She’d just taken her first tentative step into the lake when, incredibly, Buttons came running down the same path that had led Emily to the lake. Somehow the poodle had managed to escape the inferno and find her. Perhaps it had heard her screaming after the SUV. Shaking and whining, looking like it was about to suffer a heart attack, it crouched at Emily’s feet.
“This is all your fault!” raged Emily.
Buttons whimpered pathetically and cowered.
“What am I supposed to do with you?”
The girl and dog suddenly found themselves in the middle of another spark storm.
The wind was pushing the fire steadily closer. In a matter of seconds the heat became too intense to tolerate. Emily glanced over her shoulder and saw a cloud of ash coming straight toward her. She turned, felt hot air envelop her body, and staggered into the shallows. Buttons followed, determined to stay close to the only human in sight. The poodle had short legs and only managed to take a few steps into the water before he had to start swimming. Emily had risked her life back at the campground to save the dog and felt she couldn’t leave the helpless animal behind now. She picked up Buttons and tossed the tiny, shaking body into the cooler. Then she snapped the lid shut and walked into deeper water.
The bottom was mushy. Emily felt a sharp jab at the bottom of her right heel, causing her to yelp. Limping slightly, she kept going until the water was nearly up to her waist. Then she fell forward and felt the blessed chill of the water.
Five
The cooler floated well, even with Buttons inside. The poodle reacted violently to being imprisoned in a dark, airless box and scratched incessantly at the plastic sides. Holding onto the cooler with her right hand, and with the oar and log tucked under her left arm, Emily was able to keep her head above water. Fear surged through her body, giving her renewed strength. Furious kicking propelled her steadily away from shore and toward what she hoped was safety.
After several minutes, winded from her exertions and needing to catch her breath, she turned her head toward the boat launch to see how close the flames were. An ember immediately flew into her left eye. She shrieked and ducked her face into the lake to put it out. It was a painful lesson. She wasn’t out of range of the fire just yet.
Emily started kicking again and quickly realized she was in serious trouble. The heavy hiking boots hanging from her neck had filled with water and the laces had twisted together. They were pulling her head under the surface and slowly strangling her at the same time. Reluctantly she let go of the cooler and used her free hand to untie the laces. The boots sank to the bottom.
The cooler floated high in the water, and it was caught by the wind once Emily released it. Although the oar and log provided some buoyancy, they probably weren’t enough to get her safely to the far shore. She kicked furiously, knowing she had to reach the cooler while she still had the time and strength. Several times she was almost able to touch it when another gust of wind propelled it out of reach.
When she was finally able to grab one of the cooler’s handles Emily was gasping for air. Her own shortness of breath reminded her that the poodle had a very limited supply of air inside the cooler. Buttons had suddenly gone quiet. Emily realized he would soon suffocate, if he hadn’t already.
By tucking the oar under one armpit and the log under the other, Emily struggled to get stable enough in the water to unlock the lid. She finally succeeded, opened the cover a crack and was rewarded with a feeble bark. Buttons was still alive. He moaned pathetically. With the poodle’s air supply replenished she closed the lid and resumed kicking. It wasn’t long before sheer exhaustion forced her to stop. Luckily the strong winds helped push the cooler, with her hanging on for dear life. The visibility was getting steadily worse. As the smoke got thicker it became increasingly challenging for Emily to tell if she was even going in the right direction.
Fatigue made it hard for Emily to hold onto the handle. She stopped her awkward dog-paddle for a moment, opened her mouth to take in a lungful of air, and accidentally swallowed water. Coughing, she almost lost her grip on the cooler. Then she saw something that immediately raised her spirits. Salvation was finally in reach.
Emily realized she’d almost made it across the lake. The welcoming shoreline was untouched by fire. Through the haze she could see it was reassuringly green. She saw two cabins standing only a short distance apart. One was small and tucked into the trees. The other was much larger and had a detached boathouse. Emily decided to aim for the boathouse, which was almost dead ahead.
The small log she’d been using as a flotation device was partly rotten. The strain of holding up her body was too much for it. The top third of the log broke off and the remaining section wasn’t big enough to help keep her head above water. She let go of the remaining chunk of wood.
It suddenly dawned on Emily that it had been some time since she’d last heard any noise from inside the cooler. Once again she was consumed with guilt at the thought of accidentally letting the dog suffocate. Worn out, she struggled with the lid’s locking device, taking longer than usual to open it.
Up until then the poodle had cowered at the bottom of the cooler every time the lid opened a crack. That time, the moment he saw some daylight, Buttons moved to break free from his dark and airless prison.
His leap overturned the cooler and knocked the lid out of Emily’s hands. While the dog thrashed wildly in the water Emily reached for the cooler. Too late. The wind had caught it. Frantic, she managed to grab the lid. If she held the oar in one hand and the lid in the other it might be enough to keep her afloat for another few minutes.
Buttons swam around her in a circle, making a pitiful gasping noise. The lid was wide and flat and didn’t easily fit under an arm. As she struggled with it Emily realized it wasn’t much smaller than some of the boogie boards she’d seen little kids use at the beach. It might even be made out of a similar material. She didn’t have the strength to pull herself onto the lid with just one hand so she let go of the oar. The lid wasn’t big and buoyant enough to keep her whole body afloat, but it was enough to keep head and shoulders out of the water.
