“I must have panicked,” Emily continued, talking directly to the poodle. “Being burned alive is one of the most painful ways to die. I never wanted to go that way, so I guess it made sense for me to escape.” She thought for a moment. “I’ve read that drowning is actually peaceful. At the end, anyway.”
Buttons wagged his tail.
“It could have been a perfect ending,” sighed Emily, wiping away a tear. “I was in the middle of a lake, for cripes sake. All I had to do was let go of the oar and the cooler. There’s no way I’d have been able to swim much longer. I’d be at the bottom right now. Even if they ever did find my body people would assume I’d drowned while trying to get away from the fire.”
Buttons barked happily, glad to be included in the conversation.
“Of course, you’d have suffocated in the cooler. That wouldn’t have been fair to you. It would be a terrible way to go.”
Emily took the plastic wrapper off the rope. “I guess I’m back to the original plan.”
The smoke was stinging her eyes and making breathing difficult.
“I think we should go inside for a while.”
The poodle barked in agreement.
Emily stood up and, using the chair as support, hopped to shore on her good foot. She didn’t want to get the Band-Aid wet. Once on shore she put on the flip-flops. She took one last look at the lake and noticed the cooler had drifted to shore and was just a short distance away. It wasn’t likely she’d have any further use for it, but Emily wasn’t the sort of girl who left litter behind. She picked up the container and left it outside the cabin.
The indoor air quality wasn’t great, although it was better than outside. The dirty windows hardly let in any light and it was too dim for Emily to find her way around the cabin without turning on the small flashlight. She was pleasantly surprised by how much light it gave off. Emily lit one of the emergency candles and set it on a chipped plate, so it wouldn’t start a fire if it tipped over. Then she lit a second one and put it on top of the cast iron stove. Two flickering candles provided barely enough light for her to walk around the cabin without bumping into things.
Once again feeling chilled, Emily figured it was time to dry her clothes. She decided to take a section of her rope, tie it between two trees, and use it as a clothesline. It was so hot outside that, combined with a strong wind, her clothes would dry quickly.
She looked in the cutlery drawer for a knife to cut through the rope. There was one with a dull, serrated blade. It barely made a mark on the rope. Then she remembered that there was something better.
Emily picked up the rusty axe and headed out the door. Buttons, reluctant to let her out of sight, followed. Emily found two suitable trees, measured the rope, and hacked off a piece with the axe. She put up the clothesline and then draped her pants and shirt over it. For a moment she seriously considered adding her underwear to the line of drying laundry, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. “I’m so shy I don’t even like stripping down in front of a boy dog,” she told Buttons. “Besides, what if the people who own this cabin suddenly arrive by boat and they find me naked?”
In the end she decided to leave her underwear on and let it dry on her skin.
“Are you hungry?”
Buttons seemed to understand the question and barked enthusiastically. They went back into the shack and Emily found a can opener in the cutlery drawer. She opened the tin of tuna and put it on the floor. Buttons immediately began wolfing it down. Emily thought about opening the can of beans for herself, but didn’t have any appetite.
Suddenly overcome with fatigue she sat on the couch, which was more comfortable than it looked. A few minutes the later the poodle finished his meal, jumped onto the couch, and snuggled against Emily’s leg.
“I know you didn’t mean any harm, but you are the cause of all this trouble.” Emily’s voice was gentle. She was too tired to be angry. “If you hadn’t run off everything would be okay right now.”
As soon as the words left her mouth Emily knew she was talking nonsense. She had no idea if everyone else from the campground was safe. The fire had moved with amazing speed and it was possible the refugees had been cut off. Perhaps she was the only one who’d survived. How ironic would that be?
Buttons nuzzled Emily’s hand.
“Yeah, now you want to be my buddy. You weren’t very friendly when we first met.” She laughed bitterly. “I can’t really blame you for not liking me at first. Hardly anyone does. I haven’t had a real friend since grade three.”
The dog yawned and put his head on Emily’s lap.
“The good thing about dogs is that they don’t care if people are considered cool or not. I’m pretty sure you aren’t bothered by the fact I was voted ugliest girl in my school.” She began sobbing. “Don’t worry. Before I go I’ll make sure you’re okay.”
Emily cried for awhile and held the dog tight. Buttons gave her a wet kiss. Emily smiled through her tears. “I know you are trying to make me feel better.” She sighed. “I’m going to go crazy if I just sit here. Time to get up and do something.”
She went outside and discovered her clothes were dry, so she put them on. Of course they smelled of smoke but so did everything else. This time Buttons didn’t follow her outside. The small dog was exhausted and refused to move from the couch.
Seven
The sun was slowly sinking in the west, a crimson ball that Emily could barely see through the haze. If possible the smoke was even worse than it had been earlier in the day. The wind had almost completely died down. In one way that was good, because the fire didn’t appear to be spreading as quickly. On the other hand, now there was nothing to blow away the smoke.
The fire on the other side of the lake didn’t look quite as ferocious as it had earlier in the day. A lot of the trees and forest litter had already burned. Fortunately the lake had acted as a moat, protecting the far shore and its vacation homes from flying sparks.
