Facing The Fire

by Barrett, Gail

Could they try again? He turned slightly to look up the mountain, and she studied the hard planes of his face. She loved him; she realized that now. She had never stopped.

  But even if he forgave her, could she tolerate his lifestyle? Could she cope with him always being gone? Or would they only argue again?

  Because she sure couldn’t change who he was.

  Anxiety churned through her chest, along with a deep sense of doom. Oh, God. She couldn’t think about it. Not now. She hissed in a shaky breath.

  Ahead of her, Cade paused and consulted his compass, then angled higher uphill. The trees were sparser now, with dry brush and grass covering the exposed slope. And it seemed quieter suddenly, more still. Or maybe the blood surging in her ears drowned the noises out.

  Suddenly, Dusty stopped again. Shaken from her reflections, Jordan stumbled, staggered to regain her balance, and jerked on the leash. But this time, the dog wouldn’t follow. Instead, he turned and tried to run downhill.

  “Stop!” Gasping against the pain lashing her ankle, she planted her feet and leaned back. He lunged, and she widened her stance. “Stop!” she cried again. She wasn’t losing him this time. She gritted her teeth and hung on.

  “What’s the matter?” Cade called back.

  “I don’t know.” Dusty looked frantic now, thrashing and twisting to get free. “He’s trying to go back downhill.”

  “Oh, hell. Stay here.”

  “What?” Still fighting for control of the leash, she swiveled to look at Cade. He sprinted ahead and disappeared, and a sudden fear lashed her heart. He wasn’t abandoning her. Cade would never do that. She couldn’t imagine him running away.

  But then, where was he going? What was wrong? She turned her gaze back to the dog.

  Behind her, a wind sprang up, ruffling her neck and standing her hair on edge. A sound rose from around the mountain, a muffled rumbling, like the distant sound of a train. It grew louder, closer. Every nerve in her body tensed.

  And suddenly, she understood. The fire. Oh, God. She gaped at the wild-eyed dog, his behavior now making sense. The fire had caught them. They weren’t going to reach that clearing. They were trapped!

  Her knees trembled violently. Panic surged, and a loud throbbing pulsed in her head like an earthquake rocking her brain. She dithered, shuffling back and forth, her muscles stalled, not knowing which way to go. Raw fear clawed at her throat.

  And then Cade came sprinting back, his legs pumping wildly, his face more intense than she’d ever seen. He skidded to a stop beside her, swung the bags to the ground and dropped to one knee.

  “We have to burn an escape route,” he shouted. He threw back the flap on his PG bag and yanked out some long red sticks.

  The roar behind them grew louder, thundering through her skull, and the air around them started to shake. Her brain blanked, and she panted, unable to breathe. Her nerves zapped her muscles like the strings on a marionette.

  “Help me light the fusees,” Cade shouted again. “We have to burn off the grass.”

  A huge, black ball of smoke roiled through the trees and Dusty pawed to get free. The ground shuddered. Pines swayed. And a huge rush drummed through the air.

  “Pull off the tabs and strike them.” Cade held out the foot-long sticks.

  She gawked at him, part of her brain noting his desperation. He couldn’t manage with just one hand.

  But she needed to run. Flee! Panic gripped her throat. Frenzied, she jerked her gaze to the slope above her. She had to climb up there and get away.

  “We can’t outrun it,” he shouted. “It’s too fast. You have to—”

  Thunder shook the air, drowning out what he wanted to say. She looked at him again, her breath puffing in frantic gasps, her mind completely blank.

  His mouth was moving. His eyes beseeched her. He was pleading with her, begging her, but she couldn’t hear him, even from two feet away.

  Then the fire burst through the trees and she screamed. It was here! Sucking and burning, boiling and streaming, billowing and swirling their way.

  Oh, God. She had to run. She needed to leave, escape!

  No! Her conscience stalled her. She had to stay and help Cade.

  She pulled her gaze to his and saw his urgency, his need. He needed her. He always had.

  She let out a strangled sob. And no matter what, she couldn’t leave him. She’d abandoned him once before; she’d run away when her fears had swamped her, and she wouldn’t do it again.

