A few seconds later, an emergency alert alarm shrilled from my phone. This was no drill.
Jumping from the counter stool, a moment of panic forced me to take stock of the situation. The animals. I had to get them in the car. Swooping up Sweetpea, I ran with him into the foyer where I shoved him head first into his dog carrier. It was part of my new tough love regimen and so far it seemed to be working like a charm.
Seconds later I returned to the kitchen to find my trusty sidekick, Hercules, cowering under the table. I forced myself to calm down enough to communicate with him, even though what I really wanted to do was freak the hell out.
“Hey there, Herc, you want to play a game?” I cooed, forcing out an animated, baby voice to control the shakiness in my own. “Let’s play.” He lifted his head in cautious interest before deciding I was full of shit and lowering it back to the stone floor. Herc weighed in at a hundred and twenty pounds. If he didn’t want to move, there was nothing I could do to make it happen.
“Mandatory Evacuation is in effect.” The blare of the bullhorn penetrated the walls as fire trucks drove up the street warning residents of the approaching threat. “Leave the area immediately.”
Fingers of dread clenched around my heart. “Please,” I begged my four-legged friend. When he didn’t move, I screamed, “Hercules!”
So much for my sweet voice. I now sounded like one of those evil Chucky dolls. But that didn’t work either. So I plastered on a fake smile. “You want turkey, Herc?”
He lifted his nose in attention as I swung open the refrigerator and began flinging turkey slices all over the floor. That did the trick. The Saint Bernard’s stomach took precedence over his survival instincts and he followed the processed meat like a duck waddling after a trail of breadcrumbs. I led him straight to the foyer where Sweetpea was waiting, and attached a leash to his collar. Ushering the boys outside and into my car, I caught sight of the fire, the orange glow closer than I could have imagined.
A firefighter entered through the front gate and jogged up the circular driveway.
“There’s no time,” he called to me. “You need to evacuate now. How many are in the house?”
“Just me.”
“Do you need help?”
“No, I’m leaving in a minute.”
“Alright, I’ll open the security gate for you. Be quick.”
“I will.”
He slid open the fence for me before taking off for the neighbor’s property. I shut the car door on the dogs and went back into the house in search of Lucy. I hadn’t seen her since the phone rang and now she could be anywhere. If I thought Hercules was tough to lure out of hiding, Lucy would be nearly impossible.
I called her name repeatedly, checking the most obvious places first but the cat was nowhere to be found. With every bed I looked under and every closet I checked, the likelihood I’d find her before being forced to evacuate were diminishing.
“Lucy,” I called to her, tears stinging my eyes. “Please don’t make me leave you.”
But she didn’t answer or magically appear, and I’d run out of time. An explosion rocked the ground and smoke wafted through the house. The increased intensity of the situation no doubt had Lucy terrified. If she were determined to hide, I’d never find her.
Running to the ten-year-old boy’s room, I grabbed the rat cage and carried it to the front door before making my way back into the kitchen for the last of my charges, a goldfish named Winston. Checking the recycle bin, I found a large Gatorade bottle, rinsed it out and poked some holes in the top of the plastic before pouring the goldfish and his water into the bottle.
I took one last look around for Lucy, but she was nowhere in sight. The only thing I could do for her now was to leave the front door open and give the poor cat a fighting chance. Sadly, the indoor kitty had never stepped foot outside and this would not be a good night to start exploring.
I sprinted down the hall to the guest room, gathered up my clothes and iPad and tossed everything into my open duffle bag. An irritated meow sounded from the hollows.
“What the…?” I gasped, catching a disgruntled Lucy in mid-flight as she tried to jump out of my bag. “Oh no you don’t.”
Apologizing profusely the entire time, I aggressively shoved the squirming cat back inside the tote and secured the zipper. Although Lucy might not agree with my current methods, had she understood the alternative, which was a vigorous charbroiling, I’m sure she would’ve been totally cool with the whole ‘kicking back in my undies’ experience.
