by Bella Blake
But now that I’m on the ground, I realize it’s not barren. It’s a cluster fuck of a mess.
The first thing that grabs my attention is how many trees are still standing. Way more than I expected. Their bark is burned off, most of the trunk is blackened and charred, but higher up the wood of the tree shines almost silver, like the heat polished it.
The ground is littered with piles of ash, fallen trees, gnarled branches, and something else. I look away when I realize the weird shape had once been a large animal.
That could have been us, if Chase hadn’t woken up and gotten us out of there.
I turn slowly, trying to take it all in, my heart breaking at the scene.
A troubling thought crosses my mind—I wonder if there were any other hikers caught out here. If they were, they might not have been as lucky as us. That’s followed by another sobering thought—it’s very possible the forest rangers think we’re dead.
My car might be a burnt shell by now, but I applied for that wilderness parking permit at the ranger station, so they know I’m out here, even if the hiking plan Chase filed has somehow gone unnoticed.
Plus, both Vanessa and my mom know.
I’ve tried really hard not to think about them, because it makes tears spring to my eyes every time I do. I can’t imagine what they must be going through, seeing news of the wildfire on tv and wondering if I’m okay. They’re both probably beside themselves with concern.
More than anything, I wish there was a way I could let them know I’m alive.
A twinge of guilt washes over me, because I’ve actually enjoyed myself more than I should. I chased my troubles away in the twins’ arms. It’s a nice, cozy bubble to be in, and it’s felt damn good to forget my worries and let myself get wrapped up in hot sex.
Amazing, wondrous, life-altering sex. But still.
I look at Hugh and Chase, admiring their handsome faces and the hard lines of their bodies, and a seed of reticence buries itself in my stomach. I think Vanessa will high five me—after bear-hugging the life out of me at knowing I’m alive, that is. But I can’t ever tell my mom that I spent my time waiting out a forest fire by enjoying the carnal delights of two very attractive twins.
Not that I regret it at all, but as the ashen skeleton of the forest lays out in front of us, I realize our time in the tower was a stolen slice of happiness, and now it’s over.
We’re walking straight into danger, and yet, it’s the only feasible choice we have. We have no idea what’s between us and the water we need to survive, but we can’t just sit on our asses and die.
Chase has his pack on the ground in front of him and he’s pulling two t-shirts out of the bag as I slip my own pack off. We’d talked about this on the way down. I dig around in my bag and when I find my tank top, I toss it to Chase with a nod.
“Take one final sip,” Hugh says, his voice rough and dry even though his lips are wet from the water.
“All right.” I give him a nod as I take the water bottle.
Instead of downing it like my body screams at me to do, I only drink enough to wet my mouth and take a tiny swallow down my parched throat before handing it to Chase. It wasn’t enough, but it’ll have to do. It’s almost torture, teasing my body with a sip of water before I push it to hike long distance.
Chase, done with his own meager ration, sprinkles the remaining water over the shirts. Hugh and I take ours while Chase puts the empty bottle in his bag. No point in leaving it in a side pocket to mock us.
The material of the tank top is damp against my mouth, but it’s already easier to breathe in the smoky, arid landscape.
“It won’t last long, but it’ll help,” Hugh says as he ties the sleeves of a shirt behind his head.
I giggle at the absurdity of the moment. We look like a trio on our way to an impromptu Halloween party that couldn’t find proper masks at the last minute.
“Here,” Hugh holds out his arm for my pack. “I’d feel better if you let me take that.”
I stare at him, really wanting to protest about how I can handle carrying my own pack. But I’m also not stupid. He’s in much better shape and I’ve never done a hike as awful as this one promises to be.
“Thanks,” I say and let out a sigh of defeat. I may be swallowing my pride, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting a bit.
Chase mutters a curse and holds his cell phone up higher.
“When has that ever actually gotten anyone a signal?” I ask as Chase powers it down again and puts it in a side pocket.
“Worth a shot,” he grumbles.
