Ignite

by Piper Stone

  A single tear slipped past her lashes and onto her cheek. She sniffed and wiped away the bead, refusing to succumb to any kind of sadness. There was no need. None. He would be rushing up the driveway in his thunderous truck, tires squealing on the gravel, at any moment. He had to be. He just had to be.

  After waiting for what seemed like a good hour, she ushered Mac back inside, immediately finding his food. As the pup ate, chomping on his nuggets as if starving, she waited by the front window, staring without blinking for minutes at a time. Her nerves remained on edge as the clock struck ten, then ten thirty. When eleven rolled around, bile rose in her throat, a sickening notion of what might have occurred filtering into every synapsis. Why didn’t the man own a television set? Why wasn’t there a single radio in the place? Jesus Christ. He was living in the dark ages.

  The internet. Of course. She rushed to the computer only to find the service was down. How in the hell did people live like this? Frustrated, she paced the floor. What could she do? Who would know?

  She had to find out something. Anything. She was without a car, but the trek back to her cabin might clear her head. Shannon. That’s right. Shannon had asked her to come to Ziggy’s for lunch. The tenacious woman would certainly know something, or at least she would know who to call. A tremor of raw anticipation remained pitted in her stomach, but at least she had a plan.

  “Okay, Mr. Wiggles. You should be fine for a little while. I’ll be back later. I promise.” Kissing Mac on the top of the head, she grabbed her things and headed out the door.

  Please God. Please. Keep him safe.

  Stoker emerged from the shower. Every bone in his body ached like a son of a bitch. The experience had been intense, mind boggling. Maybe he was getting too old to be a smokejumper. After wrapping a towel around his waist, he stood in front of the mirror, surveying the damage. He was damn lucky to be alive. Gripping both sides of the sink, he dropped his head. Fleeting imagines, almost all devoid of color, remained scrolling like a bad “B” rated movie. He held his breath and willed them away. He was alive.

  “No!”

  “Don’t come any closer, Stoker. Get out of here.”

  “I’m not leaving you,” Stoker screamed over the roaring fire.

  “You have to or you’ll die.”

  “Hey rookie, you did good out there. Damn good.”

  Stoker snapped his head up, blinking in order to focus. He remained silent as he attempted to calm his ragged breathing. He was cognizant Boone was standing behind him, but he wasn’t able to put a coherent sentence together.

  “Hey, you all right?” Narrowing his eyes, Boone walked closer, his expression full of concern.

  Managing to nod, Stoker attempted a half smile.

  “Listen, Giovanni is fine. They just took him to the hospital to double check. You saved him. Breathe, my friend. You did damn good.” Boone patted him on the shoulder as he offered a waning smile.

  He closed his eyes. The situation was close to the one in Afghanistan. Too close. Only this time he’d reacted that way he should have. For that he was thankful.

  “Hansen. My office. Five minutes. Okay?” Captain Phillips’ voice was clipped, husky.

  “Yes, sir.” He dressed, realizing he was all alone. The last one to shower and go back to a normal life. What was normal any longer? When he walked into the captain’s office, he noticed Katie’s smile first, her dancing eyes second. The Captain was going over a set of documents. He’d given his report, albeit some of the details were sketchy. Everything had happened so fast. One minute they were digging a trench. The next, the entire area around them was blanketed with smoke and debris. If he hadn’t pulled Antonio out of harm’s way, the man would have been crushed under a massive tree limb. He could swear he heard an explosion just seconds before.

  “Hi ya. Welcome back,” Katie said brightly. “Glad you’re okay.”

  Stoker nodded. “Sir, you wanted to see me?”

  Captain Phillips exhaled and set the papers down on his desk. “Katie. Will you leave us for a few minutes?”

  “Of course.” Katie eased out of her seat and headed for the office door, closing it behind her.

  Stoker slid his hands into his pockets “Is Giovanni okay?”