Emily felt sharp claws digging into her back and tearing open her shirt and skin. Buttons had managed to climb onto her shoulders. Although he was a small dog it was enough extra weight to force her face into the water. Emily twisted her body and felt the dog let go.
Buttons reluctantly swam away from Emily. At first he set an erratic course. Then, perhaps smelling the nearby forest, he headed straight toward land.
An enormous head suddenly appeared out of the smoky fog, just to Emily’s right. She stared in disbelief, too shocked to move. An ugly face, with huge nostrils and wide eyes, was almost close enough to touch. It was also moving toward shore. The creature saw Emily and grunted menacingly. They were on converging paths and if Emily hadn’t stopped kicking they would have collided. Already in a state of panic her brain simply froze. She had no idea what was happening or what she was looking at.
The massive head cut cleanly through the water. A smaller animal followed in its wake. Emily finally understood that she’d nearly run into a cow moose and her calf. The moose were powerful swimmers and quickly reached the shore. They climbed onto dry land, just a few metres from where Buttons had landed. The dog, perhaps awed by the size of the moose, didn’t move or make a peep. The cow and calf didn’t stop. They raced toward the forest and disappeared from view.
With the last of her strength Emily managed to once again pull herself onto the cooler lid. It wasn’t big enough to keep her afloat unless she kept kicking, and her strength was nearly gone. Then came the instantly recognizable sound of a dog shaking the water out of its fur.
Emily raised her head and saw the poodle waiting for her on a pebble beach. If a puny mutt could make it, so could she. She closed her eyes, held tightly to the lid, and kicked until her feet touched bottom. Emily stood up. She was in front of the boathouse, in chest-deep water. Overcome with relief and exhaustion she c
rawled up a wooden ramp and vomited.
Six
After wiping the puke from her mouth Emily rose unsteadily to her feet. “Hello!” she called. “Is anyone here?”
There was no response. Buttons watched her from the beach, breathing heavily.
The boathouse was large and solidly built. The ramp she was standing on led to a heavy-duty garage door that could be raised to bring boats in and out. A professionally painted No Trespassing sign covered most of the door. From where she was standing Emily could see three other signs warning people to stay off the property. One of them, nailed to a tree, featured the picture of a revolver and warned that the property was protected by a Colt .45. The property’s owners clearly didn’t want any uninvited guests. Another sign read: Trespassers will be shot. Survivors will be shot again.
“I could sure use some help,” she yelled. “Please don’t shoot!”
Hearing no response she took a step and felt a jolt of pain. It reminded her that she’d cut her heel, probably on a piece of broken glass or sharp rock, when she’d gone into the lake at the boat launch. Emily took another step, looked down, and saw a bloody footprint.
Paving stones had been used to make a walkway that ran from the boathouse to the cabin. There was a door at the back of the boathouse, next to a large window. The door was locked and there were bars on the window.
Emily turned her attention to the main building. It was an impressive two-storey log cabin with a porch on the front and solar panels on the roof. Whoever owned it clearly had money. They were also security conscious. Iron bars protected every window on the ground level.
Emily limped to the front porch, followed by Buttons. It was obvious nobody was home. There was a huge padlock on the front door, but she knocked anyway. There were two wicker chairs and a glass-top table on the porch. Thankful for the opportunity to sit down she collapsed into one of the chairs and then took a close look at her injured foot. The cut wasn’t too deep and it didn’t look like there was any glass or dirt in the wound.
Emily closed her eyes and took some deep breaths, astonished that she had survived. Then it occurred to her how ironic it was that she felt that way. When she opened her eyes she noticed that the poodle had jumped onto the other chair and was watching her with wide eyes. Then she saw something that made her heart jump. Under the table was a pair of men’s flip-flops. They were much too big and cheaply made, but they were better than bare feet. She slipped them on and decided to walk around the cabin and see if there was anything else she could use.
There was another door and several more windows at the back of the cabin, but they were all shuttered or locked. The only thing left outside was a rake, but it didn’t seem to be of any use. Emily suspected that everything she needed to survive was inside the cabin. There would be food, clothing, and probably a first aid kit.
“If Big John hadn’t taken away my cell phone I could be calling my mother right now.” She was speaking to Buttons, who now seemed determined to keep her in sight at all times. “Of course, being in the lake for so long probably would have wrecked it anyway. I don’t have a waterproof case for it. Too expensive.” Buttons whined in sympathy. “Besides, there probably isn’t cell service this far from town.”
Emily limped back to the front porch. She sat down in the wicker chair and tried to figure out what was happening on the other side of the lake. The thickening smoke made it hard to see exactly what was going on, although towers of flame clearly showed where the tallest trees were being consumed.
It was time to make a plan. Something wasn’t making sense, although she couldn’t immediately put her finger on what it was. Then it dawned on her that there was no sign of a road at the back of the cabin. There was only wilderness. Access to this side of the lake must be by boat only. Trying to reach safety by walking through the bush wasn’t an attractive option, especially with an injured foot. Besides, she didn’t have the faintest clue about which direction to head in.
