Ring of Fire

by David Agranoff

  Austin looked through the haze down the road. She saw two other carts being pushed in the direction of the sports arena. A police car blocked the parking lot to Target and Home Depot. Austin put her mask back over her face and rode toward the car. When she arrived at it she saw quickly it was being used as a road block. No one was in the car.

  “Hello?”

  Traffic on the road started to move. Austin got off her bike and laid it down a few feet from the car. The radio on the inside of the car was buzzing and going crazy. Austin couldn’t quite make out the sounds. It sounded like yelling.

  “Pull back! All downtown units pull back!”

  Austin stepped back from the empty car. The cars pulled over as far as they could on the main road. Austin’s jaw dropped as dozen green military Humvees drove past her. She stepped closer to the road. They were headed east toward downtown.

  Austin stepped back toward the cop car. She stood by the door and thought about trying to open it. Getting on that radio might be the only way to save Betty’s life. She jiggled the handle, but the car was locked.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  Austin turned to see the cop walking toward her. She was taught to distrust and fear cops from the time she learned to talk. The smoke swirled around him. He had a baton out and a paper mask on his face that she could barely see. Austin put her hands up. She was a homeless punk rocker wearing a gas mask. She was surprised he didn’t already shoot.

  “Sorry, man, I was just looking for help.”

  He pointed to the Sports Arena with his baton. “Shelter is that way.”

  He stepped closer and Austin gasped in her mask. He was a middle aged white guy. His hair was disheveled, his face marked up with what looked like four scratches going down his face. She looked to his holster, it was empty. His Taser, which SDPD had to carry, was also missing from his belt.

  “What happened to you?” Austin spoke in the distorted voice the mask produced.

  The cop pointed in the direction of the shelter. “Just go.”

  “I tried calling 911, there is a lady named Betty who is dying down by the river. She was not healthy enough to move herself. . .”

  “You need to get off the streets, young lady. The mayor is about to declare a state of emergency.”

  Austin lifted the mask off her face. She wiped some of the sweat free. “This woman is gonna die, she doesn’t have any mask.”

  The cop opened the door to his car, used it to push Austin back. In the silence she heard screaming over his radio.

  “We’re a little busy now. Get to the shelter.”

  Austin stood there dumbfounded for a moment, as the cop drove away leaving her and her bike in the middle of the road. Traffic was moving again. A part of her debated what to do. No one was going to help Betty. She wasn’t sure why she had wanted to help Betty herself. The smoke filled the air and the people were starting to panic.

  “You’re going to have to think about yourself at some point.” She coughed. Breathing in the ash filled air, she pulled the mask back down and headed toward the shelter.

  ***

  “Inside now!”

  Ms. James held the door open for the members of her class. Damian ran with the group of kids out into the halls. They were all frustrated because outside recess was canceled. Ms. James set-up art projects, but they were boring. She finally let kids play with iPads and videogames.

  “Back to class!”

  Damian looked at his Spiderman watch. Ms. James didn’t look like she wanted to argue. Mommy sometimes got that look on her face. Wait till your father gets home, but when he did the sports segment of the eleven o’ clock news was on. So, often he got out of it.

  He skipped back into the classroom and saw the other kids gathering their backpacks.

  Scotty one of his best friends in the class offered him a fist bump.

  “School’s canceled.”

  “No way! Awesome!”

  Damian ran to his backpack and grabbed it.

  “Alright, class, we are going to be waiting in the cafeteria, gather your materials.”

  Damian looked up at the TV that hung on the wall above the teacher’s desk. Daddy’s station was on. He didn’t know the mayor’s name, but he knew that was who it was on the TV. Mom and Dad voted for him and the whole family went to a fancy party by the ocean before he became mayor.

  The students still needing backpacks lined up one by one and walked toward the door.

  ***

  “. . . as the air quality continues to degrade we cannot ensure the safety of our citizens. Not only are we closing the schools, but we are declaring a state of emergency. Traffic outside of your homes and all stores and restaurants are suspended until further notice.”

