Tempt the Flames (The Smokejumpers)

by Marnee Blake

  “Good luck.” Roger held out his hand, and Lance shook it. “I’m going to offer you some advice, even though you didn’t ask.”

  Lance laughed. Roger struck him as the “ask forgiveness, not permission” sort.

  “Leave the past alone.” He clasped Lance on the shoulder. “You aren’t your father, no matter what anyone might try to do to convince you otherwise.”

  There was no use in arguing with him, but that was easier said than done.

  He thanked Roger and headed to the house to get Meg. Roger’s words about the Buchanans echoed in his mind. They had changed. Will was angrier, Hunter more brooding. Meg…of all of them, Meg’s change might be the subtlest, but he could still see it. She was quieter, more thoughtful. More restrained.

  He reached into his pocket, fingering the thumb drive. He wondered if this would help…or ruin everything.

  * * * *

  “Should we listen to it now?” The thumb drive lay in the middle console, making Meg nervous. They were still parked in the Palance driveway. Considering she had no idea what they would find, she didn’t know if this was the appropriate place for major revelations about their fathers. “Why don’t we wait until we’re back to Stack Park?”

  Lance nodded, as if he understood her reservations. They drove in silence. As she stared out the window, she tried to run through how bad this could be. What could it possibly say? If the original reports had been inconclusive, there was nothing on that thumb drive that would prove otherwise. So why would Mr. Palance give them this information?

  As the tension continued, she started to wish that she would have refused when Lance asked her to tag along. Whatever they heard on those transmissions could change everything.

  They parked in their usual spot at Stack Park, and Meg inhaled, bracing herself as she reached for the drive and plugged it into the USB port in the rental. Might as well get this over with. She turned up the volume, and waited.

  Neither of them looked at each other as the transmission of the day their fathers died wafted through the speakers. The recording was exactly what she expected radio transmissions from a decade ago to sound like: gritty and barely understandable. They listened as the rudimentary motions of a fire jump recited through the car. And then…

  “Buchanan!” Hearing someone call her name struck her through the gut.

  “That’s the wrong side of the flame.” Meg couldn’t tell who was talking, but whoever it was sounded panicked. More than that, they sounded outraged.

  The next bit was garbled, full of shouting. “We need to go. On the east.”

  Erupting from the speakers, Lance’s father sounded exactly as she remembered, like a voice from the grave.

  “That’s the wrong side,” Jason Buchanan’s steady timbre answered, and she covered her mouth. “It’s wrong.”

  “No, the west, Roberts. Go.”

  That was the spotter, Ken Wassy. He’d passed away two years ago.

  There was more garble. Then, JT again. “We follow.”

  After that, the yells erupted again, all speaking over each other.

  From there, they listened as the pilot and spotter relayed back to the air center that three jumpers were going the wrong way. There was anger and fear, questions filled with concern.

  Two days later, rescuers would find their fathers dead.

  The remainder of the flight recording gave them nothing new. Eventually, Lance turned it off. The silence in the rental was heavy. “Lance…”

  “Stop.” He closed his eyes. “I can tell what you’re going to say. A lot of crap about how it’s not as bad as it sounds. You heard it, though. That’s not true.”

  She chose her words carefully. “I’m not sure what I heard.”

  “That was obviously my father, Meg.” His eyes found hers in the dying light, and the pain there burned through her. “You know that as well as I do. I’m not an idiot.”

  “Yes, but…” It wasn’t as clear as that. His father had mentioned jumping on the wrong side, but he didn’t explain why.

  “There are no buts. There’s nothing here. Nothing that changes what we didn’t already know. That was my dad, talking your dad into jumping on the east side.”

  “Yes,” she said. “It was.” There was no denying that truth. “But there was so much yelling, and not all of it was clear. Our fathers—” she glanced at the sunset. “They could speak without saying words. Like you and Hunter used to. There’s so much that could have been said without talking.”

