branches slapped sideways in a sudden gust, beating the car. Leigh gasped and stopped. Then the limbs snapped back again, as though at attention.

The driver’s eyes were closed, blood gushing from his forehead. His passenger struggled vainly at his door.

And a gorgeous, panicked Alsatian in the back seat clawed at the window and barked madly.

They did not have much time.

Leigh hammered on the driver’s window. The horn stopped abruptly and he opened his eyes, looking amazed.

The dog went on barking as she futilely tried to pry open the door. Chelsea was at the passenger side. She shook her head in response to Leigh’s questioning look.

The kukui creaked alarmingly overhead as the dog continued to claw desperately at the window.

What’ll we do? Chelsea shouted, struggling out of waist-high mud and sea water.

Smash the windshield! Leigh cried. Find a rock.

While Chelsea scoured the side of the road for a rock, Leigh clambered on to the hood of the car. The tree screeched again. Chelsea tossed her a jagged rock, then backed away hurriedly.

Leigh, for God’s sake! That tree’s about to come down!

Cover your faces, Leigh shouted to the men inside the car, and lifted the rock over her head.

She crunched the rock against the glass. Nothing happened. Damn, windshields were tough.

Through the glass, she saw that the driver had closed his eyes again. He looked ghastly.

"Damn you—break—damn you–" she muttered furiously.

In a burst of passion, she threw the rock at the window. It cracked but did not break. She could hear Chelsea shouting again, warning her to get to safety.

She thrust her heel into the windshield, and finally made a small hole. Over and over, she kicked it through, sending shards flying.

The terrified Alsatian leapt out, barking crazily. Chelsea tried to calm him.

The tree, Leigh, she cried again. Hurry!

Can you climb out? Leigh urged the passenger.

Think so, he managed.

Half-hoisting him onto the rain-slicked hood of the car, she let him slide to the ground, where he collapsed on his knees in the muddy flood, coughing.

Chelsea ran over.

Come on, she pulled at his arm. Over here, away from the tree.

He stumbled beside her to the safety of the bank.

Still kneeling on the slick hood, Leigh shouted at the driver to get out. His eyes were closed and he didn’t respond.

I have to climb inside, Leigh called to Chelsea. He’s not moving.

But the tree!

I know, stay away.

She wriggled through the hole in the windshield. Hey, can you move at all? We’ve got to get you out of here.

I think you’re wasting your time, he murmured, almost apologetically. I’m really stuck.

No, you’re not. I’m going to move your seat back. Get you away from the wheel.

She reached for the seat adjustment and gave a hard shove. He gasped in pain as the seat shifted back.

What is it? she asked, alarmed.

Just my ribs, I hope. Makes it hard to breathe.

Another wave of sea and mud slapped against the passenger window and roiled through the smashed windshield, drenching them.

It’s just this part that’s hard, she urged. Once we’re out of here you’ll be okay. She put her hands under his arms. Head first out the window. Make an effort. But there was no way she could lift him. "You can sort of crawl—that’ll be easier. Never mind your damn ribs. Just get out of the car."

He tried to move. I can’t, he gasped. Sorry. Just get to safety, will you?

"No! Kale, just do this!" Leigh shouted furiously. Come on!

Six of Swords–The crisis passes. You’ve reached the still waters. Rest briefly, but you have more hard work ahead. Focus on the task at hand. Your energy and intelligence are essential now—more so than ever before.

CHAPTER 3

HIS EYES FLICKERED curiously when he heard his name, and the surprise seemed to give him the impetus to wriggle through the hole in the windshield. Leigh followed. They slid helplessly on the wet hood of the car, and crashed headlong onto the muddy road.

Chelsea ran over. Get out of the way! The tree’s coming down!

Hastily, they rolled the driver onto his back, ignoring his agony. Chelsea put her hands under one of his arms, Leigh took the other. Dragging him through the mud, they lay him next to the passenger, who sat with his face on his knees.

Kale said something and Leigh leaned over to hear.

Is Pani okay? My dog?

Pani whined and sniffed Kale’s face.

Yes, he’s right here.

A tearing screech came from the kukui tree and they all looked up. It bent nearly to the ground as though in strange, crazy homage, and its roots were finally torn from the muddy earth. As it crashed down, the car folded like an accordion under its weight.