  “Antonino is going to be just fine. Some smoke inhalation and bumps and bruises, but nothing worse.” Captain Phillips looked him up and down. “How are you?”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine. The guys said you freaked out a bit up there.”

  Stoker opened his eyes wide. “Sir, I did not freak out. I was concerned and expressed as much.” Had he freaked out? He was unable to discern given he’d lost a few moments during the rescue. He simply couldn’t remember pulling Antonio to safety, but he obviously had.

  The Captain sighed and walked around his desk. “I know you still have some issues you’re dealing with.”

  “Issues?” Now, he was bristling.

  “Calm down, son. I know all about what happened during your last front line duty. It’s no secret. I’m not saying you can’t do your job, so just settle down.” He smiled and gave a comforting nod.

  Breathing out, Stoker swallowed back his increasing anger. This was no time to lose his cool. “I’m working through my fears and I refuse to let that interfere with my job. I promise you, sir.”

  Captain Phillips sat on the edge of his desk. “You saved a man’s life out there. You didn’t hesitate, didn’t flinch given the horrific danger. You acted and reacted. I can’t ask for a better jumper. However, I need to make certain that your mind is in the game at all times. You can’t go off half-cocked and before you say anything, I’m not suggesting that you did in this case. I’m merely saying I want you to continue to take time for yourself. Heal. Go fishing. Hiking. Riding. Whatever makes you happy. A well-rounded Zulie is what I need. Understood?”

  He looked away before nodding. The Captain was right of course. He needed to get his shit together. “That I can do, sir.”

  “Call me Captain or Scully, not sir. Makes me feel older than I am.” Laughing, he slapped his chest, his eyes twinkling.

  Stoker grinned. “Can do. Is that all?”

  Captain Phillips glanced out the oversized windows. “The real reason I called you in here is I want to know what you believe is going on.”

  “Sir? I mean Captain?”

  “You believe this is arson along with a group of people. Did you find anything up there to corroborate your view?”

  “No, nothing, but the fire was started by an explosion of some kind. I’ll bet my career on this. I saw the same kind of thing in the war. The enemies would create a makeshift bomb and when triggered, the blaze had the same burn pattern.” Stoker remembered various situations. He looked away.

  Whoosh! Boom!

  “What is it?” the Captain asked.

  Stoker closed his eyes, the roaring sound almost too real. “There was an explosion just before we were hit. I would swear this wasn’t caused by a firestorm.”

  “You’re thinking a bomb?”

  “A device. I swear to you the sound was man made.”

  “If you’re right then maybe there’s some evidence left. I’ll let the investigator know to look in the blast area.”

  Exhaling, Stoker went over the details again. From the moment of the blast until at least two minutes later was a total blank. “Good.”

  The Captain nodded. “Okay. Obviously, the fire investigator has his hands full, but I’m hoping to have his preliminary report by tomorrow sometime. In the meantime, you may want to consider talking to Sheriff James about your suspicions. From what I understand, he has his hands full with the press and the Mayor breathing down his neck. We can’t have this hanging over our heads. Ski season is approaching and the last thing this town needs is fearful tourists.”

  “Yeah, I get it. I’ll talk to him. I have a terrible feeling this isn’t over.” If the Captain was right about his suspicions this was caused by another jumper, he’d bet on Antonio. The thought wa
s sketchy at best. Although putting himself in the line of fire so to speak was a great deterrent.

  “You and me both. Now get out of here. If I have any further questions I’ll let you know. I think everyone needs a day off, but be back here by seven am day after tomorrow. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir. I mean Captain. I forgot to ask. How’s Tom doing?”

  The Captain shrugged. “Must be doing pretty well. He checked himself out of the hospital already. Tough guy.” He laughed. “You have no idea how tough.”

  “Good to hear. Maybe he’ll be back soon.”

  A knowing smile crossing his face, he eased up from the desk. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

  As Stoker walked out of the office, a damning feeling remained in the pit of his stomach. This wasn’t over by a long shot. In fact, the fire was just brewing.