  God help her, but no matter what the cost, she wouldn’t quit on him this time.

  Shaking wildly, fighting every instinct she had to bolt, she forced her feet not to move.

  Her palms sweating, her heart quaking, she snagged the leash on her belt loop to keep the dog close, and somehow secured the buckle.

  Then she lifted her gaze to Cade’s. She saw emotions flash through his eyes, relief and respect, and something else. Pride. For her. Her heart dipped, then ballooned in her chest.

  Her gaze locked on his, she reached out and grabbed a fusee.

  Chapter 13

  Her heart careening against her rib cage, her hands trembling harder than a leaf in a windstorm, Jordan ripped the tab off the fusee and yanked her gaze back to Cade. “What now?” she yelled.

  She knew he couldn’t hear her. Behind them, the fire thundered like a screeching jet plane. But he jerked his head, indicating he’d understood. Moving quickly, he set down his flarelike fusees, grabbed one of the sticks he’d collected, then jammed it into the bottom of the fusee she held.

  Understanding now, she helped cram the stick tighter into the flare. The stick extended the length of the fusee, serving as a primitive handle.

  Her admiration surged. No wonder Cade had collected the sticks. He’d been preparing for this moment, watching for signs that the fire would blow up, planning ways they could survive.

  Gratitude slashed through her fear, along with a swell of determination. Cade had done everything for her. Now she had to do her part. She couldn’t let him down.

  The wind pushed smoke over their heads again. She coughed, the acrid taste scorching her lungs, and shot a frantic glance toward the crest of the hill. Thick, dark clouds mushroomed up from the fire and billowed toward them. Bright orange flames whipped high and flicked through the rolling smoke.

  Her skin prickling, her heart quailing, she blocked out the horror and focused on Cade. He grabbed the tab from her hand and peeled back the paper, then struck it against the fusee. It sparked, made a hissing sound she sensed, rather than heard above the oncoming roar, and spewed out sulfury smoke.

  He dropped the tab, grabbed the fusee, and held it down to the grass. The parched grass smoked, then flared, sending a vivid orange flame streaking uphill.

  And suddenly, she understood. The main fire wouldn’t go through an area that had already burned. Deprived of new fuel, it would have to skirt around it. So if they burned off the grass and got inside it before the flame front reached them, maybe they could survive.

  But did they have enough time? Her heart rocketing, she glanced at the fire again. The front charged toward them, streaming up through the parched pines, surging and pulsing, and exploding in piercing orange flames. Her nerves quaked, and she panted in shallow breaths. Oh, God. It was so fast, so big. How on earth could they beat it?

  But they had to try. Frantic now, she kicked herself into action. She snatched another fusee from Cade’s pile, rammed a stick extension in it, pulled off the tab, and lit it. She spared another glance at the booming fire, shuddered, then grabbed the remaining fusees and ran after Cade.

  She waved her arm to get his attention, and he motioned to his right. Jerking the leash to keep the dog moving, she rushed along and lit the baked grass. Her nerves hopping, steeling herself against the fear that threatened to freeze her, she tried to block out the horrible roar and concentrate on her job. Fanned by the wind, their small fire raced up the grassy slope, surrounding them in a sea of flames.

  Beside her, the
dog twisted and charged in terror, twining around her legs and blocking her path. She grabbed the leash and yanked him out of her way. She didn’t dare cut him loose; he could never outrun the fire. His only chance to survive was to stay with them.

  Her panic building, struggling to control the dog and set the fire, she staggered alongside Cade. The strong sulfur smell of the fusees mixed with the acrid smoke, making her want to retch. She coughed and gagged, then blinked her stinging eyes. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

  The fire boomed, and the thundering behind her grew harsher. A sob wedged in her throat, and she lurched faster, desperate to pick up her pace.

  Cade sprinted back just then, his eyes fierce. Moisture streaked down his gaunt cheeks, cutting a path through the grime. He pried his spent fusee off the stick with his boot, and reached for hers.

  She traded with him, grabbing his empty stick in return. While he darted back to burn more grass, she lit another flare.