Holy shit!

Leigh knelt beside Kale and lifted his head into her lap, trying to shelter him from the rain. The dog whined and she patted him.

Pani? That’s your name? Good boy. She met Chelsea’s anxious eyes. What now?

How far back is your Jeep, do you think? Did we come a long way?

The road back to town’s probably blocked by now.

There must be a house around.

Kale spoke, his eyes still closed: A couple of miles. My house—up this road. Dead end.

But even a mile was too far.

I know what we need, Leigh said.

A drink. He opened his eyes and regarded her hopefully.

No, a wheelbarrow! You must have one at your house. I’ll get it and we’ll push you in it!

He laughed and then winced in pain. Who the hell are you?

Leigh Gardner.

His eyes widened. Oh, my God, you’re the reporter, he said hoarsely. So you finally did get to me—used a hurricane and a car wreck.

She had known who he was right away, of course. She had been trying to get an interview for months. He had resisted with such implacable negativity that she knew she shouldn’t be surprised to find him glaring at her now.

Still, she was disappointed. Hadn’t she just saved his life?

"Hey, I didn’t make this storm happen! And I didn’t wreck your car."

He closed his eyes again, his dark face drenched with rain. Wheelbarrow’s in the shed, he murmured. If you head over this hill you’ll see the house.

She turned to the passenger. How are you feeling? Do you think you can walk?

He nodded.

I’ll stay here, Chelsea offered. I’ll try to get help on my cell, too.

I’ll be as quick as I can, Leigh encouraged Kale. Hang in there.

His eyes flickered. I guess you’d like me to, Leigh Gardner.

She grinned at him, gave the dog a pat, and sent a look of encouragement and sympathy to Chelsea, then set off with the other man.

The gusty rain was strangely thick, as though a giant was sloshing water from buckets hidden in the clouds. She couldn’t go as fast as she wanted to because her companion kept stopping to cough. Halfway up the hill they stopped to rest, and then again at the top. From there they finally discerned a gray blur that might be the house.

Take your time, she said gently, although she was eager to push on.

You go ahead. I’ll be okay.

Sure?

He nodded, and so she sped down the hill, avoiding a swaying eucalyptus and jumping over swelling streams of mud. She saw the garden shed, but first she decided to try to call 911. The front door was unlocked, and inside everything seemed murkily dark. No electricity. Even the phone, when she finally found it, was dead.

Back to the shed. A blue, dry wheelbarrow was inside. She pushed it along the path and met the man coming in at the gate.

No power, she said, breathlessly. You get dry and warm, okay? We’ll be back as soon as we can.

He nodded, too winded to speak. The hill felt steeper, climbing it from this side. At the top she rested, breathing hard as she surveyed the crushed car far below. Horrible. She squeezed out memories and pushed the barrow quickly down the hill to where Chelsea sat with Kale’s head cradled in her lap.

She rattled the wheelbarrow to a stop and patted Pani again.

Thank goodness, Chelsea said. I thought maybe you’d forgotten us.

Is he okay?

He keeps passing out, and I can’t get this cut to stop bleeding. But how can we get him to the ER?

We’re probably not supposed to move him, but we have to get him warm and dry.

Is the house far?

A couple of miles. The phone line’s dead. I tried calling.

And there’s no cell reception.

Let’s try to get him into the barrow.

Leigh set the barrow on its nose, close to him. He opened his eyes again as she helped him into a sitting position.

They half-dragged, half pushed him backward into the tilted barrow. He tried to help, walking backward on his hands. The barrow teetered but held as with a final effort they heaved him in. Pani whined, confused.

Taking me for a ride? he joked. But he was ashen and his shivering was worse.

Chelsea bent over to retie the black laces on her running shoes. One of us should go get help. He looks pretty bad. If you can push him by yourself, I’ll jog into town for help. I’m fresher than you are—you’ve just had your run.

But how will an ambulance get past these fallen trees?

Chainsaws—I don’t know! But he needs a doctor.

The other man needs to be checked too.

I’ve got to go then.

It’s ten miles to town. And the storm’s only just begun.

I’ll be okay. Chelsea shook some of the rain out of her riotous blond curls, then tucked them back under the black headband. I’m stronger than I look.