As she stood near the shack wondering what to do next, Emily’s eyes fell on the cooler. It looked new. She remembered that she’d left the lid on the shore near the boathouse. A good cooler, as long as it had a lid, could be left behind as thank-you gift for the people who had unintentionally provided her with shelter and supplies. She decided to get the lid.
The hazy light that had persisted all day was now fading rapidly. Emily carefully made her way along the path that linked the two properties. The lid was beside the boathouse, right where she’d left it.
Curious about what was inside the building, she shone her flashlight through the window. On the floor in front of the window was a Jet Ski. She could also make out a workbench with a few tools lying on it. It didn’t look as though there was anything of immediate use, and since someone who will soon be dead doesn’t need to worry about long-term planning, she shrugged and walked away.
Emily carried the lid back to the shack and leaned it against the cooler. Then she went into the cabin, where the two candles were still burning. Buttons opened his eyes, briefly wagged his tail in greeting, and went back to sleep.
Hunger was finally setting in. Emily opened the can of beans and started eating them cold with a spoon. The smell of food woke the poodle up. He jumped to the floor, sat at Emily’s feet, and begged for something to eat. She wasn’t sure if dogs were supposed to like beans, or even if it would make them sick, but decided to take a chance. She took a small bowl out of the cupboard and put some beans in it. Buttons scarfed the food down and greedily licked up all the tomato sauce.
While searching for dishes and cutlery Emily had rediscovered the old battery-powered radio. She was desperate for news about the forest fire and turned it on. To her surprise the radio worked, although she was only able to find a single station. Luckily the station was local and its programming that day was focused entirely on news about the forest fire.
She learned that the fire had amazed everyone with how fast it had spread. It was still growing, but not as quickly because the wind had di
ed down. The announcer said it was lucky the fire had been stopped on one flank by Hawkeye Lake.
Emily listened intently to an interview with a provincial fire official who said his crews couldn’t fight a wildfire at night for safety reasons. The exhausted firefighters would have to leave the front lines, giving them a much-needed break, and would resume the battle in the morning. Unfortunately the weather forecast for the night was not good. It called for gale-force winds that could spread a forest fire at an incredible rate. There was a real risk it could turn into a Rank 6 fire. Rank 6 was the highest category of forest fire; it indicated a dangerous and unpredictable inferno. There was also the risk of thunderstorms. Heavy rain would be welcome, but lightning strikes could start more fires and make the situation even worse.
The firefighting situation across the province was so desperate that other parts of the country were sending help. Alberta and Saskatchewan were sending as many trained fire crews as they could spare and five water bombers were on their way from Quebec.
The good news was that the Beaver Creek Campground had been successfully evacuated. The other campers had crossed the creek, made it to the safety of the iron bridge, were picked up by rescue crews, and driven to safety in school buses. The bad news was that a teenage girl was missing.
“At least your mom and dad are safe,” said Emily, who was sitting on the couch beside Buttons. “I’m sure they are worried about you.”
Emily thought about her own parents. By now they would have been informed that she was missing. They’d both be worried sick. Well, her mom for sure. Dad had never been terribly interested in her. The only reason Emily was on this stupid wilderness expedition was because he was feeling guilty for abandoning his family to start a new one. Also, he was probably getting the trip for free. It would never have occurred to her father to first ask Emily if she wanted to go camping. It angered Emily when she learned he’d booked the trip, and it was then she began to have dark thoughts. She wondered if anyone else had ever gone on a survival course, determined not to survive it.
Then Emily went numb. She heard Big John being interviewed on the radio. He was being called a hero because he’d successfully organized the campground evacuation and had personally carried two small children to safety. But it was obvious to anyone listening that Big John didn’t feel like a hero. He considered himself a failure. One of the teenagers in his care was missing. He described how the girl had run directly into danger to save someone’s dog. “It was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” sobbed Big John. “I just hope they’re both okay.”
Emily had never heard such intense pain in a person’s voice. Although she hadn’t meant to cause anyone grief, and chasing after Buttons had been done with the best of intentions, she realized Big John was sick with worry.
She turned off the radio and stretched out on the couch. Buttons climbed onto her lap. Emily was by nature a sympathetic person and couldn’t rid herself of the suspicion that she’d just ruined Big John’s life. He’d been responsible for her safety and, even though it wasn’t his fault that she’d run after Buttons, he’d be blamed forever if people thought she’d died in the fire.
Emily made up her mind to look for a pen and paper in the morning so she could leave a note saying she and Buttons had survived the fire and she considered Big John a hero for helping to save all the other campers. She realized that it was highly unlikely that she was going to find any writing material. Emily closed her eyes, pulled the poodle onto her lap, and tried to figure out what to do next.
Eight
“I’m not sure how to do what I have to do and still keep you safe.” Emily stroked the poodle’s badly matted fur as she spoke. One of the pink ribbons was gone, but the other was still in place.
She absent-mindedly reached inside the fanny pack, which was again around her waist, and fingered the rope she was going to use to hang herself.