  “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Shannon said as she grinned. “Come on in here, girl. I’ll fix us something mighty fine to eat. You hungry?”

  Jessica inched toward the bar. A few customers were inside, casually drinking beer and watching sports on one of the many televisions. She shivered and folded her arms. “I don’t know.”

  “Okay. Whoa. What’s wrong? Get into a fight with that cowboy of yours? I’ll kick his ass and I can do it.”

  Swallowing, she looked down. “I’m not certain he’s alive.”

  “What?” Shannon moved out from behind the bar. “Come sit down.”

  “The smokejumpers had a call last night. Stoker hasn’t come home yet,” Jessica said quietly.

  “Wait a minute. Stoker is actually back as a jumper, a Jackal?”

  Jessica narrowed her eyes.

  Shannon chuckled. “That’s what they call the motley crew. Girl, breathe. If something would have happened to Stoker, I can tell you for certain I’d know about it as would half the town. Those guys have risked their lives for every one of us at least once. They’re our town heroes. I’m just confused that Stoker is back on the crew.”

  “Why?”

  “Long story.”

  “This has to do with his friend, the one from the war. Doesn’t it?” Jessica asked as she leaned over the table.

  “What did Stoker tell you?”

  “Not much. Just that something horrible happened and that he was to blame. Something to do with his friend, Cooper. I know there’s a hell of a lot more to the story. I also know the anchor around his neck is killing him. Tell me. Please.”

  “I really shouldn’t,” Shannon said as she shook her head. “Surprised he mentioned Cooper though.”

  “Please. I can’t imagine what he’s going through but I’d like to help him. No, I need to help him. Please tell me.”

  Shannon’s eyes darted back and forth across Jessica’s face. “You’re in love with him.”

  “No!” Jessica groaned. “Hell, I don’t know at this point. He’s frustrating. Aggravating. He’s also sexy as hell.”

  Chuckling, Shannon patted her hand. “Well, he’s a mighty fine catch, but he does have his demons.”

  “So, I hear. I need to know what I’m dealing with. I promise I won’t tell him that you said anything.”

  “Let me get us something cold to drink.”

  Nodding, Jessica hoped she was doing the right thing. While the nausea remained, her gut told her that Stoker was alive.

  Shannon eased two drinks down on the table. “Lemonade. We might need something stronger later after I tell you the story and I’m only telling you the basics. That’s it.”

  She remained silent as Shannon began to talk.

  “Cooper McKenzie and Stoker were buddies from school. They did everything together. When I arrived in town, they were the two men in town every woman wanted. They were back from a tour of duty, the second for both men I think. Cooper immediately went to the smokejumping team for whatever training he needed, his pride and joy. Stoker decided to take some time off, but was scheduled to join the team later. Another aspect of the war broke out and Stoker was called back to duty. Stoker didn’t want to go, but Cooper convinced him to do the right thing. Patriotic duty. I don’t know all the details, but Stoker had no one to care for the ranch. He was ready to retire from the Marines and was set to do so.”

  “Until he was called back,” Jessica added.

  “Yeah. You know Stoker well enough to know that he already had a bit of a chip on his shoulder when he went back over. From what I know, Cooper was called up a couple months later. They were part of an elite team, very much like the smokejumpers here. They went out on a dangerous mission and things got ugly.” Shannon took a gulp of her drink.

  “Cooper was hurt.”

  Shannon nodded as she twirled her glass. “There was a nighttime mission. Things got hairy and they were being recalled because the situation was just too dangerous. I don’t know all the details. Stoker has never told anyone that I’m aware of. What I do know is that Cooper jumped and his parachute didn’t go off until a few hundred feet above ground. His leg was crushed and had to be amputated.”

  “Oh, Jesus. Stoker blames himself.” Jessica thought about Stoker’s admittance to her. There had to be even more to the story.

  “You bet he did. That’s where the details get fuzzy. When they returned, they were different men, both angry and hurt. They weren’t talking to each other. Cooper refusing help. He was lost, suffering more mentally than physically. They had a huge fight and Cooper left town, swearing if he ever saw Stoker again he’d kill him.”