Leigh relented. Chelsea would always look frail to her. And someone did have to get help.

I’ll be okay, Chelsea repeated, setting off. You take care of Kale. I’ll be back as soon as I can.

Page of Cups–So that’s what you look like! Relief and peace are at hand. You are at the delicate beginning of a not-yet-wakened friendship. Take care not to go too quickly. Be protective and aware of what emerges now.

CHAPTER 4

LEIGH PATTED PANI again, then turned to Kale.

Does this road get to your house? It’d be easier than pushing you up the hill.

Yes—it’s farther, but not steep.

Come on, Pani! Let’s get going. But she was too winded to talk. She tried to push smoothly, but the rain had formed deep ruts and Kale winced every time the wheels hit a bump.

How would she get him up the stairs to the front porch? It seemed impossible.

She concentrated on the road ahead. One step at a time, she reminded herself. Always begin where you are. Her grandmother had taught her that. Well, here she was, on a rain-flooded dirt road on a little chunk of lava in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and all she had to do was concentrate on pushing the wheelbarrow.

Take a… rest, she heard him say after a while.

Obeying, she collapsed on the muddy bank and rested her head in her arms for a while, gulping deep breaths. The windy rain kept sweeping over them.

Eventually, she picked up the handles of the wheelbarrow and began pushing again. Pani huffed beside her. I can’t believe I’m in this goddamn storm, rescuing my idol from a car wreck, she panted, trying to sound cheerful. Did you know you’ve been my hero since forever?

I thought you wanted to do an exposé.

Is there anything to expose? she asked hopefully. When he didn’t answer, she went on: We met years ago. You were at MIT with my sister, Beth Gardner. I was only fourteen, so you probably don’t remember me.

Beth Gardner! What’s she up to now?

"Teaches in Florida, but she’s mostly into research. When I was in college I got involved in your North Sea expedition. Went out on the Angora. You were in the Vulcan, remember? We never met, but I always felt I sort of knew you. You inspired me to get involved in environmental activism. I’ve always admired you—your work, I mean."

She had to stop to catch her breath again. Pani trotted around anxiously.

Eventually they reached the gate.

This… damn rain, Kale muttered. Look, when… rested, wheel me around to the back of the house. There’s a back door… no porch steps.

Relieved, she pressed on. A stone path led past the side of the low house to the back door.

The power’s out, by the way, she said.

Figures.

She managed to get the barrow over the low threshold and safely inside. There was hardly any light. She pushed the barrow into the living room.

Okay, she said gently. I’m going to sort of tip you out.

He slipped onto the soft Persian carpet and she quickly propped a couple of cushions under his head. His eyes were closed again and he was shivering. She found the stairs and felt her way up in the semi-dark.

In one bedroom the stranger lay asleep, covered by a down comforter. His wet clothing was in a pile on the floor.

White towels were neatly folded on the shelves in the bathroom and she grabbed a couple. Gauze, tape, and bandages were in the medicine cabinet. In the master bedroom, she seized the comforter and a bathrobe.

Back downstairs, Pani trotted over to her.

Kale had passed out again. It’s okay, he’ll be okay… But she was worried about shock and hypothermia and internal injuries… Stop it. Something warm would help. Was there any liquor? She unbuttoned Kale’s shirt and eased it off, wishing she knew what to do about the ugly-looking bruises on his chest and stomach. It wasn’t easy to strip off the mud-soaked jeans but somehow she managed. She tucked the bathrobe and comforter around him and turned her attention to the gash on his forehead.

A gust of wind and rain rattled the glass doors that opened onto the patio. Should she try to board them up?

He still shivered. She went into the kitchen and looked around for some liquor. Remy would do: she poured some in a small glass and held it under his nose.

Kale, take a sip. I don’t know if you should sleep. You might have a concussion.

His eyes fluttered open. Are you still here?

Drink this, will you? She helped him to a semi-sitting position.

Where’s the man who was in the car with me? he mumbled.

Passed out in one of the bedrooms.

You should get dry, too. And what’s with your hand?

It was bleeding—she must have cut it somehow. No big deal. Okay, I’ll just be a moment. Don’t go to sleep.

