Wildfire

by Roxanne Rustand

  This was a beautiful place. Soaring pines. Cool, crisp mountain air. Through the trees to the west, he could see the first streaks of an amber and rose sunset. Of all the places he’d ever been, this would be the most beautiful place to die, surrounded by God’s glory.

  Funny, how after turning away from his faith since after Lara’s death, that he still felt a sense of peace and acceptance and comfort enfold him now…

  As if God were welcoming him home.

  He hitched himself back so he could lean against a rock, and folded his arms around his midsection.

  And then he bowed his head in prayer.

  “It was here,” Danny said. “I’m sure of it. Let me out.”

  The highway was narrow and curvy, bordered by steep, granite cliffs on the left and precipitous drop-offs on the right; the shoulder offering just scant inches of gravel between asphalt and air.

  Tessa stopped and let him climb out of her truck, then drove ahead slowly, frantically searching for a place where she could pull off the road. She finally found a safe spot a quarter mile past the curve and slammed on the brakes.

  Leaving the emergency flashers on, she clipped a can of bear repellent spray to her belt, grabbed a lariat and her rifle, and ran back to Danny.

  Her pulse raced as memories of Josh crowded through her thoughts, coupled with a burning sense of guilt for the resentment and anger she’d felt for him all those years ago. He couldn’t be dead.

  “See?” Danny pointed at a single skid mark that ran parallel to the road, then veered sharply toward the right. “And like I said, there isn’t any a sign of someone down there. The owner probably managed to bail before the bike went over and hitched a ride to town.”

  Tessa peered over the edge and fought back a sudden wave of nausea, imagining how terrifying it would be to crash like this. Far below, a trail of broken saplings and underbrush led to a crumpled and all-too familiar Harley.

  She swallowed hard, trying not to envision Josh, broken and bloody, his engaging laugh silenced forever. “The owner could’ve been thrown a good distance away.”

  “Maybe.” Danny paced the side of the road. “But there’s no easy way to get down there, and we’ve got a good view.”

  “Here.” Tessa tied the end of her rope to a tree and tossed the coils out into space. “Hurry!”

  Danny quickly descended, while she took out her cell phone and called 911, giving the exact location. Then she slung her rifle over her shoulder and followed him, wishing she’d exchanged her western boots for a pair of good ones meant for hiking.

  Brambles and sharp rocks tore at her clothes as she slowly made her way down. Her leather-soled boots slipped and she clung desperately to the rope and an outcropping for a moment to catch her breath.

  Once she hit the ground, she hurried over to the motorcycle, where Danny was crouching by the back tire. “The sheriff can check out the license plate,” he said. “But what do you think—should we go through these saddle bags? Maybe there’s some sort of identification.”

  His words seemed to be coming from a hundred miles away as she stared at the bike she’d ridden on so many times back in college, her arms wrapped around Josh’s flat, muscular midsection and her cheek resting against his broad back.

  It was his motorcycle, she had no doubt. The sinking sensation in her stomach nearly overwhelmed her. But dusk was settling fast. In a half hour, just making it back up that steep incline would be nearly impossible, and there was no time for emotion now.

  “Let’s check those later,” she managed. “We need all the daylight we can get, if we’re going to find this guy.” She pointed to the north. “Start over there—just go back and forth, slowly, and keep calling out for him. I’ll do the same here.”

  They scoured the area, fanning out wider and wider, until the light faded. Tessa tripped over a hidden stump and pitched forward into a scattering of rocks and downed branches. Something sharp bit into her palm and she cried out.

  Danny appeared out of the gloom and hunkered down at her side. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine—just a scrape.” She pressed two fingers against her palm to stop the bleeding.

  “Maybe we should just give up,” Danny said. “It’s too dark to see, and like I said, I really don’t think anybody’s down here. When the sheriff comes, maybe he can call for a search and rescue dog.”