Over her aggravated howling, I shouted, “You can thank me later.”
Slinging the bag over my shoulder, I ran for the exit.
* * *
My eyes fluttered open, confusion and pain swimming just beneath the surface. Touching my forehead, pain radiated from a large goose egg. I tried to recall what had happened… and why my car was now smashed accordion-style into a stone retaining wall mere feet from the opened security gate. The impact had deployed the airbag, now semi-deflated and billowing around me.
Warm breath and moisture on my face. Blood? No, it was Hercules licking my face. His tongue bath had probably been what woke me in the first place. But why was he in the front seat with me? Had the intensity of the collision sent him flying over the seats or had he jumped over after the fact?
“Are you guys all right?” I asked, running my hand over Herc’s floppy ears. Twisting around, I spied Sweetpea’s carrier on the ground, wedged between the seats. His incessant yapping let me know the little dog was still alive.
Pieces of my memory abruptly resurfaced. Something on fire had crossed my path as I was driving off the property, maybe an animal, maybe a tumbleweed. Instead of hitting the moving target, I’d swerved, and that’s how I ended up here—crushed up against a landscaping wall.
One by one, I moved my limbs, encouraged by the mobility and lack of pain. I was okay. Yes. Okay. But then I caught sight of the smoke and ash whizzing by at dizzying speeds. No, not okay. Nothing was okay. I was still in the middle of the nightmare—only now the flames were raging, having burned over the ridge and pushed their way forward through the backyard of the neighbor’s place. I could feel the heat all around me.
“Oh god,” I breathed out, turning the key in the ignition as I prepared to drive the mangled car to safety. But no matter how hard I tried, the engine wouldn’t turn over. My Ford Edge was done for, determined to meet its end in a blaze of glory.
It was then that the full weight of the crisis hit me. When I’d first been loading up the animals, cars were still driving by, fleeing the fire, but as I sat unconscious in my totaled vehicle, the exodus seemed to have passed me by. Gone were the headlights crossing through the dark. Gone were the firefighters going door-to-door canvassing. All that was left up here in this coastal mountain living community was me, a car full of animals, and a monstrous fire gobbling up the world around me.
If I was going to see another day, I had to make it happen myself. Opening the car door, I eased out from behind the wheel. Not waiting for an invitation, Hercules squeezed by my butt and was out the door. I half expected him to take off and save himself, but like the loyal teddy bear he was, my canine companion stood by my side, awaiting further instruction. He wasn’t about to abandon me, and neither would I forsake him and his furry siblings.
Flinging my kitty filled duffle bag and Sweetpea’s carrier over my shoulder, I grabbed the rat cage and balanced Winston on top of it all with my chin before leading my circus of sorts out the front gate and down the street. Had I been more mindful of my own perilous situation, I might have thought twice about saving my helpless charges. But I wasn’t thinking of just myself. The animals were scared, and I wasn’t going to just leave them to die.
Of course, that was before the choking smoke attacked my throat. Before the oxygen in the air began to evaporate. And before I realized I might just die on this windy, hilltop road with a gaggle of pets by my side.
I knew what needed to be done,
even before the thought fully formed. In order to give myself a chance, I had to set the animals free. I hated the idea of them running terrified into the night, but consoled myself with the knowledge that they were faster than me and stood a better chance at survival free from their restraints.
Carrying my living baggage away from the road, I solemnly began to unburden myself of the weight that held me down. Setting the rat cage onto the ground, I pulled off the towel and opened the door flap, shaking the bars to jar them into action.
“Go.” I urged, but the normally sociable rats cowered in the back of the cage, too afraid to move. They would, when they had no choice.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, and I truly was. I’d tried. I really had.
Placing Winston on the ground next to the cage, I said a quick goodbye.
Next came Sweetpea. Opening his carrier, I gently pulled him out and gave him a kiss between his Yoda ears. He seemed too disoriented to go for my jugular.
“Save yourself,” I whispered to him. The Chihuahua stood transfixed looking to me for guidance. I had nothing left to give him. “Run, Sweetpea. Go.”
