Firefighter

by Jennifer Li Shotz

  “What kind of things?”

  “Well, to be brave, for starters.” His dad chuckled. “But clearly you learned that one from your mom.”

  Matt felt his cheeks get hot.

  “I’m real proud of you, Matt.”

  “Thanks.” Matt shrugged. In the quiet that followed, Matt remembered what his sister had said the day before at the airport—a conversation that seemed a hundred years ago now. Was his dad really feeling guilty that he hadn’t been there during the flood? “Dad?”

  “Yeah, bud?”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything.”

  Matt hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “You know that I was okay—we were okay—during the flood, right?”

  His dad didn’t say anything.

  “You don’t have to feel bad that you weren’t here. That’s what I mean.”

  “That’s not your burden to carry,” his dad said heavily. “That’s mine. It’s my number one job to protect my family.”

  “But, Dad—” Matt faltered. He remembered the confident, satisfied feeling he’d had after the bear encounter, the one that had made him straighten up and feel a little taller. “I can take care of myself now.”

  Matt’s dad reached out a hand and wrapped it around his son’s shoulders. He squeezed Matt tightly. “I know you can, Matt-o.” His dad sighed, long and slow. He made a face like he was struggling with a hard decision. “Please don’t make me regret this, son.”

  “Huh?”

  “Go.”

  “Go?”

  “Find your friends.”

  For a second, Matt wasn’t sure he’d heard his dad correctly, and then the words sank in. He hopped to his feet and threw on his pack. Scout scrambled to his feet, his K-9 vest askew and his tail up. He snapped to Matt’s side, instantly ready to roll out.

  But Matt faltered.

  He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t choose his friends over his family.

  “No.” Matt started to pull off his pack. “I can’t leave you here.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  “But, Dad, what if the fire comes? You’re hurt.”

  “Matt, look at me.” He sounded like a commanding officer, not a dad. Matt met his eyes. “I’ll be fine. I need you to trust me on that, because that’s what soldiers do. We trust each other.”

  Matt knew the look on his dad’s face. His mind was made up. His jaw was set, and his gaze was steady. “Got it,” Matt said, his heart filling with gratitude.

  “But here, take this.” His dad rummaged through his own pack and pulled out two small walkie-talkies. He turned them on, and they let out a static-filled squawk. He adjusted the channels and handed one to Matt. “It’ll be like I’m right there with you.”

  Matt nodded.

  “We’re a team, Matt-o. You’re not going up there alone. Call me at the first sign of trouble.”

  “Sure thing.” Matt gripped the walkie-talkie tightly in his hand.

  “And your mom will be here soon.”

  “Okay, Dad.”

  “Come here.”

  Matt leaned down, and his dad pulled him into a hug so tight it hurt. But Matt didn’t mind.

  “I love you, buddy.”

  “I love you too, Dad,” Matt said into his chest.

  After a moment, his dad let him go. Matt stood up.

  “I’ll be right back,” Matt said. “I promise.” He looked down at his dog and held out Dev’s climbing harness for Scout to sniff. When he was done, he looked up at Matt expectantly. “Scout,” Matt said firmly, “search.”

  Scout followed his command, and together he and Matt headed off into the dark.

  12

  AS SOON AS THE SOUND OF the waterfall faded, Matt was flooded with doubt. This is crazy. We’re heading toward a fire instead of away from it.

  The flames a few hundred feet above their heads had grown taller. They lit up the night, reflecting off the sky with an eerie red-and-orange glow.

  So far, the fire had stayed on top of the ridge. But Matt knew that at any second, it could spill down their side of the mountain without any warning, incinerating everything—and everyone—in its path.

  Matt’s throat tightened, as much from fear as from the thickening smoke that coated his nose and mouth and crept into his lungs. He pulled his sweatshirt over his face and forced himself to breathe slowly and steadily. Stay focused. If you’re going to do this, then do it. There’s no time to second-guess yourself. This is a problem, and you’re finding a solution.

  The walkie-talkie crackled in Matt’s back pocket. “Matt?”

  The tinny sound of his dad’s voice hit Matt like a punch in the gut. He would have given anything to have him by his side right at that moment.