  Logic told her that Danny was right, yet she just couldn’t walk away. Not yet. “I think that motorcycle belongs to an old friend, and I need to look a little longer. I just wish I’d thought to bring a flashlight, but I didn’t think we’d be down here this long.”

  “I’ll go up and get one.” He glanced up towards the highway. “Where’s that deputy, anyway?”

  “Busy, I’m sure.” Again, she began her painstaking search, half afraid she might trip over a body in the dark. Trying hard to fight back her memories of the crushing grief she’d felt years ago.

  She’d never wanted to see Josh Bryant again. Yet right now, she’d give anything to see him alive and well.

  Five minutes passed.

  Ten.

  Fifteen.

  The moon was just a sliver and cast faint light that filtered weakly through the heavy pine branches above.

  A bright beam of a light bounced crazily through the trees and soon Danny was at her side.

  “I could only find one flashlight,” he said, his voice somber. “But honestly—I think this is a waste of time.”

  The hair at the back of her neck prickled. “Did you hear that?”

  They both froze. After a long pause, Danny shook his head. “Maybe it’s just a marmot.”

  “At this elevation? I don’t think we’re high enough.” She heard another distant branch snap. “And that would have to be a world-class sized rodent.”

  “Maybe a coyote, then.” He started walking. “If it’s a bear, we’d better get outta here. Did you hear the news last week? A bear strolled into a campsite and mauled a twelve-year-old girl—dragged her right out of her sleeping bag, and that wasn’t more than five miles from here. Three adults had trouble scaring it off, and the DNR still hasn’t tracked down that bear.”

  “Wait.”

  She heard the sound again. The rustle of underbrush. Another twig snapping. She tensed. “Hello? Is anyone out there?”

  Danny paled, no doubt reliving the attack he’d experienced a few years back, but he stood his ground.

  “Here you go, Danny.” She unsnapped the can of bear repellent from her belt and tossed it to him, then cradled her rifle across her chest and turned on her flashlight. “Go up to the truck and watch for the deputy’s patrol car.”

  He glanced around, then stared in the direction from where they’d heard the noise. “You oughta come, too.”

  “I can’t leave until I finish checking this out, and I need to do it now.”

  “But—”

  “Go, Danny. I had to park quite a way down the road, so it could take that deputy a while to figure out where we are. The faster we get some help, the better.”

  She watched him disappear into the gloom, then listened for sound of his ascent up the cliff face. When he yelled out that he’d made it to the top, she breathed a sigh of relief.

  Turned.

  And heard the sound of something thrashing through the brush…coming closer.

  FOUR

  Tessa stilled and slowly moved her rifle from the crook of her arm into a ready position. Easing sideways, she toed at the dried grass underfoot to avoid stepping on anything that would make noise.

  A sudden, fitful breeze eddied through the trees, bringing with it the unmistakable coppery scent of blood. Her stomach lurched when the breeze picked up and the scent grew stronger, more cloying. Josh?

  She wavered.

  Not wanting to go farther.

  Knowing she had to, if there was still a chance that he could still be alive. Please Lord, if this is Josh, let him be all right. Help me bring him out of this safely.

&nb
sp; After a brief silence, she again heard the sound of something crashing through the brush, heading her way.

  Biting her lip, she moved more quickly, whispering a constant litany of prayer. If she could smell blood, any cougar, bear or coyote in the vicinity could, too—and it was a blatant an invitation to a free meal.

  Now, as she stepped around a rocky ledge, the odor hit her full-force, triggering a gagging reflex and making her stomach roil. And then, barely visible in the dim light, she saw it—a bloodied, mangled…corpse?

  She bit back a cry. Swung the flashlight into position and swept it across…

  A large buck.

  Likely, road kill that had gone over the edge of the highway, then dragged itself into the brush, given the odd angle of its hind legs. And if her guess was right, something big already had dibs on the carcass, and would fight to the death to defend its meal.

  She moved back, intending to give the deer wide berth and rapidly put it between her and the oncoming predator.