As I unhooked Herc’s leash, the Saint Bernard stared up at me with big brown eyes, so trusting in my ability to save him. I couldn’t. Just as his brother was doing now, Hercules stood beside me, refusing to leave.
Tears rolling down my cheeks, I patted his head for what I assumed was the last time, then shoved him away. “Go!” I screamed. “Run!”
But he wouldn’t leave. One look into his soulful eyes told me he’d be my companion to the bitter end. “Okay,” I whispered. “You boys can run with me if you want but, just know, I’ll only slow you down.”
Pulling the duffle bag off my shoulder, I had one last pet to free. Lucy—my spirit animal. My heart ached knowing I’d be sending her to her death. She had no experience in the outside world and no real chance at survival without me. With dread, I unzipped the bag and reached in to pull her out. But as she emerged, her terrified crystal blue eyes dilated to a dark black, I just couldn’t do it. Not yet. I still had some strength left in me for her. Keeping hold of her collar, I emptied my duffle bag of belongings until the only weight left for me to carry was the nine-pound cat. I zipped her back in and slid the bag over my shoulder once more before I started running down the sidewalk, Sweetpea and Hercules lapping at my heels.
We hadn’t made it but one house down when I saw the lights of a car flooding through the smoke. I wasn’t sure if I was imagining things until I heard the crunch of the tires against the asphalt. Screaming for the dogs to stay put, I dropped the duffle bag and ran screaming into the street, flailing my arms wildly in the air. The driver was moving fast, making me more determined to hitch a ride. But when it became apparent the car was barreling straight for me, my excitement waned. I hastily jumped out of the way as brakes screeched and the stench of burned rubber mixed with all the other scorching smells of the night.
As it worked to avoid me, the car’s left tire ended up on the curb before coming to a complete stop. I searched for the dogs, hoping they hadn’t been hit. In seconds they were once again crowding around my feet. The driver-side window lowered, revealing a man who looked every bit as traumatized as I felt.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his words heavy with remorse. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you.”
I nodded stupidly, staring at him with unblinking eyes. A thick layering of ash had settled into his hair, giving it the same grayish tint as my elderly fiancé, Hugh. My gaze dropped to his bare chest, and further to his washboard abs. In any other situation it might have been a nice touch to be saved by a half-naked Abercrombie model. But he was no model. My rescuer was none other than Bodhi Beckett, of AnyDayNow fame.
7
Bodhi: Like The Wind
If I thought the danger level would decrease the further down the road I got, I was wrong. It was coming at me from all angles as the tiny red ashes zipped by faster than my car could drive. It was because of this craziness that I almost missed the woman in the street, waving frantically for me to stop. I slammed on my brakes as she hurtled her body out of the way of my oncoming vehicle.
Reeling from the near miss, I rolled down my window to apologize, but the woman just stood there in a daze.
“Do you need a ride?” I asked. That was apparently the correct question to snap her out of whatever stupor she was in.
“Yes,” she answered, her voice cracking with emotion. “I…I need a ride.”
Along with a bleeding bump on her forehead, she had dried tear-trails etching lines in the soot on her face. Judging by her appearance and by the fact that she was escaping on foot, her evening probably hadn’t been much better than mine.
“Get in, I’ll take you down the road.”
“Oh, thank you so much. I have my pets.”
She motioned to the dogs standing beside her.
“Yeah, that’s fine. Get them in too.”
But instead of opening the back door she said. “I’ll be right back.” Before I could offer a protest, she told the dogs to stay put and took off up the street. The mutts didn’t obey, giving chase as she called over her shoulder to me, “Just give me one minute, please.”
One minute? In my newly acquired fire escaping experience, one minute was the time it took for a roof to cave in. “Wait! Where are you going?”
“I’ve got to get the others. Please, please wait.”
The others? There were more people escaping on foot? Well shit! You’d think she’d have led with that information.