There’s something to be said for being thrust together in the middle of a crisis. It really speeds up the getting-to-know-each-other process. I’m learning Chase has a moodier temper than Hugh. And that Hugh is the one who gets irritated the fastest when his skills are questioned.
Vanessa’s my best friend, but it took months before I felt like I knew her as well as I do these guys. I could swear I know them by heart already. Maybe not all the details of their lives, yet, but I think I’ve got a damn good grasp on who they are at their core.
“Well,” I say in a long sigh as we stand together, the guys on either side of me, the three of us ready to face the trek before us. “We’re burning daylight, boys. Let’s go.”
Chase snorts, his mood lightening up a touch from my pun.
“I’ll lead and you stay between me and Chase,” Hugh says, even though we’ve already gone over the plan on the climb down.
Hugh has the most experience with wildfires, so he’ll lead us through the burn site, hopefully steering us clear of any spots that are too dangerous to risk. The whole place is between a five and ten on the one to ten scale of danger, and I hope we don’t have to deal with anything higher than a seven. I really don’t want us to be surprised by a hot spot or a flare up. I can’t stand the idea of watching Hugh get hurt right in front of me.
The moment my foot steps onto the ashen ground, it’s as if the entire world changes.
My boot sinks a bit in the soft refuse, and I can feel the warmth surrounding it. If it’s still this warm, all the way here at the edge... damn. I don’t want to think about how hot it’s going to get, but I really hope we make good time.
At least we’re lucky that the weather itself is what I think of perfect hiking weather. Slightly overcast, cooler, and there’s a gentle breeze. It’ll make it a bit more bearable.
As expected, Hugh doesn’t take us in a straight line.
Instead, he moves in a seemingly arbitrary zig-zag pattern as we go down the mountain, but I know it’s not actually a random path we’re walking—he’s expertly guiding us around numerous hazards. He leads us around half-burned logs that are too hot to scramble over, and away from potential rock-slides where the earth has been loosened by tree roots pulling up from the ground as they toppled over. He even avoids two clear areas that look fine to me. But as we skirt them, I can see heat waves rippling through the air.
I push myself to keep up with Hugh, because I know my life depends on it. And we have to make it to the river before dark.
At least I have a good view. Even with him wearing my pack, I can still appreciate the toned strength of his body. It’s not the right time or the place to be daydreaming, but I can’t help thinking about his hands on my hips and his cock sliding in and out of me as I rode him, and then how his brother took me from behind as I gave him head.
Of course, Hugh picks this exact moment to look back at me, catching me staring at his ass, my eyes dreamy and full of longing.
“What?” I ask, trying to pull off an innocent tone, but it comes out more as a croak from my dry throat.
“Eyes on the ground, missy,” he says in a stern, hoarse voice, but there’s a flirty arch to his eyebrows and a cocky smile playing across his lips.
Chase lets out a chuckle, and a blush creeps up my cheeks. I want to blame it on the heat billowing from the ground around us, but there’s no point. They both somehow know exactly what I’m thinking a
bout.
Behind me, I can feel Chase’s gaze on me, the same as mine was on Hugh’s. It’s crazy how much desire we still have between us, despite doing our damnedest to satisfy all of our cravings yesterday.
The three of us fall into an easy silence, quietly maneuvering through the blackened, smoking environment together. It’s kind of spooky, and there’s a feeling of otherworldliness as we transverse the landscape.
It could almost be too much.
Between the acidic smoke stinging my eyes, the desperate thirst scratching at my throat, and the forlorn atmosphere surrounding us, there’s every reason to succumb to a sense of futility.
But I refuse to give in to the gloom.
The journey is proving to be uncomfortable on multiple levels, just as I knew it would, but having the twins flanking me is making a huge difference in my spirits. I’m surprisingly centered and calm.
I’m thankful not only to have their keen skills and knowledge of the area, but for their company as well, even though we don’t bother trying to hold a conversation. Trying to talk when it’s hot and you don’t have any water is bad enough before adding in a rough hike.