Emily could hardly remember a time when she felt happy and safe. Maybe when she was younger and people weren’t so critical of her. Now, for some inexplicable reason, everything about her was wrong. Female classmates were constantly criticizing her clothes and hairstyle. Some of the meaner girls called her stupid. She knew that wasn’t accurate. Emily was actually very smart. She also worked hard at school and got good grades. And she was always respectful of others.
Now whenever Emily passed a mirror she studied her reflection carefully and wondered if she really was hideous. She had so many freckles that she’d convinced herself that her skin actually looked dirty. Having unruly carrot-coloured hair was definitely a curse. Her teeth were a little crooked because her parents couldn’t afford braces, but nobody would notice unless she smiled. She rarely smiled anymore anyway. Certainly she would never make it as a model, although the kids who were cruelest to her at school definitely weren’t much to look at either.
What was the point of living if every day brought fresh hurt and humiliation? Emily thought a lot about that question. On the day her father moved out she thought her heart had finally hit bottom. A few days later she discovered things could get even worse when she won the ugly girl contest. She started thinking about killing herself. For some reason the idea became more attractive every time she considered it. It promised an end to the pain.
Being sent on a wilderness survival expedition appeared to offer the perfect solution. She could slip away into the forest, find a sturdy tree branch, and hang herself. The problem with that strategy was that she didn’t want to cause problems for anyone else. She’d read somewhere that suicide was only passing along the grief. Emily knew that if she went missing during the wilderness trip the other campers and Big John would look for her. It would be very traumatic for one of the other kids to find her lifeless body hanging from a branch. They might need therapy. She hated the thought of being responsible for something like that.
The perfect solution would have been to intentionally drown while crossing the lake, but she’d been in too much of a panic to realize it at the time. Nobody wants to burn to death, and while fleeing the fire her survival instincts had completely taken over. Besides, she was responsible for Buttons’ safety and it would have been cruel to let him drown or suffocate in the cooler.
What to do next? In the morning she could walk into the forest with her rope and find a sturdy tree. The surrounding bush was thick. It was possible she wouldn’t be found for years. Maybe never. Another possibility was to tie something heavy around her waist and walk into the lake. Once again her body might never be found. People would assume she’d died in the forest fire. But that would certainly lead to fingers being pointed at Big John.
She thought again about trying to find pen and paper and leaving a note saying she’d survived the fire but had committed suicide the next day. At least people wouldn’t blame Big John.
Another problem was what to do with the small white dog that was pressed against her. When she was gone there would be nobody to look after Buttons. Perhaps she could lock the poodle in the shack with a bowl of water and the last of the food. In the note she could explain why the dog was there and how to track down its owners. The flaw with that plan was there was nothing of value in the cabin and it might take the owners a long time to get around to coming back and checking on things. Buttons might end up starving to death.
What about the big log cabin? The owners were obviously very protective of it. Otherwise they wouldn’t have posted so many threatening No Trespassing signs. As soon as it was safe those owners would surely check the property to ensure everything was okay. There would almost certainly be something inside she could use to write a note. She convinced herself there would be a lot of canned and dried food stored inside the cabin. That would allow her to open some cans of tuna or stew, or whatever they had, for Buttons. With food and a pail of water the poodle could probably survive comfortably for a week or more.
Unfortunately the cabin was locked up like a fortress. Getting inside would not be easy. Maybe she could use the axe to break d
own the door? Emily didn’t like the idea of damaging someone else’s property, but there didn’t appear to be an alternative.
Emily considered her options for a long time, stroking the dog’s head the whole while. Yes, breaking into the log cabin seemed to be the best solution. There had to be a lot of supplies stored inside. She could leave food and water for Buttons and let him have the run of the cabin. Surely it wouldn’t be long before someone rescued him.
Usually when she came up with a plan she felt better. Not this time. The combination of smoke, several painful burns, and dark thoughts had left her with a fierce headache. Exhausted Emily closed her eyes and cried herself to sleep.
Nine
It wasn’t a restful nap. Her left eye, the one that had been hit by a flying ember, was swollen almost shut and ached dreadfully. Buttons insisted on lying on Emily’s chest. Not only did the dog stink of smoke and muck, but having even a small weight on her chest made it harder for Emily to get comfortable.
Then there were the nightmares. Fire demons were chasing her. No matter how fast she ran, or where she turned, she couldn’t escape. They were armed with plumes of smoke that turned into nooses. Finally they caught her and attempted to strangle her with the ropes of smoke. In her dreams she kept on fighting and didn’t surrender.
One of the fire demons started barking. The barking grew louder and more frantic. It seemed so real that it woke her up. It was no dream. Buttons was in hysterics.
“Leave me alone!” ordered Emily, groggy from pain and exhaustion. But Buttons wouldn’t let up. The dog licked Emily’s face and his tongue touched the sore eye, causing her to sit up and shriek in pain.
Her first instinct was to swat him, something she would normally never even think of doing. Then, as she became more alert, she realized something was seriously wrong.
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