  Suddenly, a huge swooshing noise pulsed behind her, and, terrified, she swiveled back. A wall of flames raced toward them, twisting high into shocking funnels. Flying embers flashed through the billowing smoke. The fire shot from the trees and exploded into the air.

  Then firebrands rained around them, sparking more grass. Trembling wildly, unsure what to do, she wrenched her gaze back to Cade. She felt paralyzed, frantic, torn in a thousand directions. She had to move, get away from the fire, but she didn’t know where to go.

  Cade turned toward her and yelled something, then motioned urgently with his arm. Understanding slashed through her hysteria. He wanted her to go up.

  Terrified, praying to God that they could escape, she lunged forward and followed Cade across the charred grass. But then the dog abruptly stopped, and Jordan fell to her knees. She landed hard, singeing her palms and knees on the smoldering grass, and immediately surged to her feet. She jerked hard on the leash, but Dusty refused to budge.

  Panicked, she yanked on the leash again, but the dog only hunkered down. A frenzy rose inside her. They had to run. The fire was nearly here!

  A blast of hot wind swirled smoke from the blackened grass and into her face. Fueled by fear and adrenaline, every nerve in her body screaming to flee, she tossed aside her fusee, hoisted the quivering dog to her hip and darted after Cade.

  A thought skittered through her brain, warning her that she should feel pain in her ankle and heat from the flames, but the terror jolting her mind blocked it out. She had to run. Run! Her heart pumping madly, her chest heaving, she sawed in air and sprinted uphill.

  Cade charged ahead of her, stooping to torch the dry grass. A hot wind blasted their backs, and their little fire picked up speed, racing up the steep slope. Her vision blurring, her chest searing, Jordan chased the bright line of flames.

  Suddenly Cade tossed aside his spent fusee and turned back. Their eyes met, and for an instant, his vivid blue gaze held hers. She saw his fierce concentration, his focus on the job. Gratitude swept through her, along with the sharp urge to cry. God, this man was brave.

  Then a pounding, swooshing sound rose, and Cade’s eyes flicked to the fire behind them. Her nerves jerking in disjointed spasms, Jordan stopped and turned toward the noise. Before she could look, Cade grabbed her arm and yanked her back into motion.

  She stumbled, trying desperately to keep her balance while lugging the dog, and somehow pulled herself upright. Then she bolted straight up the mountain with Cade, pursuing the fire they’d set. She hauled scorched air into her lungs, breathing in ragged gasps, her throat and raw chest rasping.

  Heat blasted her back, and the fierce roar pounded her skull. She tripped over rocks and uneven ground, over charred and smoking stumps. She pushed herself faster, harder, urgency fueling her steps. Embers flew past, the smoke swirled thicker and her horror grew.

  They weren’t going to make it. They couldn’t possibly get away.

  But they had to. She clutched the shaking dog, frantic not to drop him. He needed her to go on!

  She kept sprinting, her feet pounding, but she could feel her exhaustion mount. She focused on Cade’s strong hand gripping her arm, but still the doubts slithered in. Oh, God. She’d never make it. She was far too weak.

  She would fail him, just as she had in the past.

  And then a strange calm overtook her, and she felt detached, distant from her body. Smoke blurred her vision, darkening the landscape and cutting out light. The world looked surreal, bathed in a hot gray haze, bizarre.

  They bounded down a slight incline, then hurdled a burning log. The fire was everywhere now, roaring and hissing beside them, the heat unbearably intense.

  She ran on and on. Sprinting, climbing, leaping. And she was growing confused. She was running with Cade, clutching the dog, urgency hammering her brain, but she couldn’t remember where they were or why they were racing. She only knew that she couldn’t stop.

  Suddenly, Cade jerked her hard to the right. She stumbled, nearly dropping the dog, and staggered to a stop. Cade pulled her toward him, and she lurched closer, staring blankly at a mound of boulders.

  The air trembled, blurring her vision, and the ground beneath her rumbled and shook. She swiveled back and cringed at the fire raging toward them. Flames twisted and arced through the trees, whirling like gaseous tornadoes. A ball of flame launched itself into the air.

  Cade yanked her around and pushed her toward the boulder. She saw a slit between the rocks, barely enough to squeeze through, and understanding flashed. Holding the dog close, she wriggled through the crack into a dim, musty space. Cade immediately crammed himself in behind her.