It’s only five miles between the fire watch tower and the river, but that doesn’t account for the fact that we can’t make a beeline directly to it. Our path is anything but straight. By the time we reach the river, I won’t be surprised if we’ve actually hiked closer to eight miles.
So we don’t say much, other than the occasional direction from Hugh, or one of us making sure the other is fine if one of us stumbles.
And boy do we stumble a lot.
Even following the careful path Hugh carves for us, we discover over and over that the ash hides all manner of debris for us to trip on. We’re going to have bruises in some interesting places.
By unspoken agreement, we don’t stop for breaks. There’s not much of a point, really. Our pace is already slower than we’d normally go, and without water to drink, stopping to stand around would be fruitless. The hollowed trees and charred earth would just taunt us.
We keep going as the sun slowly crosses above us. The blue sky is still choked by smoke, but a narrow beam of sunlight dots the forest floor every now and then, like a laser cutting through the smoky haze.
After a while, I start to lose a sense of time and have to look up to the sky to find the bright dot in the clouds to get an idea of how long we’ve been going.
I’m to the point where I’m mechanically following Hugh, my eyes focused on the back of his calves to watch where he steps. Our shirts went dry a long time ago, but we keep them on because of the ash that drifts in the air.
The world is eerily quiet around us as we hike. Forests are usually filled with a symphony of noise, but the lack of bird calls, insect chirps, and the rustle of critters scampering through the brush today are somber reminders of the destruction.
The silence is broken occasionally by a branch falling in the distance, gravity finally overcoming the remaining strength of the scorched limbs. Each time we flinch, look up to see if it’s close, then keep going.
I realize with a sense of gratitude for Hugh that I’m glad I didn’t argue with him about taking my pack. He doesn’t look like it’s slowing him down a bit, but I would probably be struggling by now to heft its weight, even if I can only barely admit that to myself.
My stomach rumbles hungrily and a craving for a big, juicy hamburger hits me like a tidal wave. I make a silent promise to take both Hugh and Chase out for a giant plate of fries and the biggest burgers I can find once we make it out of here.
Just as we start down a steep slope, a loud snap sounds close by—too close.
A split-second later, there’s a hard shove in the middle of my back as Chase lets out a shout. I stagger forward just as a whoosh of air ripples against my skin. The long, heavy branch misses me by mere inches.
If Chase hadn’t seen it, hadn’t been fast enough to push me out of harm’s way, it would have slammed right into my head. I could have died, that fast. There’s a reason why falling branches are called widow makers.
Instead, I’ve been pushed to safety thanks to Chase’s quick instincts. I stumble, trying to regain my footing, but I’m off the careful path laid out by Hugh’s footprints. My foot sinks deep into the ash, the warm soot filling up the bottom of my pant leg, and then the ground shifts as I windmill my arms to try to stay upright.
Hugh turns back, reaching out to me, and it’s as though I’m disconnected with my body. I can see him, see the safety his hand offers, but I’m not in control of my body anymore and gravity takes control.
I fall forward, my foot still jammed into the ash like something’s grabbed me. I barely escape a faceplant into the ground as I catch myself with my hands at the last moment.
Sharp, excruciating pain snaps me back into my body and time resumes its normal speed as I open my mouth in a silent cry of anguish.
“Shit!”
I can’t tell if the word was muttered by Chase or Hugh, but I know Chase’s arms are the ones around my shoulders as Hugh digs fast through the warm ash to unbury my foot. My mind is blank from the pain, like a winter whiteout’s descended on me, consuming all my senses.
When Hugh slips my foot out from under the edge of a hidden rock, I can’t hold back the shout of pain or the tears that slip out.
“Easy now,” Chase’s voice is soft in my ear as I squeeze my eyes shut.
He helps me turn over and sit down. My hands burn where they’ve been scraped from the half dozen earlier slips, and now they’re bleeding. But that’s a stinging pain, an easy pain, compared to the searing agony coming from my foot and ankle.