  Her boot hit something more yielding than the rocky, hard-packed ground. She angled the flashlight down…and this time, couldn’t hold back a scream.

  A pale, outstretched arm was lying in her path.

  “Josh—can you hear me? Josh!”

  A wave of pain rolled through him when someone grabbed at his shoulder and shook it. Insistent. Demanding. He fought his way up through a suffocating blanket of confusion and pain, then let himself slip back into the deep comfort of oblivion.

  “No,” that same voice whispered. “You’ve got to wake up. Now!”

  The voice was oddly familiar, though her words seemed to ricochet inside his head without any real meaning. He groaned. Then forced his eyes open and found himself looking up into a face lit with eerie highlights and shadows by a flashlight laying on the ground.

  All around was darkness.

  “Look, I know you’re hurt. You’ve lost a lot of blood. But you’ve got to get up. Now. We’re in a very bad place here. I have no doubt that a bear picked up our scents a long time ago, and that it’s very close by. Understand?”

  Tessa? He nodded—just once. The motion set off a renewed explosion of fireworks in his skull.

  “Help is coming. We just need to get as far away from that bear’s meal as we can.”

  Confusion swirled through his thoughts as she somehow dragged him to his feet and thrust a long, straight branch into his hand. She draped his other arm over her shoulders. One step. Another. Each sent a shock wave of pain through his damaged leg, despite the makeshift splint he’d made earlier.

  The bear was at the road kill now—he could hear the sounds of ripping flesh—and then it fell silent.

  Sniffing the air, maybe, and rising on his hind legs.

  The bear grunted as it crashed forward through the brush, then halted—a false charge, probably, intended to warn away any competition.

  Though an empty threat didn’t guarantee the next charge wouldn’t be for real.

  “Can you stand on your own?” Tessa said sharply. She loomed closer for a quick look at his face, then propped him against a tree. “Stay put.”

  A faint wash of moonlight filtered through the overheard canopy. He could see her pull her rifle from her shoulder and double check its load.

  The bear was close enough that Josh could detect its strong odor now, and he could hear it coming straight at them.

  “Hang on,” Tessa said. “I don’t think either of us is ready to wrestle any bears in the dark.”

  She aimed at the sky and the crack of rifle fire cut through the darkness like an explosion.

  Silence.

  Then she fired again and the bear beat a hasty retreat, barreling through the trees like a runaway bulldozer.

  “That bought us time, but we still need to get out of here.”

  “You’re…right,” he managed, trying to focus on where she stood.

  But the ghostly pale birch trees started to shimmer and sway, and the stars spun in the sky as the sharp report of the rifle magnified. Filled the terrain with mortar explosions and billowing sand and a deadly rain of rock and engine parts and bodies…and screams.

  Always the terrified, agonizing screams.

  His vision dimmed. And when he hit the ground, the earth felt like a welcoming embrace.

  Tessa sat on a hard plastic chair in the emergency room waiting area, offering a sympathetic smile to a young mother trying to calm the screaming baby in her arms.

  Standing up, she paced the small room, then went to the emergency room doors and stepped outside to breathe the cool night air.

  “Ms. McAllister? Is that you?” A young nurse hurried to Tessa’s side. “You aren’t leaving, are you?”

  Tessa turned, her melancholy thoughts turning to fear in an instant. “Is something wrong?”

  “They’re taking your friend into surgery. The surgeon wants to talk to you, right now.”

  “Me?”

  Nodding, the nurse spun on her heel and hurried away through the double doors marked No Admittance, and led Tessa to the first triage room, where Josh lay on a gurney with IV tubes dangling above him and a digital monitor marking his heart rhythm.

  Dark bruises were already forming on the right side of his face. A laceration angling from his forehead to temple had been closed with butterfly bandages—the wounds a garish contrast to his pale, almost gray skin.

  His eyes were closed. He lay perfectly still.

  And it took very little imagination to imagine that he was already dead.

