
Part 1
On October 12, 2014, at 7:45 a.m., surveillance cameras at the south entrance of Grand Canyon National Park recorded a gray Honda Civic entering through the checkpoint. Behind the wheel was 26-year-old Tina Medina, a graduate student in the Department of Geology at Northern Arizona University. She smiled as she handed her pass to the ranger.
It was the last confirmed image of her for 5 years.
Tina was headed to Lipan Point, a remote lookout on the South Rim. From there, she planned to descend the Tanner Trail, a 9-mile route known for its steep elevation changes, lack of reliable water sources, and extreme difficulty. Unprepared hikers could easily die on that trail. Tina was not inexperienced. Her Osprey backpack contained 4 days of food, topographic maps, and specialized geological equipment. She intended to reach the Colorado River, conduct a rock survey, and return by Thursday.
At 8:15 a.m., her cell phone connected to a tower for the last time. She sent a message to her mother: the connection would be lost in a couple of minutes; she would be back on Thursday before lunch; love you.
The device never reconnected to the network. Geolocation data placed it at the beginning of the Tanner Trail when the message was sent.
Tina wore a bright orange windbreaker and gray hiking pants. She was clearly visible against the red rock landscape.
Thursday, October 16, passed without contact. Tina failed to report for her scheduled shift at the university in Flagstaff. That evening, at 7:30 p.m., her parents contacted police.
Park rangers arrived at the Lipan Point parking lot 40 minutes later. Tina’s car remained in the same spot where cameras had recorded it 4 days earlier. It was covered in dust and locked. There were no signs of forced entry or struggle.
Inside the vehicle, officers found an unfolded park map and a crumpled receipt from Summit Hut Outfitter in Tucson dated October 10, confirming she had prepared in advance.
At dawn on October 17, a large-scale search began. Helicopters from the Department of Public Safety joined canine units and volunteer teams. The search covered the Tanner Trail, surrounding landslides, and sheer cliffs. Temperatures rose sharply during the day and dropped at night, decreasing the chances of survival.
For 3 days, nothing was found.
On the fifth day, a hiking group in the Bravo sector noticed a bright patch of color on a distant slope. After 3 hours of climbing, they reached it. It was a torn fragment of orange synthetic fabric caught in the branches of a juniper bush.
The location was 2 miles off the marked Tanner Trail, near vertical cliffs in the Palisades area. The fabric was confirmed to be part of Tina’s North Face windbreaker. The edges were torn, possibly from a fall or from pushing through brush in panic.
Why an experienced hiker would deviate 2 miles toward impassable rock remained unexplained.
Investigators concluded the most likely scenario was an accident: disorientation from dehydration or heat stroke leading to a fatal fall into an inaccessible crevice.
By the end of October, drones and thermal imaging had scanned every accessible crack and cave. No further evidence appeared.
On November 1, 2014, the National Park Service ended the active search phase. Tina’s case was reclassified as a missing person investigation. Her name joined the long list of those lost in the canyon.
Her parents returned for months, standing at the rim and looking down into the red abyss.
No one knew that Tina’s story had not ended.
Exactly 5 years, 1 month, and 2 days later, on November 14, 2019, 3 amateur cavers—Mark Evans, Sarah Collins, and David Prey—entered a remote limestone system on the Horseshoe Mesa Plateau with official permission to map little-known karst cavities.
Around 2:00 p.m., gale-force winds up to 45 mph triggered a localized sandstorm. Visibility dropped to a few feet. Unable to continue across the plateau, they sought shelter along a rock face.
David Prey noticed a depression concealed by dry brush. Behind thorny branches was a narrow opening, approximately 2 feet wide, leading into the rock.
Inside, they entered a dry grotto roughly 10 by 12 feet. The air was musty, carrying the smell of mold and something sour.
As their headlamps cut through the darkness, Sarah Collins screamed.
In the far corner sat a woman, curled in a fetal position. At first, they mistook her for a pile of rags.
She was critically emaciated, weighing less than 85 pounds. Her skin was parchment-like and earthy in tone. Her hair was completely white, falling in tangled strands to her lower back. She did not blink in the beam of the flashlight. Her eyes seemed to look past them.
When they tried to speak to her, she rocked and made low, scraping throat sounds. It was not speech.
In the cave were signs of long habitation: a 5-gallon plastic canister with cloudy liquid residue, 3 rusted tin cans without labels, primitive bedding made from small animal skins and remnants of an old sleeping bag.
Evacuation took over 4 hours. At 5:40 p.m., a medical helicopter landed on the plateau. At 6:15 p.m., it reached Flagstaff Medical Center. The woman was admitted to intensive care.
She carried no identification. Police requested fingerprinting.
At 7:20 p.m., Officer Jason Miller scanned her prints.
The match returned 100%.
The woman found in the cave was Tina Medina.
She was 31 years old.
Medical examination revealed complete atrophy of her vocal cords from prolonged silence. She was physically unable to speak. Her lingual muscles had degraded.
X-rays showed multiple old fractures: 3 ribs on the left side and a complex crack in the right ankle. The bones had healed improperly, forming deformities. The injuries had likely occurred in 2014 without treatment.
During sanitization, nurses noticed deep ring-shaped scars around both wrists and ankles. The skin was rough and darkened.
They were consistent with prolonged restraint.
Tina had not survived alone in a cave.