  Matt pulled out the device and pushed the button on the side. “Hi, Dad,” he said.

  “How far are you?”

  “Um, about a quarter mile from the top.”

  “How are things looking?”

  “So far so good, I guess.” Matt’s voice wavered. No sooner had he let go of the button than his dad’s voice popped through the speaker again.

  “Remember, you can be scared later,” his dad said. Matt couldn’t help but smile. That was definitely one of his dad’s top five favorite sayings.

  “Got it.”

  “Stay focused. Keep your head on a swivel, kiddo.”

  “I will.”

  The trail narrowed to just a couple feet across. Scout ran ahead of Matt, easily tackling the sharp uphill climb. He scented along the ground and in the air. Matt moved at a slow jog and willed his tired legs to move faster.

  Matt studied the burning ridge above them. He and Scout had gained elevation, but had the flames moved farther down the slope too? His eyes watered and stung—were they playing tricks on him? Tentacles of smoke wrapped themselves around Matt’s arms and legs. He half expected to feel them on his skin.

  Suddenly, a canopy of rock emerged from the smoky darkness. Matt’s heart picked up speed. He and Scout hopped off the trail and took off into the brush. “We’re at the overhang,” Matt said breathlessly into the walkie-talkie as he ran.

  “Excellent.” His dad exhaled with relief. “Is the fire holding steady so far?”

  “I think so.”

  “You know what to do: Get in fast, get out fast.”

  “Yeah.” It sounded so easy when his dad said it.

  “You got this, Matt-o.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” He tucked the walkie-talkie into his back pocket and saw that Scout had stopped a few feet from the overhang. Confused, Matt came to a halt next to him. “What is it, buddy? What’re you waiting for? Search! Find Dev!”

  Scout whimpered and skittered back and forth across Matt’s path. He let out one sharp bark—a warning—that hurt Matt’s ears in the nighttime quiet.

  “Scout!” Matt said, his frustration mounting. “We don’t have time for this.” Matt whipped Dev’s harness out of his backpack again and jammed it under Scout’s nose. He sucked in his breath, filling his belly with air—and conviction. “Search, Scout,” he commanded.

  Without waiting for his dog, Matt took off again. Dried twigs snapped under his feet. Matt used his flashlight to see the uneven ground ahead of him.

  But Scout wasn’t having it.

  Scout swept past Matt, spun around and stopped directly in front of him. The dog dropped into a low crouch, his front legs splayed and his eyes locked on Matt.

  Scout was blocking his path.

  And he was growling.

  His dog had turned on him.

  “Scout!” Matt snapped. “What the . . . ? What’s wrong with you?” Matt couldn’t hide his frustration—or his panic—anymore.

  He took a step forward, trying to push past Scout.

  But Scout jumped up and, frenzied, ran back and forth in front of Matt. He barked angrily.

  Matt took another step.

  Scout ran at him.

  For a split second, Matt’s mind went blank. Was h
is own dog about to attack him? Had the smoke and the altitude made Scout go mad?

  Scout’s front legs left the ground. His eyes were wild.

  Matt reflexively raised an arm to cover his face and prepared himself for the sting of sharp teeth cutting through his skin.

  But Scout didn’t close his jaws around Matt. Instead, he planted his front legs on Matt’s chest and shoved him backward. Matt stumbled but caught himself, turning his body sideways to throw Scout off him. Scout landed on all fours and raised his head to snap at the hem of Matt’s shorts. He clamped his teeth around the fabric and tugged, hard.

  Scout was dragging Matt away from the overhang. Matt tripped and staggered until he found his balance. Scout released his grip but continued to herd Matt forward, running back and forth behind Matt’s legs and urging him along.

  Matt jumped as something singed his arm.

  “Ow!”

  Matt brushed it off quickly. Before he had time to wonder what it was, he felt it again—a hot sensation, this time on his neck. Matt swatted at it and looked up at the sky.

  Dozens of tiny bright spots floated down all around them, like fireflies in summer. But these weren’t fireflies.

  These were embers.