  The mayor paused. Martin felt the speech was too short. The mayor put up his finger to signal that he wasn’t done.

  “We are trying to handle the environmental hazards related to this massive fire. Considering our cities network of open air reservoirs, we are issuing a water boil order. Do not, I repeat, do not use water even boiled water for cooking, or drinking. Furthermore we are suggesting you use bottled water. If you do not have bottle water, we are working with the National Guard to make them available. ”

  The mayor paused. Martin cringed, knowing the small gathering of reporters were ready to pounce.

  “Mr. Mayor!” All six reporters raised their hands and demanded attention. On a normal day all thirty seats in the conference center would be filled. Many of the news stations were headquartered north of the 8. With traffic the way it was, the majority of the reporters here were the union-tribune newspaper and NBC who were downtown, a news website and one young reporter from the local CBS station.

  Heather Mills from CBS was a beautiful African-American reporter fresh out of graduate school. The mayor would pick her first.

  “Heather.” He smiled at her.

  “Mr. Mayor, we are getting reports of violence, looting and riots around the city. Is this the reason for military checkpoints?”

  “Great question, Heather, as always. We asked the military to assist us with the state of emergency. Certainly, we are monitoring the reports of looting. We as San Diegans have got to come to together. The National Guard will be distributing water street by street, block by block. Please stay in your homes for your safety.”

  “Mister Mayor! Kevin Reed – Voice of San Diego.”

  Martin gave the mayor a look. He didn’t want him to call on Reed, who had written several pieces on the mayor that were less than friendly.

  “Mister Mayor, what can you tell us about the gunfire downtown? It sounds like Baghdad.”

  Martin watched the mayor squeeze the podium. Martin felt panic.

  “We are working on getting Chief Gibbons up here to give you an update.”

  It was clear that the mayor was throwing the bus on the police chief and leaving it at that as the small group of reporters shouted over each other. The mayor waved. Martin grabbed his arm and pushed away from the podium to the green room stage left. When the door closed behind them they could still hear the reporters yelling.

  “What a clusterfuck!” The mayor walked toward the elevator that would take him back to his office. Martin followed beside him. “Why can’t we just shut off the water?”

  Martin had discussed it with FEMA. They couldn’t lose the water pressure, but it was not as easy to shut the water down. There was no master switch.

  “We can’t or we’ll lose the ability to fight the fire.”

  The mayor punched the up button on the wall. Only one of the elevators was working, the building was built in the sixties and it was nearly impossible to replace the elevators. The four on the west side of the building were in the process of being replaced and three on the east side were not safe. The one working elevator was stopped on the fifth floor. If they waited, the media would be waiting with him. The front door to the media center opened.

  “Shit.” The mayor ripped open the stairwell door
. He and Martin walked the three floors in silence. The mayor stopped with his hand on the door.

  “Mister Mayor?”

  The mayor looked at him, and Martin could see it. Real fear in the man’s eyes. He was a man used to control. A natural born leader who hated not having answers. Martin put his hand on his boss’s shoulder.

  “We give it our best, Mister Mayor.”

  The Mayor grunted. “Give me a break, Martin.” He opened the door to their floor. “We’re fucked.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Mayor is done. We need to get back on the air.”

  Jake was still holding his dick at the urinal when Will opened the door. The radio host stood in the doorway as Jake zipped up and flushed.

  “I have to get to the station.”

  “Come on, buddy. You’re a sports reporter, you’re needed here.”

  Jake moved to the sink and only looked at Will in the mirror.

  “Will, my world revolves around my job, not yours.”

  Jake tapped the faucet and the water came on. He reached up to get soap when he smelled it. A foul stench came from the sink. He couldn’t put his hands under the water. Jake stood there wondering what he should do. He had gotten the text alert on his phone about the water boil but forgot as soon as his bathroom routine brought him to the sink.