“I’ve gotta check it,” Hugh tells me, his voice full of apology as he carefully removes my boot.
I picture the concern on his face since my eyes are still shut as I power through the pain. I give him a nod, sucking my lower lip between my teeth, drawing in ragged breaths.
Chase wraps his hand in mine, and I hiccup a sob the moment Hugh’s fingers press against my already swelling ankle. It feels like he pokes and prods me forever, his touch as gentle as can be while still giving me a thorough examination from the tips of my toes to my calf.
When he tries to rotate my ankle, I let out a screech as my eyes fly open wide. My stomach convulses from the pain, sending a wave of nausea through me.
My breath comes in large shuddering gasps as my ankle throbs, and I rip the shirt off my face, feeling like I’m suffocating. It’s nearly damp from my tears and I almost let out a hysterical laugh at the absurdity of it. All the care I’ve taken to avoid dehydration, and now my body’s spilling out the precious moisture in useless tears.
“I don’t think it’s broken.” Hugh announces his diagnosis with a frown.
“Well, that’s good,” I say, a shot of relief lifting my heart.
I use the shirt to wipe my eyes clear, then brush the ash off of my stinging palms, trying to focus on anything other than my ankle.
He shakes his head. “It’s a hell of a bad sprain, which can be almost as bad. Definitely just as painful. You’re not going to be able to put any weight on it.”
“Dammit,” Chase says for me, for all of us. He falls back on his ass from where he’s been crouched beside me, letting out a deep sigh.
I stare down at my soot-covered clothes, a mixture of frustration and shame washing over me. Foot and ankle injuries can be a death sentence in the wilderness. I’ve just made our journey a million times more difficult—and severely decreased the odds of us making it out of here.
All because I tripped over a stupid rock.
“I’m so sorry,” I mumble, feeling the tears clogging my already parched throat.
Damn, I’m so thirsty. It’s like this fall made everything coalesce into crystal clarity, and the desperate reality of our situation rushes at me all at once, making a sob of fear rise from my chest.
“Hey, no, no, no Meg,” Chase says as he scoots beside me and grabs my shoulders. “None of t
his is your fault. I’m the one who pushed you.”
I sniff loudly and eye the thick branch laying a few feet away. “No, you saved me from a worse fate. Honestly, I’d rather have a fucked-up ankle than a cracked skull.” I gesture at the branch. “Though if I’d been hit by that, you two would have an easier decision.”
“What the actual fuck, Megan?” Hugh snaps, and I’m shocked enough to stare at him with surprise. “You can’t believe we’d even consider leaving you behind for a single second.”
I shrug one shoulder, hapless. “I couldn’t blame you if you did.”
“That option’s not even on the goddamn table,” Chase says with a growl to his breath.
“I know what this means,” I counter, waving a hand at my swollen ankle. “We were already in a survival of the fittest situation, and I just became the weakest link. It’ll put an incredible burden on you guys if I can’t walk.”
Hugh snorts. “If I can haul a hundred and fifty pounds of firefighting gear across these mountains, then I can certainly carry your scrawny ass to the river.”
“Hey!” I say in protest. “I’m not scrawny!”
Then I see the twinkle of humor in his eyes and realize he’s pushing my buttons on purpose, trying to lighten the mood. Beside me, Chase runs his gaze up my frame, appraising my ample ass before lingering on my breasts.
“Definitely not scrawny,” he murmurs flirtatiously, joining his twin in jesting with me.
“Don’t change the subject,” I insist, swatting at Chase. “Look, I don’t expect you guys to deal with this. I’m just a city girl that you had a good time with while the world around us was on fire. It’s not like...”
I trail off, biting the inside of my lip as they exchange a quick glance, my stomach twisting from the chaos of emotions this time, instead of pain. I know what I feel for these two amazing men—as incredible and ridiculous as it is.
But I can’t put that on them now. Not in a situation like this.
“I’m just saying,” I continue as they stare at me, “maybe you two should go for the water and I’ll wait here.”