  Matt watched in horror as the tiny sparks landed on the ground. His eyes grew wide as one, then two, then a dozen more began to smolder in the underbrush. Matt’s head whipped around, back toward the overhang and the spot where Scout had confronted him. The very air was alight, and the ground where they had just been standing was an expanse of orange—a wriggling carpet of heat and fire.

  Scout had gotten Matt out of there just in time.

  Matt was overwhelmed with gratitude for his dog—and guilt. How had he doubted Scout, even for a second? But there was no time for thanks.

  Matt turned on his heel and, moving as one, he and Scout raced back toward the trail. But just before they reached it, Scout skidded to a stop and began barking in a harsh, high-pitched tone. Matt lurched to a halt and followed Scout’s gaze.

  Up ahead, the ground glowed with embers. Desperate, Matt spun around. In every direction, the earth was coming to life.

  They were trapped. And Matt was paralyzed.

  Which way should they go? How would they get out of there?

  Scout ran in a tight circle. He sniffed at the ground but jerked his head back from the heat. Matt watched him, waiting for some sign of what they should do next. For a second, Scout seemed just as confused as Matt was.

  Then, in a flash, Scout rerouted. He shot off across the scalding ground, and Matt followed. Matt felt the heat through the soles of his boots and shuddered at the thought of Scout’s paws making direct contact with the embers. But the dog barely seemed to notice.

  Scout paused for a millisecond and looked over his shoulder, checking to see if Matt was following him.

  “I’m right here. Go, go, go!” Matt said. Scout sped up again and showed no signs of slowing down. He barreled forward, making sure Matt was still behind him.

  They ran for several minutes before the ground beneath their feet was dark and cool again. Scout slowed to a stop and paused, panting. His tongue dangled out of his mouth and his head hung down.

  Matt stopped next to him, gasping for breath himself. Scout leaned on Matt’s leg.

  “Thanks for saving me, pal,” Matt said. He scratched Scout under the chin. Scout snuffled and snorted and licked Matt’s palm.

  Matt looked around and realized they were in totally unfamiliar terrain. He pulled out his phone, but there was still no signal. He studied the peak of Mount Kit above them, trying to orient himself, but that wasn’t much use.

  He had no idea where they were in relation to the overhang or the trail.

  Which meant he had no idea where his friends were—or how to get back to his dad.

  His dad.

  Call me at the first sign of trouble. His dad’s words rang in his ears.

  Matt reached into his back pocket for the walkie-talkie.

  It was gone.

  “No!” Matt cried, kicking the ground. “No, no, no, no, no!” Matt buried his face in his hands and shook his head. The walkie-talkie must have fallen out while he was running.

  Matt felt queasy. Not only were he and Scout now lost, but his dad would fear that the worst had happened to them.

  Matt wanted to be brave, like his dad said he was. He wanted to feel proud, like he knew what the right thing was to do and had the courage to do it. But right now, he just felt confused and stupid and mad at himself for making a bad situation worse.

  Scout whimpered and swiped a paw at Matt’s knee. Matt took his hands from his face and looked down.

  Scout gazed up at him with big, round eyes. His fur was matted and filthy. His ears drooped. But there was something else in his expression too—something he was trying to tell Matt.

  “What is it?” Matt stared back at his dog. “I can’t help you, Scout. I got us into this mess, but I have no idea how to get us out. I can’t even hang on to a stinking walkie-talkie. Don’t wait around for me to figure it out.”

  But Scout just kept staring at him. Matt turned away, but every time he turned back, Scout was still there, still regarding him with that look.

  Slowly, it dawned on Matt what the look in Scout’s eye was: It was trust.

  Scout was waiting for Matt’s command, because Matt was his person—his alpha dog—and he would follow Matt to the ends of the Earth.

  Even though Scout was the one who had just saved Matt’s life, he still needed Matt.

  No, Matt thought. We need each other. Matt thought his heart would burst. He smiled weakly at Scout. “Thanks, buddy,” he whispered.

  Scout snapped his mouth in response, a silent bark to tell Matt to get it together and hurry it along.