  “I know we are not exactly a charity but we are providing a service today a much, needed distraction.” Will stepped into the bathroom and invaded Jake’s space. “What is wrong with you? Think of your career. The station does better when you grow your Twitter followers and you build your audience. . .”

  Jake turned and looked at Will. He stopped talking as their eyes locked. He could have told him he had a bigger audience on TV, his listeners were just more interactive. None of that occurred to him as the weight and stress of the news he got, and tried to ignore, pushed itself to the surface. Jake couldn’t hold in the anger and tears. He knew his eyes were welling.

  “What is wrong with you, Jake? You were looking off into space half the show. You weren’t laughing when you’re supposed to.”

  Jake tapped a fist on the counter. “Will, the goddamn city is on fire.”

  Will shook his head. “Something else is happening.”

  Jake felt the wall he had built up around his heart crumbling. He thought about Vic and the kids, knowing that he would have to tell them soon enough. He wanted to scream it at Will, just to shut him up. He kept his voice calm.

  “I have cancer. Intestinal. Very hard to treat. I just found out.”

  Will’s eyes got wide. The asshole shield Will put around himself as a part of his radio persona melted away. Jake could tell the man was speechless. Jake felt a wave of sorrow and his feelings bubbled up to the surface.

  “When did you find out?”

  Jake looked away from Will. He spoke just above a whisper.

  “This morning.”

  Will shook his head. “Why didn’t you say something? You should be home with Victoria, not yucking it up with me.”

  “I can’t tell Vicky. Both her parents died slowly, it almost killed her. She was a wreck. As soon as one died, the other just . . . I can’t do it. I can’t do it to her.”

  Will put his arm on Jake’s shoulder. “I’m such an asshole.”

  Jake tried to dry his tears. “Yeah, you are.”

  They both laughed. Jake only for a moment, the pain in his heart was too great. Alex walked the hallway yelling about getting back on the air.

  “Will, air time! Goddamn it!”

  Will pointed in the direction of the studio. “I gotta finish the show. You go home. Fuck the station, man. Tell Victoria. You think she doesn’t want to know, but I promise you buddy, she does.”

  Jake wiped away the tears. “Not yet, I gotta work when this fire clears up.”

  “Fuck them. You do what is best for you.”

  Will turned and ran out the door. Jake looked in the mirror, his eyes puffy from tears. He didn’t care about that. He saw a man who made his living off his body. It failed him again. First the ACL that hurt his draft stock. That was okay. Victoria never wanted him in the NFL for long. Now cancer. How could his body betray him like this?

  Jake’s eyes went to the sink. He looked at the faucet. He rubbed his hands on his pants.

  ***

  “Fall back! Fall Back! Safety zone, now!”

  The voice was Annie in his radio. Scott stepped over the hose held by two local fire fighters. The line of flames was moving up a canyon towards a three bedroom house. Scott heard the order, but they could see parts of the fire smolder under the onslaught of water they were pumping.

  “I’m not going to make it!” Scott yelled.

  The fire and the fight was a total blur. Scott didn’t think at this point in the fight. He just listened to Annie. This many hours into a fight he was dehydrated, Chugging warm water, his balls and ass were chaffed, he had sweat so much he might as well have been swimming. The blisters on his feet were so bad his feet had gone numb. He was beyond tired and operating on pure adrenaline. Early in the operation he hated hearing her voice. Now he felt like she was an angel on his shoulder.

  He was as surprised as anyone that he was refusing her order, but they could save this house. The fire crawled up the hill, as if it was disagreeing with him. Scott ran the edge of the ridge breaking up the dirt. Behind him, Henderson used a shovel to the dirt down the hill. A huge swath of the fire line disappeared but not all of it. The flames cut through the spray and exploded on the bush.