Emily remembered that while swimming across the lake she’d seen another cottage on the lakeshore. It probably wasn’t far away. She got off the chair and, followed by the little dog, went in search of the other cabin. It didn’t take long to find a path that ran close to the lakeshore. The trail was very narrow and largely overgrown. It didn’t look as though there was much foot traffic between the two properties.
After just a couple of minutes Emily arrived at the other cabin, a run-down, flimsy old shack built of particleboard and weathered lumber. Several battered lawn chairs were clustered around a fire pit. Behind the cabin was a tall stack of split firewood. Next to the wood pile a couple of crudely constructed sawhorses supported a canoe. It rested upside down and was covered with an ancient, moss covered tarp. Set back from the cabin, at the edge of the forest, was an outhouse. There was no driveway or road. Once again the only access was by boat.
The rickety door wasn’t locked and easily swung open. Emily stepped cautiously inside, aware she was trespassing. The only sources of light were a couple of small windows with dirty glass. She blinked until her eyes because accustomed to the gloom.
There wasn’t much to see. The interior of the cabin was a single room. It was small and cluttered with shabby furniture. Emily had seen better kitchen tables at the side of the road with a FREE sign attached to them. It came with four mismatched chairs. The largest piece of furniture was a stained and tattered couch that might have been rescued from a dump.
In the very middle of the room was an old-fashioned wood stove. Leaning against it was an axe. Like everything else in the cabin it had seen better days. The blade was rusty and the handle had a crack running lengthwise down it, and was held together with duct tape.
Three or four mattresses leaned against the back wall. There wasn’t a proper bed anywhere, so Emily assumed the mattresses were simply tossed on the floor and used as beds.
Near the doorway was a kitchen countertop and some cabinets that looked like they’d been rescued from a demolition site. There was a tiny stainless steel sink, but no faucet. The owner likely hauled water from the lake. Wastewater from the sink drained directly into the ground underneath the cabin. On the counter next to the sink sat a container of liquid dish soap and a stained towel.
Emily opened the cabinets to see if anything useful had been left behind. In the first cupboard there were a couple of cans of condensed milk, an almost-empty jar of instant coffee, a tin of tuna, a small can of beans, and a few pieces of beef jerky in a resealable plastic bag. There was also an ancient transistor radio, the smallest flashlight she’d ever seen, and a handful of no-name batteries.
She was delighted to find a small first aid kit, the kind you buy at the drug store for a few dollars. Emily opened it hopefully. It looked as though it had been gradually emptied over the years. There wasn’t anything left in it except for some Band-Aids. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. At least she’d be able to bandage her heel.
The second cabinet was filled with an assortment of pots, pans, mugs, glasses, and plates. Nothing matched.
There were two drawers, one on either side of the sink. There was nothing in the first except for some short emergency candles and a few books of matches. Emily scooped them out of the drawer and put them on the counter.
The second drawer contained a plastic cutlery tray filled with a hodgepodge of knives, forks, and spoons. On impulse she lifted up the tray to see if anything was hidden underneath. There was. A single key. She assumed the key was for the unlocked door and put it back in the hiding place.
Emily kept looking for a light switch. Eventually it dawned on her that if there wasn’t a road on that side of the lake there wouldn’t be any power lines either. The big log cabin next door had solar panels on its roof and might even have its own generator, but the owner of this shack clearly didn’t have the money for those luxuries. There was a Coleman camping lantern on the table, but Emily had no idea how to light it.
A number of large nails had been pounded partway
into a wall, obviously used to hang clothes. There was a battered red ball cap on one of the pegs. It featured the logo of a sports team that Emily didn’t recognize. Hanging from one of the other nails was a long-sleeved camouflage jacket that was covered in sawdust and smelled of sweat.
Emily glanced at her watch, which had survived the swim across the lake, and was surprised to see it was only noon. A lot had happened in just a few hours. It was much cooler in the cabin than it was outside and her wet, clammy clothes were starting to make her feel a little chilly.
After grabbing the dish soap and first aid kit Emily went outside. It was blisteringly hot and she warmed up right away. Followed by Buttons, she carried one of the decrepit lawn chairs to the lake and put it in shallow water. Then she sat for a few minutes and watched the distant fire with a mixture of awe and dread. The smoke was getting thicker, if that was possible, but huge plumes of flame would suddenly flare up and then slowly die. Every now and then there was the sound of an aircraft flying overhead. Emily knew that if she couldn’t see the plane the pilot couldn’t see her.
She carefully washed her wound with the dish soap. It was the closest thing to an antiseptic in the cabin and she thought it was better than nothing. Then she took off her shirt, used it to dry the injured foot, and put a Band-Aid over the cut. Leaning back in the chair, wondering what to do next, she absentmindedly unzipped the fanny pack and began fiddling with the rope. Holding the cord in her hands jolted her back to reality.
“I can’t believe I went through all this trouble to stay alive,” she muttered angrily. Buttons woofed quietly. He was sitting on the beach watching Emily with somber eyes.
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