Roy DeSoto opened his eyes. And stared up. Straight up. A long way up. Not good. Because he was in a very narrow place…and the dirt around him felt crumbly. And that patch of blue sky was way too small. His head hurt like hell and…what had happened? Where was he?

Slowly, as he flexed his muscles and assessed himself for injuries, he discovered several things. Number one: He could barely move. Number Two: He didn't really want to move. Because bad things happened when he did. And he really wasn't sure where he was hurt. Because it all hurt.

He also realized that the boots he had been idly staring at for the last few…minutes(?) hours(?)...were his own. And that was weird, because they were above him. There was something fundamentally wrong with that thought, but he couldn't quite make sense of what it was. He was tired, and so, he decided a nap might be the best course of action. Another part of his mind screamed for him not to go to sleep, but he ignored that voice, and closed his eyes. Maybe things would look better when he woke up.

They didn't. Because when he opened his eyes the next time, it was dark. The patch of sky was dark. Huh. Night time. Twisted up like a pretzel and trapped. And…alone. He began to wrack his brain trying to remember what had happened. He did another assessment, and was no happier than he had been the first time. He was dehydrated and his legs was numb, whether from the odd half-upside-down position or from something worse, he didn't know. His back hurt, and his head hurt like someone was tapping him with a crowbar.

His neck itched and he managed to work one hand from where it was trapped in the dirt up to scratch it. Unfortunately, that action loosed a small cascade of dirt and gravel. He held his breath and prayed the whole thing would not collapse on top of him. And speaking of things, just where was he trapped, anyway? He concentrated very hard for a few minutes, willing himself to remember.

And just like that, he remembered. A well. He had fallen into an old well on the property he and Jo were looking to buy. A well that was not shown on the map of the property the owner had sent him. He had been checking it out on the way back from the Annual Paramedics Convention in San Francisco. He had driven up, instead of flying, specifically so he could detour on his way back and check out the property. Johnny had chosen to use the rest of his vacation time to stay in San Francisco for a few days, as he had met a girl…of course. Unfortunately, the property was on the outskirts of Napa Valley, and in the middle of exactly nowhere.

About this time, he decided he had had enough of the narrow dirty space, and of being upside down. He needed to figure a way out. And to do that, he was going to have to get himself turned around. Carefully. At least his head was faced in the right direction. That was the good news. The bad news was that he felt a little like a corkscrew at the moment. A U-shaped corkscrew. It didn't take a genius to see the risks in trying to dig himself out. But what if no one came by? The property was isolated. He had seen only a car or two since leaving the highway.

Mumbling a prayer under his breath, Roy began the slow task of turning around. "God, I know I don't talk with you all that much, but I could really use Your help here. I gotta get outta here and get back to Jo and the kids. Besides, Johnny will never forgive me if I die on him out here."

Carefully, he began to scoop away the dirt and gravel that seemed to be pinning him in. It wasn't easy, but eventually, he cleared the area immediately surrounding his shoulders and arms. There were a few small slides, but nothing he couldn't handle. Once he could move his arms freely, he sighed in relief. "Thank you, God!" He started wiggling, carefully (!) and eventually was able to widen the area around his torso. He sighed in pure relief when at last he was able to slide his legs slightly further down and actually sit fully on his butt instead of laying on his back. His legs were still torqued uncomfortably in front of him, so he still felt like a half a giant paper clip, but at least it was progress.

~EEE~

Eventually, Roy dug around long enough that he was able to move with a bit more ease. His goals had become simply to get his legs unstuck, and to survive until someone found him. His legs were completely numb. The paramedic in him told him it was because they had been one position too long, and gravity accounted for the blood draining towards his hips, At least, that's what he told himself. He could not know the extent to which he was injured, so the fact that it could be worse was one he simply set aside. He would deal with that when he had to.

He was definitely dehydrated…two days in a pit like this and it was not surprising. He knew he was on his second day, because he had watched the sky change with agonizing slowness…He had fallen in during a late afternoon. The night was cold and miserable, though he must have been unconscious for a while, because when he had wakened, he had watched the twilight fade once again…and another long, cold night had begun. And as he lay there, Roy realized that rescue was unlikely…he had to get out by himself. He peered up into the distant dawn sky, and thought to himself, alright, DeSoto, time to choose. Either you start moving and try to get out…or you die here. Which will it be?