  She didn’t know what else to tell him. If they had heard something that went against the investigation’s conclusions, Lance would keep looking. It would be safer if he gave this all up. If he stopped investigating, maybe whoever had it out for him would leave him alone. Maybe he would stay in Redmond, and they could be together.

  But that wasn’t true. Because she wasn’t sure he would stay if there was no change in the report’s conclusions. Would he stay if everyone still assumed his father was a reckless and endangering firefighter? Would he ever be able to step out from behind that shadow?

  Watching him learn nothing new was tearing her apart.

  “We can keep looking.” She reached out, gripping his forearm. She wanted to tell him everything she felt inside. That she loved him. That it didn’t matter what his father had done, that he wasn’t his father. But he was gone, sitting in the driver’s seat next to her. And she had never been so helpless.

  “Sure. Yeah, we can keep looking.” He lifted his arms to grip the steering wheel, effectively breaking their contact.

  She had resigned herself to the fear of losing him to the fire, but she had never expected to lose him to himself.

  He started the Jeep, and they drove the short distance back to the air center in silence.

  Chapter 19

  The morning of the last training jump dawned bright and cold. Even though it was the end of May, the recruits put extra layers on under their high-collared jumpsuits. There was rain predicted later, though, which meant the wind was picking up.

  No one spoke. Since Bates arrived at the center, any levity had been sucked out of the air. Most of them probably hoped that when they were fully minted, they would be safe from whatever danger was following Lance around. As if the end of training would equal the end of their troubles. Lance wasn’t so sure.

  Each of them packed their pockets and silently checked each other’s parachutes. As they loaded into the plane, the distance between him and the rest of the team was palpable.

  After this, he would face the future, the possibility that he would be leaving the air center. It wasn’t the worst option since his family history in Redmond made it hard for him to connect here. And after all the “accidents” he’d suffered through, the rest of the guys steered clear. He killed cohesion, and it might just be best if he left.

  After what he had heard last night on Palance’s recording, he’d been forced to admit this had been a fool’s pursuit. His father had definitely convinced Jason Buchanan to jump on the wrong side. He didn’t know why. Arrogance, probably. The Roberts men seemed to be saddled with it. Look at him. That was the only explanation for why he thought he could change things here.

  Keeping after his investigation into his father was pointless.

  Meg’s face flickered in his mind, her perfect features. He’d ruined it with her. Circumstances at training and in town might be out of his control, but he’d put the space between him and Meg. He’d created that divide and now all of his reasons to stay were gone.

  Maybe the best thing he could do now was land this jump, and then show Redmond the back of him.

  They ascended to their jumping altitude, the engines and wind sound drowning any other thoughts. The plane hit a bunch of turbulence, but none of them would be here if rocky trips into the sky bothered them. This jump would mimic the most complicated conditions. They would f
all into dense vegetation on sloped ground. Outside, the breeze was strong, but nothing unmanageable. He checked his gear one more time and nodded to Rock. They would be partnered this time.

  Except, when Tim stood up in front of them, he shook his head. “Change of plans. We’re going back.”

  “What?” Next to Lance, Sledge screamed over the engine noise. “Why?”

  “Lightning strike, twenty miles from here.” Tim pointed, farther north. He turned to the pilot. Lance couldn’t hear what they discussed, but it didn’t take much calculation to see what was happening.

  If they turned back, away from the lightning strike, they would backtrack. It would cost the veteran smokejumpers an hour they didn’t have. A lightning strike, even with the possibility of rain coming, was incredibly dangerous. The rain levels had been lower than average this spring, leaving dry conditions behind. Who knew what kind of damage would be done while they returned to the base or how far the fire would spread in that time?

  Lance studied the men around him. All of them looked frustrated, too. This wasn’t what they’d trained for, to let fires burn while they flew around, paralyzed by bureaucracy. They hadn’t finished their last jump, but they were ready. They were already here, and they were dressed to fight this. There were four recruits and four seasoned jumpers on the plane now, they could drop first, do their best to subdue the blaze while the pilot returned for backup.