Someone had kept her there.
Part 2
On November 15, 2019, authorities released a brief statement confirming that Tina Medina had been found alive and that an investigation was underway. The following day, a forensic team returned to the grotto.
The entrance had been barricaded from the inside with stones weighing over 50 pounds, stacked deliberately. Tina, in her condition, could not have moved them alone.
Under ultraviolet light, investigators discovered thousands of small notches carved into the limestone wall. They were grouped in sets of 7.
A calendar.
More than 1,800 marks.
Tina had counted each day.
Further examination of her scars confirmed long-term shackling with metal chain or coarse rope.
Forensic analysis of microparticles collected from her skin and clothing revealed high concentrations of malachite and azurite—minerals associated with copper deposits. These minerals were not present in the limestone cave where she was found.
The nearest copper deposits were located several miles east near Grand View Point, where copper mines had operated in the late 19th century.
The cave was not her prison. It was a final refuge.
Psychiatrist Dr. Emily Warren began art therapy sessions. Tina did not speak, but she eventually picked up a charcoal pencil.
She drew with precision learned from geology training.
The drawing showed a massive rock formation recognizable as Wotan’s Throne on the north side of the canyon. The perspective was from below, from blind zones beneath Horseshoe Mesa.
At the base, she depicted a dark opening—a mine entrance.
Beside it stood a human figure with elongated arms holding a rifle with a telescopic sight.
Next to the entrance was a rusted ore wagon on rails. On its side was a triangle logo with the letters L C inside.
Park historian Dr. Samuel Green confirmed the logo belonged to the Last Chance Mining Company, which had operated copper mines in the area before closure in 1977.
Tina’s drawing also included a concealed metal hut hidden beneath a rock ledge.
The location was more than 4 miles from the cave where she had been found.
Detective Mark Hall ordered an operation.
On February 12, 2020, at 5:00 a.m., a combined unit of SWAT, federal agents, and National Park Service rangers moved into the sector Tina had marked.
A thermal drone detected a heat anomaly: warm air venting from a narrow crevice 400 feet from the plateau’s edge.
Behind an artificial sandstone wall reinforced with epoxy was a steel door.
Inside was an engineered underground bunker integrated into the old mine system. Investigators referred to it as Object Zero.
The bunker contained LED lighting powered by batteries and solar panels. Shelves were stocked with hundreds of cans, freeze-dried food, gas cylinders, and equipment matching items reported stolen from hikers over several years.
On a workbench sat a cardboard box.
Inside were 12 driver’s licenses belonging to individuals reported missing in or around the canyon over the previous decade.
Three leather-bound notebooks lay nearby.
The diaries described “purification experiments.” The author referred to victims as subjects. Tina was Subject Number 4.
Entries detailed psychological pressure, restraint, and attempts to break personality. Subject Number 1 had died on the third day. Subject Number 3 had been “taken away.”
The final entry, dated a week before Tina’s rescue, read that she had broken the lock and escaped to upper levels. The author wrote that Object Zero had been compromised and that he would go deeper into the labyrinth.
The suspect was identified as Harlon Briggs, 52, former chief safety engineer at Last Chance Mining in the late 2000s. He had extensive knowledge of the mine network and had sold his home in 2011 before disappearing from public records.
On February 13, 2020, Briggs was located near Jacob Lake after attempting to avoid a checkpoint. A pursuit ended when his truck crashed into a tree. He fled on foot into the Kaibab Plateau.
After 6 hours in subzero conditions, SWAT teams cornered him on a rocky outcrop above a 3,000-foot drop.
He dropped his revolver and surrendered.
In his backpack was a survival kit, a star map, and a plastic bag containing a long white strand of hair tied with a pink ribbon.
DNA confirmed it belonged to Tina Medina.
Part 3
The trial of Harlon Briggs began on March 15, 2021, in Flagstaff District Court.
Prosecutor Elizabeth Stone presented the diaries and the recovered driver’s licenses. The entries described restraint, isolation, and the systematic breaking of victims.
Tina attended the trial in a wheelchair. She did not speak. Her written testimony, prepared over months of therapy, was read aloud.
She described that in early November 2019, Briggs became ill with a high fever. When he locked her chain, the mechanism did not click fully. He was too weak to check it.
After waiting hours, she freed herself.
She wandered through mine tunnels for nearly a week without food or light, following airflow. She drank from puddles and ate lichen. On the seventh day, she reached a grotto where she collapsed.
She also explained that her hair had turned white within the first 3 months of captivity in late 2014. She had heard search helicopters overhead and screamed until her voice broke. When the helicopters stopped coming, she believed she was dead to the world.
On May 25, 2021, Briggs was found guilty on all charges, including kidnapping, false imprisonment, and grievous bodily harm. He received 3 consecutive life sentences without parole and was sent to the high-security prison in Florence, Arizona.
After the trial, Tina moved with her parents to Sedona. Her vocal cords physically recovered, but she never resumed speaking.
She works remotely as a graphic designer. She communicates only through text.
In her paintings, there are landscapes: red rocks, tall pines, endless sky. There are no people.
Searches of the mine labyrinth did not recover the bodies of the 11 other missing individuals identified by their driver’s licenses.
The canyon continues to hold its secrets.
Sometimes it returns what it has taken.
It does not return them unchanged.