He took some deep breaths…not easy in his current position. He set aside his hunger, his thirst and his pain, and cautiously began to dig once more. He was determined to get out. Jo and the kids were waiting. Hopefully, Johnny would realize something wasn't right, and would start to search for him. But Roy did not count on it…he would do what he had to do. And he would survive.

And so, it was many hours later, with the late afternoon sun shining into his prison, that Roy finally dug away the soil around him enough that he could move his legs. Not easily, and the nerves and muscles screamed in protest…but he moved, and finally got his legs under him, where they belonged. He could have wept with relief. As it was, he was too weak to do much more than smile. He would rest for a while, catch his breath. And begin again—because now his goal had changed. Now, he was determined to figure a way to climb out. He shut his eyes and rested, knowing panic would gain him nothing, and he would need a few hours rest before he tackled the impossible climb ahead of him.

~EEEE~

John Gage was feeling good. He had spent the day in the company of a very pretty girl, someone he had met at the convention. She was not a paramedic. She worked at the convention center as one of the coordinators for the convention. She had agreed to go with him to Fisherman's Wharf tomorrow to do some sightseeing and have dinner at one of the many excellent restaurants located there.

He stepped into his hotel room, intending to take a shower and hit the sack. Dinner had been great, and he had enjoyed the low-key conversation and no pressure atmosphere. Despite his reputation in Los Angeles, he was not a bed-hopper, though he was a flirt. Being on his own for a few days gave him the chance to just be himself.

He had just shed his clothes and grabbed a towel when he noticed his message light blinking. That was odd, because other than Roy and Jo, no one even knew he was in this room. And Roy knew he wasn't going to be around much. Internal alarm bells began sounding when he picked it up and Jo's voice came over the line. Her message was short and to the point, but he heard the current of panic in her words.

"Johnny, I don't care when you get this message. Please call me. Roy is not home, and he should have been home hours ago! I called the hotel and they said he checked out. Call me please!"

A second message from Jo an hour or so later followed the first. "I called the station and Captain Stanley called around as well. No one has heard anything…not the hospitals…no one. Oh, John, call me! "

He checked the time of the messages…both had been sent the day before. He could have kicked himself…he had gotten in very late last night and wanted to sleep. He never even looked at the phone. And somehow, he had missed it this morning in his rush to meet Tara. He grabbed the receiver and called Roy's home, praying his partner would answer. He didn't. Instead, Jo answered…sounding as panicked as he had ever heard her.

"Hello, Roy?" Jo's voice was ragged with fear and exhaustion. John could tell she had not slept.

"No, Jo, it's me."

"Johnny! I was trying to reach you! Is Roy with you?"

"No, Jo. He left the convention a little early. I haven't see him in a couple of days." Dread was turning his stomach into ice. "He said he was gonna go check out the property in Napa you guys are thinking about buying."

"If that's true, then he should have been home sometime yesterday morning…at the latest. John, there is nothing close to the property…at all. Not even a motel, gas station…nothing. The nearest neighbor is at least a mile away. It was one reason Roy liked it…the fact that it was fairly remote. He was thinking we could fix it up a little at a time and then retire up there. The only thing on the land is an abandoned winery and the vineyard. The house burned down four years ago."

"Jo, I will find him. Give me the directions and I'll head down there right away. I'll call you when I get there. He has to be somewhere out there." He paused, as a thousand possibilities ran through his mind, none of them good. But he knew there was one promise he had to make, and he only prayed he would be able to fulfill it: "Jo, I promise you, I will find him and bring him home."

He could hear her tears. "Thank you, Johnny."

And as he hung up the phone, one thought remained, and he muttered it to himself as he headed for the shower. "Pally, you better have a damned good reason for scaring us like this. And you better not be dead!"