  He stood, weighed down by all of his gear but determined. “We can do this,” he yelled at Tim. “We should go. To the strike point.”

  “I don’t know…” Tim shook his head. “You haven’t finished—”

  “If we wait, it gets bigger.” It was loud and there wasn’t time for a lot of words. Through the cage of his helmet, Lance held the trainer’s eyes, trying to say what would be too hard to yell. It was the same thing on every other recruit’s face in the plane. They could fight this blaze.

  Tim looked over his shoulders, probably to the other four veterans. Finally, he nodded. His jaw firm, he clasped Lance on the shoulder. “Yes. We go.”

  Lance sat back down as Tim turned to fill in the pilot. A zing of adrenaline shot through him, drowning out the sound of the engine accelerating. This was what they trained for, and they were ready.

  Less than five minutes later, the streamers that read the wind direction were lobbed out of the open plane door. Below, they swayed, signaling a westward blow. Tim stood, scanning the blaze beneath them. “We jump to the back and attack from the right.” He motioned. “Land there.”

  They all nodded. He pointed at Sledge. “Go.”

  Sledge moved into the door. He waited for Tim’s slap on the shoulder, and when it came, he launched into the air. Dak followed him out. After them, Tim sent two of the veterans, including Will. Then, it was Lance’s turn.

  He sat in the door, waited for his pat on the back, and threw himself out into the wind.

  The fire wasn’t big, but it already had a bite. It oscillated in the breeze slowly, like it was doing the hula. The burn swirled as if to say, I’m calm now, but soon I will rage.

  As he turned his attention to steering and finding a landing position, he spied a cabin tucked behind the trees. He lost sight of it as he maneuvered his parachute, but the stakes increased exponentially. If there was anyone in there, they needed to get them out. The fire would march over it. The hair on his arms stood up.

  They’d been right to come.

  He landed without hitting a tree—thank God—and gathered his parachute, already stripping out of his jumpsuit. As he stowed his gear, he prepared to fight the flame, like he’d been taught. Lizard, the most senior veteran among them, joined him. He yelled to him over the fire. “There’s a cabin. Did you see it?”

  Lizard nodded, his mouth grim. “It’s in the path.”

  Lance glanced toward the smoke in front of him. “I can go. Around. Check it.” It was a request, because technically, Lizard was in charge. He could choose to release him to go or not.

  “It’s too dangerous. We still don’t have a good read on how fast this one is moving.”

  “I know. But it’s more dangerous for anyone stuck inside that cabin.”

  Lizard glanced at the flames once more, then toward the cabin. “Take Will. You two are the fastest runners.” He narrowed his eyes on Lance. “Do you have your shelter?”

  They all carried the aluminum and fiberglass tent-style shelters, designed to give a wildland firefighter a last resort to protect themselves against the flames.

  He nodded. “Of course.” After what happened to his father—that he and Jason Buchanan were found sharing one, the other missing—there was no way he’d ever leave it behind.

  “Good.” He turned to Will, his jump partner. “Buchanan. You’re going to go check out that cabin with Roberts.”

  Lance didn’t make out Will’s exact words, but his tone was sharp. Obviously, he wasn’t pleased with getting paired with Lance. Lizard’s rebuke said he wasn’t hearing any drama today. “I don’t care what’s between your families. You guys do your job and get back safe, got that, rookie?”

  “Loud and clear.”

  “Good. Then, go.”

  As Lance set off at a run, Will fell in behind him. Lizard was right. They had work to do. Their history didn’t matter right now.

  At the base of the hill where he was certain he’d seen the cabin, he paused. Catching his breath, he shielded his eyes from the sun. The burn wasn’t more than a few hundred yards behind them, moving toward the cabin fast. “I think it’s up there, beside that outcropping of rocks.”