Back upstairs, she stripped quickly out of her wet clothes. She longed for a shower to get rid of the mud, but there wasn’t even a trickle of water from the taps, so instead she cleaned off the caked blood with rubbing alcohol and then pulled on a pair of sweats she found in Kale’s dresser.

Before going back down, she checked on the other man. He still slept. His skin was hot and dry, but he seemed to be breathing normally. She studied him curiously: his untrimmed beard, muddy hair.

His face seemed covered with a layer of grime.

Was it just from the muck of the car accident?

She turned down the blanket just a little and examined his hands. His fingernails were especially filthy.

Odd.

Curiously, she went over to the pile of clothes and picked up his wet pants. The hems were frayed and there was a hole in one of the knees.

And what was that musty smell?

The thin shirt was soiled and threadbare.

A hired hand? Or—homeless?

She went back downstairs. Kale’s eyes flickered open.

Are we really inside, out of the storm? he said, struggling to prop himself up on the cushions.

We really are. She smiled at him, arranging a pillow more comfortably behind his head. You can relax now.

Relax? With you around? How come I’m more scared now than when I was trapped in the car wreck?

Ace of Cups–Any ace augurs a beginning and the cups show the birth of a relationship … A seed is forming—something is growing inside you that needs to be treated with great tenderness so it can emerge to full fruition. Your heart is massive—make sure you are able to contain it wisely so it doesn’t overwhelm your life.

CHAPTER 5

DON'T BE SILLY. She sat on the rug beside him. I’m not going to snoop around.

I can’t believe this. I’m alone in my house, unable to move, with a notorious investigative reporter telling me to relax.

She smiled again. Have anything to hide?

All my dirty laundry.

Ha. I won’t check the hamper.

She leaned against the couch, occasionally stroking Pani’s silky head as he lay quietly. Kale’s eyes were closed, but Leigh knew he was awake from his uneven breathing. She liked his lean jaw and friendly mouth. He looked like a Hawaiian god, with his dark brows and the short dark hair that stood straight up from his forehead. His eyelids looked as though they were finely etched in ink. Even when he’d been in pain and in danger for his life, he’d seemed inwardly still and steady. Her heart hummed in her chest as she studied him.

Could she have formed a crush so quickly?

She took a sip of brandy, gazing at him. He had been her idol for so many years that she felt she knew him well. His interest in connecting scientific investigation with esoteric insight fascinated her. He strongly believed that imagination was as important as research and proof. He was legendary for assigning his students poems to write and pictures to draw. He was not afraid of exploring possibilities that were taboo in most scientific circles: extrasensory perception, for example, and he had written a paper on how the vibrations emanating from various rocks can impact mood. She’d read everything he had written, and watched every lecture that was posted on YouTube or on his university’s web site. She was fascinated by his arguments and his logic. His discovery that there were qualities in lava that, when placed in high vibratory frequencies, transformed them into organic matter, blew her away. Alchemy, traditional scientists had scoffed, but even so he’d been invited to speak at a Nobel convention in Sweden about the energetic field surrounding the lava as it metamorphosed into bacteria.

Theoretically, at least. Of course, it wasn’t really possible. Not yet.

And now he’d turned his attention to investigating whether magnetism could heal living cells through magnetic resonance and vibration.

It made sense to her. Leigh had often sought alternative healing methods before mainstream ones, and believed in them. She longed to learn more about what he had discovered, but he was so secretive about this latest project that all she knew was that he was using the smallest life forms—microbial bacteria—to see if magnetism could impact them beneficially. And that he had been slammed by critics, competitors, and the media for accepting financial support for such a speculative theory.

After a while she realized he’d gone to sleep. She didn’t have the heart to wake him, even though she knew he should be kept conscious. Instead, she rose restlessly and explored the house. The essence of the Pacific islands permeated all the rooms. Hawaiian plants and shells decorated a glass dining table. She studied the original still life by Van James, and a rendering of pink and white plumeria by an artist she did not know. Tropical magnolias and other paintings of plants and flowers hung in the hall.

Even the laundry room had an ocean theme, with glass fish embedded in the tiled walls, and a floor of smooth white sand.

She peeked into what was probably his office, where carved koa lamps depicting island outriggers beckoned from the bay windowsills. She was