~EEE~

Progress! Roy had begun to work his way up the narrow walls of the well. If he could just keep it up, he figured he would be out within an hour or so. But it was tough, and it was dangerous. He knew what could happen if he fell again…and he knew he would not survive another day or two in the well. "Please, God, give me a break here, willya?"

He had worked out a system of inching upwards by leaning back against the wall of the well and using his arms and legs to move himself up. He knew it was risky, but he really had no choice. And so, he climbed.

It was nearly dark again by the time he was in sight of the top. He was so close… He leaned back and braced his legs for the final push over the rim…and the wall behind him began to crumble. He had time only for a startled scream, and the pure terror of falling… and then blackness.

Searing pain lanced through him and he realized he was in big trouble…because now, he had broken something…several somethings possibly. He was back at the bottom of the well. Johnny, where the hell are you? His thoughts went unanswered, of course, and for a time, he simply lay where he was, not daring to move. He was breathing…so that was a plus. The sky far above him was dark, and cloudy. If it rained, it meant he would maybe be able to quench his thirst. If it rained too much, well…then he wouldn't need to worry about thirst ever again…

A couple of hours later, something caught Roy's attention…a movement by the top of the well. It was still dark, so it made no sense that he was seeing anything…but there was definitely something there…and then, the image seemed to shimmer and then come into focus with startling clarity. Roy figured he must be getting delirious…because a wolf…the biggest he had ever seen was now staring down at him…a silver and black wolf…with the largest chocolate brown eyes he had ever seen.

~EEE~

Johnny was cursing silently to himself as he pulled off the main road and began bumping his way up the rutted dirt road that was supposed to lead him back into the main part of the vineyard. He figured he might as well search the buildings first. It had started to rain about a half-hour ago, and it looked like it just might turn into a helluva storm. So, if Roy had had car trouble or something, he would have taken shelter in one of the buildings to wait it out. The trouble was, the rain and dark were obscuring his vision. Hope rose in him when he saw the familiar gold Porsche parked next to a dilapidated old building…which, if Jo had it right, must have been the old winery.

A quick but thorough search told him Roy was not there, nor in any of the surrounding outbuildings... There was no sign of his partner anywhere, and fear began to claw its ugly way into John's mind. Where are you, Pally?

It was far too dangerous to be wandering around the property at night, but the sense of urgency within him kept building until he could not bear to keep still, simply waiting out the storm. With a prayer for protection and for the safety of his partner, John began to hike across the huge field that lay off to the side of the outbuildings. He was immediately soaked to the skin, but ignored that factor completely.

As he hiked, Johnny kept his eyes on the ground. The flashlight he had brought was a good one, but the darkness and the silence of the field seemed to swallow up the small beam of light. It made him feel small, and he wished the weather would clear up. He needed the stars to guide him…he needed—

He was startled when a familiar sound split the night…a wolf howled. The hairs stood up on the back of his neck, and a chill ran down his spine. They don't have wolves in Napa. The next moment he relaxed. They don't have wolves…but lots of people own wolf-dogs. That was probably what he had heard. He played the beam off the mist in front of him, and continued his search.

It was maybe a half-hour later that John realized the fog was beginning to lift though it soon began to rain once more. It gave him renewed hope, because he had seen nothing at all due to the thickness of the fog. The wolf howled again, somewhere close by. Very close by.

~EEE~

Roy had lain nearly motionless for several hours, fading in and out of consciousness. He noted with interest that there seemed to be fog obscuring everything above him, and he wondered idly if he were still hallucinating, because the wolf was till staring down at him every time he woke. He grinned painfully up at the beast and croaked out feebly, "Hey, big fella, what 're you doin' in the middle of nowhere? You tryin' to figure out how to score an easy meal?"

Roy would have sworn he heard the wolf snicker. Which, of course, was impossible. More proof he was delirious. He closed his eyes with a sigh. He was aware he could be dying…. but at least it was peaceful and quiet…and the wolf seemed content to keep him company until the end. His last conscious thought was, Really, in the end, what more could a man ask for? He never heard when the wolf suddenly howled again.