  “Why?”

  “That, sugar, is between two pig headed men. Sadly, the entire situation has ruined both of their lives, or at least their professions. Stoker swore off jumping for good. I was shocked last year when he rejoined the fire department. To learn he’s back on the jump team is incredible.” Shannon grinned and winked. “That means that he has some powerful influence in his life, such as a beautiful lady.”

  Jessica sat back. “Me? I had nothing to do with him rejoining the team. None.”

  “I think you did. See, you allowed him to be a man again, to feel. He’s been so bottled up I thought he was going to kill himself. Only that gorgeous dog of his has kept him from lighting up like a bottle rocket.”

  She brushed her index finger across her lips, the memory of their passion still fresh. Was she a positive catalyst? “I don’t know.”

  “Trust me. You’re good for him.”

  “Do you know where Cooper is?” Jessica asked, formulating a plan in her head. She had to help Stoker. This was one of the reasons she was here. She was certain.

  “Word on the street is that he’s living with his sister, which means he’s back in town. Why?” When Jessica lifted her head, Shannon wagged her finger. “Do not interfere, girlie. I know Stoker. Helping him by showering him with affection is one thing. Interfering with his past and his personal demons is another altogether. Talk about a hornet’s nest.”

  Jessica had no idea what she was thinking, but she’d never been one to shirk what she believed to be her responsibilities. Someone had to intervene. “I understand.”

  “Now, how about that gig I offered you? You won that contest last night. I have a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill for you.”

  “I’ve been thinking about your idea.” One hundred dollars. She used to command tens of thousands. She doubted that would ever happen again.

  “And?” Shannon asked, her tone eager.

  “Well…” A breaking news bulletin on one of the televisions caught her attention. She stood up and walked toward the bar. The pictures were vivid and terrifying, but as the story unfolded, she breathed a sigh of relief. “He’s alive. Alive.”

  “In late breaking news, the local smokejumping team had their hands full once again as acres of land near the Grey Wolf Peak Casino were torched late last night. There is some speculation that arson was involved. I’ve been told the Fire Investigator is on the scene. While there is no loss of life, one of the jumpers was injured; however, his injuries are minor thanks to a fellow jumper’s
quick actions. God’s good grace smiled again.”

  The words echoed in Jessica’s ears. Stoker. Now she knew what she had to do and nothing was going to stop her. Nothing.

  Bam!

  “God fucking damn it!” Anger pillowed underneath his skin, creating pricks of goose bumps along every inch of naked skin. He slammed his hand on the desk until his teeth chattered. This couldn’t be happening.

  “While there is no loss of life, one of the jumpers was injured; however, his injuries are minor thanks to a fellow jumper’s quick actions. God’s good grace smiled again.” The reporter’s grim face had an aura of revelation, as if God himself came down from the heavens.

  “What bullshit,” he muttered under his breath.

  Photos of the existing smokejumping team flashed on the television, rugged faces smiling for their fifteen minutes of fame. They too could be snuffed out, their lives cut short. Just as they fucking should be.

  “As additional details are provided by the local law enforcement departments, we’ll keep you updated. At this point, everyone is thankful given the damage could have been much worse.” The reporter took a step back as the camera zoomed in on the base of the mountains. While the picture was grainy, anyone watching their boob tubes would be able to see the scarred land, the trees devoid of any foliage. At least his actions hadn’t been completely in vain.

  He flicked off the television set, furious with himself for watching his entire operation turn to shit. He’d planned every detail, configured every angle, yet he was thwarted. What the hell was he going to do now?

  He realized he needed to be patient, give himself time to sort through the details in order to figure out what he should do next. This was unexpected, but certainly not a game changer. He thought about the possible reasons the mission had gone awry. There were various reasons but one remained in the forefront of his mind. The smokejumping team. The firemen he had no issue containing, but the damn Zulies has surpassed his abilities. At least for now.