  The sound of the burning bush snapped, crackled and popped so loud he missed the sound of the traffic helicopter hovering above. Scott caught it in the corner of his eye. It was high above the smoke, but with a zoom they were on live local news for sure. The viewers at home would be watching as the flames danced on to the house they were failing to save.

  More importantly Annie was watching. If she ordered a retreat they were losing. He knew he should listen but he was actually feeling rage towards the fire. The homes and lives it was about to destroy filled him with desperation.

  The flames were jumping and popping, it was moving quickly, like a wave coming off the ocean that suddenly swelled. The fire was coming to swallow him. Scott reached back to pull out his shelter. He held his water and radio after he ditched his pack. In one motion the aluminum tent popped open. He pulled it over his body. He felt the heat of the flames overtake his spot and knew air would be tight. He dug with his left hand and he pushed his face in the small hole getting as close to the ground as possible. He understood for that moment what it felt like to be the thanksgiving turkey. He wanted to scream feeling his skin heat up.

  There is nothing to do in the deployment zone, but pitch your shelter and wait. Some have lived and some have cooked to a crisp. All he could do was wait. Scott whispered prayer after prayer. Time passed but he could not guess how long.

  The shelter popped opened. Scott reached for it afraid wind had caught it. It fell away as Scott looked up to Riccardi. His old friend had his arm. He had cleared a small path through the flames. He didn’t need to be told what to do. Scott broke into a run even as his friend pushed him. The local fighters were running a position across the street. They had a crew spraying water on the line.

  “Off the line, Rivers! You’re done.”

  Scott ran as hard as he could. The oxygen tank on his back felt like two hundred pounds. Annie didn’t trust him to stay cool. His whole team was pulling back. In the distance, he saw Henderson and Cole getting in transport vehicles.

  “Rivers back to base camp now.”

  Scott finally turned around when they were on the second street of the neighborhood they were trying to save. It was a sprawl development. The houses all looked like two level copies. He listened to his breath in the gas mask. It was still afternoon, but this close to the fire it might as well been midnight.

  A Humvee pulled up. A squad of soldiers got out. They were in standard infantry uniform with the addition of gas
masks. They ran through the neighborhood with their rifles high.

  Riccardi grabbed his arm again and lifted Scott into the vehicle. He and Scott both took off their masks once in the Humvee. Riccardi stepped up to the front cab.

  “Base camp, please. We have orders.”

  Scott closed his eyes as they drove, feeling the massive sweat on every inch of his body. He shook unable to process what just happened to him.

  “We had a chance.”

  Riccardi shook his head. “I just dragged you out of a fucking deployment zone!”

  “They pulled us out too soon.” Scott struggled to catch his breath. “They keep fucking doing that.”

  “We’re losing big time.” Riccardi looked out the window. “We need to re-group.”

  Scott pulled off his helmet before Annie could give him the same lecture.

  ***

  Robbins waited for the bus for twenty minutes. The traffic on the roads became gridlocked. He decided to walk and got a chuckle as he moved faster beside them on the sidewalk. He saw a line of cars backed up towards a local middle school. The people lucky enough to not have to wait for children were able to pull over to side streets. The school buses were loading slowly at the school. Many of the kids had their shirts up over their noses as they waited in line to board.

  He had miles to walk before downtown. He stayed on the bus path in case the city bus came but it never did. Wearing sunglasses and his paper mask, he walked the long distance as the ash collected on his Padres hat and shoulders. He stopped paying attention to the traffic. He might have noticed it slowing down but his mind was thinking globally.

  The reservoir had always been polluted, but how could he explain to the police why he was there. It could have been a murder he saw. He had been reporting murders his whole life and no one listened. The murdered ecosystem was finally proving him right. He had devoted much of his life to pointing out the signs. The earth was dying, the tipping point was coming.

  Temperatures rose, the air was dirty, the water was dirty and what happens when you destroy the foundations of life? Disease had become commonplace, obesity. Excess and consumerism had added fuel to the fire for years.