Johnny caught sight of the wolf-dog. It seemed to materialize out of nowhere. It was simply sitting there, staring at him impassively. Cautiously, Johnny walked towards him, though the animal seemed perfectly calm. As Johnny got closer, he realized two things. Number One, it was not a wolf-dog. And Number Two, he had seen this wolf before. He smiled in awe. "Hello, old friend…

This was no ordinary wolf. Johnny was face-to-face with his Spirit Guide. Who suddenly stood, howled and began to stare intently at the ground in front of him His heart beating a mile a minute, Johnny stepped towards the wolf, who now seemed to be ignoring him. He played his light over the ground, and knelt down next to his Guide. He realized he was on the edge of an abandoned well. And he held his breath as he shined his light into the pit. And saw his partner crumpled and motionless at the bottom.

"Ahhh, no!" Johnny breathed softly. He went into full rescue mode and called down, "Roy? Can you hear me?" There was no response and no movement from his partner. He hollered down anyway, "I'm gonna go get help…I'll be back as quick as I can!" And heedless of the danger, John sprinted for his rental car.

The rain had started again, and John was worried that Roy would drown before they were able to get him out of the well…or that the walls would cave in. He sped back to the site. His spirit guide still sat in exactly the same spot…not moving, but still staring into the pit. To John, it was almost as if the wolf were in a trance of some sort…. but then John had no more time for musing. The sheriff and a rescue team arrived and began the agonizing process of extracting Roy from the well. It took several tries and many hours, but by ten o'clock the next morning, in a rare dry moment, since it had rained nearly continuously for hours, Roy was finally lifted in a stokes from the well.

Johnny was muddy, exhausted, and frightened. As they were pulling him up the last few feet, he thought for the first time about the wolf, and looked around for him. He spotted him sitting about twelve feet away, watching the rescue, with that same eerie intensity. At the same moment, he heard a startled gasp from the paramedic who reached to check Roy's vitals now that he was on top. The man looked at his companions in amazement. "Uhh, guys…it's been raining cats and dogs for the last twelve hours or so, right?" They all nodded in agreement, puzzled at the obvious question. The young man looked directly at them. "Somebody wanna explain to me why he is perfectly dry?"

John looked back over to his Spirt Guide…who suddenly vanished without a trace. And John knew no one else had seen the silver and black wolf at all. Silently, he watched as Roy was carried to the waiting ambulance. And he sent a prayer of thanks to Great Father…and to his spirit guide. He glanced at the Porsche…they would come back for it. He jumped into his car, and sped to catch up with the ambulance.

~EEE~

Five days later, Roy was finally fully awake and able to communicate. He remembered little of his ordeal. He had been in critical condition upon arrival at the small community hospital twelve miles from the winery. He had been stabilized and his fractured leg and shoulder had been set and casted. He was given massive amounts of fluids, and had been placed under a battery of warming blankets. Johnny would never forget the surgeon's words when he came out to the waiting room to talk with him after setting his leg. "There is no way he should have survived that long. Somebody was looking out for your friend." Johnny agreed whole-heartedly.

A friend of Mike Stoker's had flown Jo up to the Napa airfield in his Cessna late the morning of Roy's rescue. And now, with any luck, they would soon be taking Roy home. Mike's pilot friend had volunteered to fly Roy and Jo back as soon as the doctor released him and cleared him to fly. John was using the Porsche in the meantime, and would drive it back to Los Angeles.

It would be a long haul, and there would be some rehab required to get Roy back into top condition so that he could return to work…. but they were all confident it would happen. The owner of the winery came to see Roy in the hospital, and apologized profusely for the accident. He had never known the well was even there. As Roy had surmised, there was no record of it in any of the papers he and Jo looked over, nor any such well recorded with any county agency. They talked it over, and put the money down to buy the winery.

Three weeks after his fall, Roy and Jo flew home. Johnny had driven the Porsche to Los Aneles a few days after Roy was stabilized. On the long drive, he had a lot of time to think. He had very nearly lost his best friend. But, when he couldn't be there, he knew now that Roy was as protected as he himself was. For that is part of the concept of "chiye." Brothers…and his spirit guide had watched over his brother when he could not.

Johnny smiled and nodded as he drove. Thank you, Great Father. Thank you.

~The End~