  Matt was about to respond, but something weird started to happen—his vision got wavy. He blinked, but when he opened his eyes, things were even worse: Scout had started to fade from his vision. Matt couldn’t even see the neon patches on the dog’s vest.

  The sky was still lit up orange and red, but the world within Matt’s reach was growing hazy and dark. Matt strained to see—it was like someone had wrapped a blindfold over his face.

  Frantic, Matt took a few steps forward, but he nearly toppled over. Trying to right himself, he lurched a few steps in a different direction. He waved his arms in big swoops but touched nothing. Without his vision, Matt had immediately lost all sense of direction, all awareness of his own body in space. He could have been floating in a mist or suspended in amber, upside down or sideways.

  Even worse, Matt had no idea if all this smoke was the result of the wind changing—or if it meant the fire had ignited close by. He waited for the sensation of heat on his skin. None came.

  Matt dropped to the ground, where he knew the air would be clearer, and gulped in mouthfuls of oxygen. He lay down on his belly.

  But where was Scout?

  “Scout!” Matt called out. He heard one quick bark, but it was muted and far away. If Matt couldn’t see, then Scout couldn’t either.

  Matt squeezed his eyes and mouth shut. He pulled his shirt up over his face and held it there. His lungs ached. He tried not to cough, because every time he did, he sucked in more smoke.

  “Scout!” Matt called again. The effort triggered a coughing fit. When he was done, Matt heard his dog whimpering.

  “Scout, come!” Matt choked out. “Please. Follow the sound of my voice!”

  Scout barked. He was closer.

  “Good job, buddy!” Matt encouraged him. “Good. Come on. Come over here. Scout, listen to me. Just a little farther.”

  Scout’s sad whine was just a few feet away.

  “I’m right here, Scout. Right here! Come to me.”

  Matt heard Scout scuttling across the ground. He stretched his hands toward the sound and let out a cry of relief when his fingers brushed against fur.

  “Scout! I’ve got you.” Matt got up on his knees and reached out for the
dog. He wrapped his arms around Scout and pulled him in close. Scout was shaking from head to tail, and Matt could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

  Matt rested his head against Scout’s back and listened to the rapid rhythm of his breathing. “I’ve got you,” Matt said, burying his face in Scout’s thick coat. “I’ve got you.”

  13

  MATT LOST ALL SENSE OF TIME as he and Scout huddled together, blind to their surroundings. It was just a few minutes, but it felt like hours. Matt was on high alert, anxiously waiting for the smell of burning wood to grow stronger or for intense heat to reach him.

  But suddenly the wind shifted direction and the curtain of smoke began to lift. Matt looked around and saw the boulders and scrub right where they had been before.

  He blinked to clear his vision, his eyes watering. He tried to wipe the soot from his mouth, but his sleeve just spread more across his face. Everything smelled of smoke, from the air around him to his hair and clothing. Matt pulled a water bottle out of his pack. He took a swig, rinsing the bitter smoke taste out of his mouth, then held it out to Scout. Scout sucked down water from the bottle gratefully.

  Matt stood up, and Scout clambered to his feet. The dog snorted to clear his nose and shook himself out, his ears flapping against the side of his head. They stood side by side, surveying the endless mountainside around them.

  They had no way of communicating with his dad, and no way of knowing where they were.

  But, Matt realized, he had something even better: Scout.

  He pulled Dev’s climbing harness from his backpack again and held it out to Scout.

  Scout sniffed at it, then sat down.

  Matt wasn’t sure if Scout would be able to scent after breathing in all that smoke. The pungent smoke had crept into Matt’s mouth and nose and left a rancid taste behind. Surely it had done the same to Scout. Would Scout’s odor receptors still work, or would they be blocked completely?

  There was only one way to find out.

  “Scout,” Matt said hopefully, “search!”

  Scout dropped his head and got to work. He followed his nose in a zigzag pattern, moving out into the brush. He seemed like he had caught a scent, but Matt could tell that something wasn’t quite right. Scout was sniffing and scenting like he was trained to do. But he didn’t seem . . . confident. He sniffed, then paused, then sniffed again. He walked a few steps in one direction, sniffed, then came back to where he had started.