Pushing the door open wide, I jumped out and dashed after both her and the dogs. I found the woman bent over a cage. “Thank god.” I heard her sigh before replacing the towel over the top and grabbing for a leash lying on the ground. After hooking it onto the big dog’s collar, she handed me the reigns.
“Can you take Hercules back to your car. I’ll get the others.”
And when I looked down, I realized the others weren’t human, which was currently the only species I was willing to risk my ass for.
“There’s no time. We’ve got to go. Now!”
“Please,” she pleaded, tears filling her eyes. “I can’t leave them.”
Something about her desperation kept me from bolting back to my car. Maybe it was that she was committed to a cause other than herself. That’s more than I could ever claim. “Okay. Hand me another one. But hurry.”
She picked up the tiny dog and unceremoniously dumped him into a carrier. “Here. He bites so don’t put your fingers in there.”
Yeah right. It wasn’t like I was going to get all touchy-feely with the Taco Bell dog while the world around me burned to the ground. Besides, the little mongrel looked psychotic. The minute I grabbed hold of the handle to his carrier, he was growling and attacking the flimsy bars.
Reaching my car, I opened the door and the massive dog wasted no time jumping into my backseat. The nippy pup wasn’t nearly as accommodating. And as I placed his carrier onto the seat, he attacked the crate, nearly biting my damn finger off.
“Fuck you, Little Dick.” I retracted my hand in the nick of time. I was never a dog person, and even less so now that the shrunken canine was hell bent on mutilating me. “Watch it, Yappy. I’m not invested in you at all so keep that shit up and see where it gets you.”
My eyes met Hercules’s, and I was forced to do a double take. He was looking between his canine brother and me with an almost humanlike expression of frustration on his face.
“Are you seeing this too?” I asked him. “Is he always such a jerk?”
The big dog leaned toward me like he had a secret to share and, no joke, I met him halfway thinking he might actually have something juicy to tell. But then he morphed back into a regular, dumb dog and gave me the soggiest tongue lashing I’d ever experienced in my life. It was as if I’d left my window down at the car wash and the rotating mop reached in and took a swipe at my face.
“Oh my god, dude,” I complained as I wiped the slobber off
with the back of my arm. “Keep that thing in your mouth from now on, you hear me?”
The woman was already at the car trying to get the hatchback open. “Is it locked?” she asked, panicked eyes darting to mine.
“Wave your leg under the back bumper.”
“Huh?”
I mimed for her the correct foot movement to open the trunk, but she just looked pissed by the technological advances keeping her from… well… advancing.
“I’m not a magician,” she complained, thrusting the cage into my arms. “Here, can you wave the rats into your trunk?”
I would have laughed at her bitchy response had she not uttered the word rat. Like I said earlier, I wasn’t a dog person, but if the choice was between a dog and a rat, I’d pick the canine every single time. Why would anyone keep rats for pets? And more importantly, why would anyone try and save them in a fire? Did she not realize how many of their rodent countrymen died every damn day in lab experiments? It’s not like the world would miss two more. But with no time to argue, I waved my leg and the trunk immediately opened, allowing for the cage to be slid into the back with ease.
“Is that it?” I asked.
But she was already gone, sprinting back to the sidewalk where I’d nearly ran her down. “One more.”
I checked the position of the fire, which was not only behind us, but to the side of us and down the road from us as well. We were in the center of a giant firepit that had breached its barriers. Under my breath, I unleashed a volley of swear words. If I died because of lab rats and Little Dick, I was going to be eternally pissed.
“We have to go!” I yelled.
“I know,” she said, already running back in my direction. “I’m really sorry. Thank you so much for waiting.”
She was carrying a duffle bag and in her right hand was a bottle of Gatorade. I reached out to take the tote, but she sidestepped me.
“I got it. This bag has claws.”
Just as she was sliding the wiggling bag into the hatchback next to the rats, we both jerked our heads in the direction of an explosion. The house next door was blazing. After exchanging horrified expressions, we slammed the trunk and raced for the safety of the car.
Like The Wind Page 8