  Will nodded, not making eye contact. Lance rolled his eyes. Great. They were supposed to be a team, and the guy wouldn’t even look at him. He forced his frustration down, refocusing on his work.

  He hurried, scrambling up the embankment in front of him. Rounding the rock cove he’d spotted, his throat tightened, his stomach churning. The cabin was here, all right. In front of him, the flames had already found the cabin. A man stood with a fire extinguisher, trying to force them back, but it was like David and Goliath. Inside, he heard crying.

  “There’s someone in there,” he yelled to Will. “We need to go.” He started to run toward the cabin. Will stepped in front of him, pushing him in the center of his chest to stop him.

  “No, you need to stay. I’ll go in, and you go to help the man.”

  “There are people inside, Will.”

  “And I don’t trust you. We split up. You help him. I’ll get them myself.”

  Lance would have argued any other time. But, it was clear that the man needed help and even more apparent that Will wouldn’t accept his.

  That he would never accept him.

  Lance turned away, sprinting across the field. He unstrapped his gear, preparing to remove the brush and fuel from the fire’s path, their only chance to buy Will and whoever was inside any time. “Keep the spray on the burn. I’ll do what I can to make a line.”

  Even as he threw his back into the physical labor, the adrenaline of being so close to the flames humming through his blood, he couldn’t hide from reality. They shouldn’t have split up. It was more dangerous this way.

  If the team didn’t trust him—even a few of them—then how was he supposed to do his job?

  He ratcheted up his effort, digging and cutting in a frenzy.

  The sound of splintering wood sliced through the air, and Lance paused, turning toward the cabin. The scene in front of him was straight out of a horror movie.

  Against the backdrop of swirling flames around them, the house collapsed from the middle in, like a balloon deflating.

  Chapter 20

  “What do you mean they’re lost?” Meg paced in front of Joe’s desk. “What happened?”

  “I’m still waiting on details, Meggy.” Joe pointed to his cell phone on the desk next to him. “The guys in the tower
will call me. That’s how this works.”

  He’d told her that already, but she couldn’t sit still. She’d come in, even though she didn’t have to today, because she wanted to finish her talk with Lance. She didn’t care if he didn’t have anything else to say, she wasn’t done with this. She refused to give up on them.

  But, the morning had gone from waiting for the jumpers to return, so she could talk with Lance, to something out of her worst nightmares.

  “There are only four seasoned jumpers in that group. They aren’t prepared, don’t have the gear for this specific fire.” She paced, unable to sit down or stand still.

  “I know. They have enough to get started. Pete and Tim are coming back with the plane. They’ll go back then, and take the rest of the jumpers and equipment with them.”

  On the desk, his phone buzzed. Joe lifted his finger to her, giving his attention back to the phone at his ear. He made a bunch of appropriate grunts, meant to tell the speaker he was following along. Then he said, “They did? Okay. Keep me posted.”

  He lowered the phone, disconnecting. “The fire’s still burning, but they have it under control. There’s a bigger issue. Lizard sent Will and Lance to check what he thought was an abandoned cabin on the hill behind the lightning strike.” Joe shook his head. “They haven’t come back yet.”

  “No.” Will and Lance, both unaccounted for. Her pulse beat loud and hollow in her ears. “They’re okay, though, aren’t they?”

  His eyes were sympathetic. She hated it. “I don’t know yet. Lizard sent someone to check on them.”

  She buried her hands in her messy ponytail. Probably looked like a crazy woman. Matched how she felt. “Why are they even there in the first place? This was supposed to be the last training jump. What made them think that they should go to a lightning strike?”

  “Come on, now. Think clearly. It would’ve taken them longer to come back and switch for veteran jumpers. We both know this last jump was a formality. All four of them were ready to pull numbers for the jump list.” He exhaled, clearly frustrated. “I would prefer there were more veterans on this jump, but I’m hoping the fact that they got there faster will offset the lack of experience on the plane.”