  She’d once felt nothing but anger toward him, but now all she wanted was to see his long, dark lashes flutter open and to see those hazel eyes sparkle with laughter. Please God, be with him. Help him make it through this.

  A middle-aged woman in a white lab coat, with a stethoscope dangling around her neck, stepped away from the bed and offered her hand. “I’m Dr. West. Mr. Bryant said that he has no relatives here. I understand you’re a friend.”

  A friend. She was hardly that, but she understood the situation. “I guess so.”

  Two orderlies appeared at the door. At the doctor’s nod, they bustled into the room and began preparing the gurney for transport. Within seconds, they’d wheeled him away.

  “Josh has signed a release allowing us to share his information with you. The CT scan shows significant damage to his spleen. We can sometimes achieve healing through bed rest, but this looks like a Grade III injury. Given his lab values and escalating heart rate, this bleed is just too big for that.”

  The woman’s words seemed to be coming from far, far away. Tessa blinked and tried to focus. “So you’ll have to take it out? Isn’t that bad?”

  “A total splenectomy would place him at much higher risk for infections, so we’ll first go for a more conservative approach and try to repair it. Our orthopedist needs to surgically repair the tibia and fibula fractures. Your friend is actually a very lucky guy, from what I hear about that accident scene.”

  She tipped her head toward the X-rays mounted on a lighted screen, and even from a distance, Tessa could see multiple fractures just above Josh’s ankle.

  “Just sit tight,” Dr. West continued. “He has a good chance of coming through all of this without any permanent repercussions. Do you have any questions?”

  “Just a good chance?” Tessa asked, feeling faint. “Only that?”

  “There’s always risk with sustained blood loss. He’s shocky, so it’s urgent that we get that internal bleeding stopped, STAT.” The surgeon glanced at the clock on the wall. “They’re getting him prepped, and I need to get up there. The nurses will keep you informed.”

  “Th-thanks.”

  “By the way, the secretary has tried calling his family members out East, but she hasn’t had any luck so far. You’ll be here after surgery is over?”

  Tessa nodded.

  “It’ll probably take a couple hours, depending on what we find, and then he’ll be in recovery for at least an hour.” Dr. West gave her a sympathetic smile
. “If you want to run home and change your clothes or get something to eat, you’ll have time. The nurses can loan you some scrubs.”

  Clothes? Tessa looked back at her, feeling a flash of confusion.

  “From what I hear, you saved his life, you know. You can be very proud of that.” She rested a gentle hand on Tessa’s shoulder. “I know this has been a stressful night.”

  After the doctor hurried out of the room, Tessa glanced at herself in the mirror over the sink in the corner and drew in a sharp breath.

  Under the harsh lighting, her blood-stained shirt and jeans were an all-too vivid reminder of her frantic efforts to stem the flow of blood from Josh’s leg.

  The emergency vehicles had arrived twenty minutes after she’d found him semiconscious, his jeans and shirt soaked in blood, and his makeshift bandages doing little to stop the bleeding.

  Somehow, she’d completely blanked out on her own appearance until now.

  Feeling as if she were moving through a dream where the earth had just tilted sideways, she shivered and reached for the back of a chair, her hands clammy.

  It had been a long time since she’d regularly talked to God. Given her faltering faith and anger at Him, maybe He didn’t even want to hear from her now.

  He probably wouldn’t bother to help, because He sure hadn’t years ago when she’d needed him most.

  But seeing those orderlies wheel Josh away filled her with the most overwhelming fear she’d ever felt in her life since…

  Shoving those memories away, she gripped the back of the chair tighter and choked back the tears clogging her throat.

  Dear God—please, please help him. Not for my sake, but for his. Please…

  Josh shifted his weight awkwardly, hampered by the heavy cast on his left leg and IV line taped to his arm. The last two days had passed in a medication-induced blur of drowsiness, interspersed with visits by nurses who prodded and poked and took his temperature every hour, and lab techs who seemed to take special pleasure in drawing endless vials of blood.