  They were in a small cave, maybe a dozen feet deep and wide and barely high enough to stand in. The packed-dirt floor was littered with stones.

  “We need to block the opening,” Cade said, dropping the bags.

  Jordan set down the dog, then tripped when he slammed against her. Hysteria plucked at her nerves. She couldn’t help Cade if she kept stumbling over the leash. And Cade needed her help to survive.

  Which meant she had to let Dusty go.

  Her hands trembling, she unhooked the leash from her belt, then wedged it beneath a large rock. The dog immediately tried to pull free.

  “Stay,” she said sharply and stepped away. She could only pray the leash held. She didn’t have time to hold him, and she couldn’t help him if he darted outside.

  Her throat thick with dread and panic, she set to work, frantically lugging rocks over to block the entrance. She dashed back and forth, piling the stones quickly, haphazardly, rushing to stop the smoke creeping through the cracks. Outside, the deadly roars and thundering grew.

  Behind her, Cade pulled something from his PG bag. Silver flashed in the fading light as he shook it out.

  His fire shelter. The last line of defense. The final chance to survive.

  He held out the metallic fabric. “Here. Put this between the rocks.”

  “No.” She backed off. He needed that tent. He could survive inside it without her. And she’d hindered him enough.

  “Jordan—”

  “It’s yours. You use it.”

  “The hell I will.” His voice bristled with outrage. “Either stuff it between those rocks or I’ll flatten it over you.”

  He’d do it. She could see the obstinate will in his eyes, that single-minded resolve, and knew it was futile to argue. Unless she agreed to share the shelter, he’d sacrifice his own life protecting hers.

  And she refused to let him do that.

  Resigned, she grabbed the lightweight fabric and smoothed it over the rocks. Her heart beat erratically as she scooped up loose stones and stuffed them in the cracks to secure the edges. The light dimmed as she blocked up as many spaces as she could. Cade added several heavier stones so the shelter wouldn’t blow off.

  After a moment, he stopped her. “That’s good enough. We need to get back.”

  She blinked in the shadowy darkness. Light still filtered through some gaps in the rocks, but she knew they
’d run out of time. Outside, the deafening noise mounted, screaming and screeching like colliding trains. Shaking, so scared she thought she might vomit, she covered her ears and cringed.

  Cade grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the back of the cave. “Wait,” she cried. “The dog.” She stooped down to jerk the leash loose, and dragged him to the far wall.

  Cade urged her down to the ground, then positioned himself beside her, wedging her between him and the musty dirt wall. She hauled Dusty into her lap and held him close. Quivering madly, shuddering with terror, she curled herself into a ball.

  She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think as the heat mounted and a throbbing blast pulsed outside. She closed her eyes, and Cade pulled her head to his chest, covering her with his body.

  This was it. The moment of truth.

  She could only thank God Cade was with her, and pray that they would survive.

  Chapter 14

  Cade sheltered Jordan with his body as the firestorm raged around them. Heat scorched his back. His pulse rocketed through his veins. The hairs on his nape stood erect and tensed in the rising storm.

  The air around them quivered, and a bone-rattling screech shook the cave. The earth trembled, the skies shrieked as the molten gasses collided. Vibrations blurred the hot air.

  His lungs seized up and his heart stalled. Sweat popped from his pores, and he gagged down his acrid fear. This was it, the moment when they’d see if the shelter held, if they’d burned enough grass to protect the cave.

  To find out if they would survive.

  Time hung still. An eternity pulsed in a second. He clutched Jordan and shut his eyes, every nerve focused on the explosions blasting the cave.

  And then miraculously, incredibly, the deadly noise shifted away.

  He slumped in acute relief, then tipped back his head and exhaled. His heart battered against his chest, and his muscles began to twitch.

  And for the first time, he let the reality sink in of just how close that had been. They’d nearly died.

  He’d seen the training videos, attended classes on fire entrapments, but nothing had prepared him for the reality of it happening to him. The absolute panic, the disbelief, the horror when the fire blew close. And that gut-shaking terror when he’d realized they might not survive.