Wilderness Passion

by Lindsay McKenna

  “A forest fire. A big one! God, we gotta get out of here. Fast!” he cried, nervously throwing his gear into his pack.

  Anxiously, Libby looked first at the fire, which stretched horizon to horizon, and then at Bates. His movements were bordering on panic, his hands trembling. When he came to the broken radio, he threw it away in disgust.

  Libby’s face drew into tense lines. “No one can reach us....” she said, alarm eating away at her brittle calm. She turned, staring up at the orange-colored sky. Dan’s words came floating back to her: If you’ve never been in a forest fire, you can quickly become disoriented. Forcing herself to remain calm despite Trevor’s hysteria, Libby tried to think coherently.

  “Trevor, get me the map. We’ve got to try to make our way to Camp Three. If we reach it, we can radio for help.”

  Shakily, Bates did as she suggested for once, without an argument. They knelt on the dry ground, huddled over the map. Libby caught the first whiff of smoke in the air and it sent her heart racing with fear. She traced the route toward the camp with her finger.

  “It’s here. We have to go in a south—southeast direction, Trevor.” Her mind raced with possibilities. They were many miles south of their camp. Had Dan already mounted a search for them? It would be impossible to spot them from the air beneath the umbrella of forest trees.

  “That camp is fifteen miles away!” Bates cried, sweat popping out on his brow. “We’ll never make it! We have to go north, back to my camp. They’ll rescue us there.”

  “No, we’ll be walking right back into the arms of the fire. We can’t spend half a day moving toward it, Trevor. That’s suicide!”

  The wind was picking up, coming from a northwesterly direction. Libby was sure it was pushing the fire just that much faster toward them. The sky was clear of the thunderstorms that had plagued her sleep the night before. Rain would not come to rescue them.

  “We’ll never make it to that camp, Dr. Stapleton!” Bates said, growing firmer, though he trembled visibly as he watched the sky growing a brighter orange. “I’m going back! I don’t care what you do.”

  Libby gazed up at him, stunned by his decision. “You’re crazy,” she said stiffly, getting to her feet. “I’m going to head toward Camp Three. When I get there, I’ll send word that you’re working your way back to your camp.”

  Bates gave her a round-eyed look of disbelief. “I’m crazy? You’re crazier! You’ve got an eight-thousand-foot-high ridge and a narrow valley to cross in order to get to that camp! A person could die of a heart attack at this altitude trying to cover that kind of terrain at a fast pace!”

  Libby gave him a glare. “It’s better than being roasted alive by going back to your camp! Are you coming or not?”

  Bates stubbornly shook his head. “No. You’ll never make it. You’re signing your death warrant, Doctor.”

  She flung him a grim smile, quickly walking over and picking up her pack. “Do me just one favor, Bates. If they do happen to get to you first, tell them my intended route so I can be rescued.”

  He nodded, suddenly becoming calmer. “Certainly. Good luck,” he said.

  She nodded, quickly packing only essential items, such as the first-aid kit, her canteen of water, a lightweight blanket and enough food to hold her for one day’s worth of travel. “Good luck to you, too,” she said, shrugging on the pack and nimbly tightening the straps so that it was resting comfortably on her shoulders and hips. Taking up the map and giving her compass one more check, Libby headed off in the direction of Camp Three, tossing one last look over her shoulder. Trevor Bates looked small and somehow like a gnarled old man as he slowly started up the hill toward his camp. You’re a fool, she muttered to herself, turning and beginning to jog slowly down the incline.

  She tried to remember everything Dan had taught her. As Libby jogged along, she tied the red bandana around her forehead. The sweat was already beginning to trickle down the side of her jaw. Fifteen miles... She didn’t want to think of it as a lump sum. Setting her wristwatch, she tried to figure out how much time it would take to jog a mile. The incline would soon level out into a large meadow. She could make more time there. But would her body allow it? Libby hadn’t exercised since her first hike into the wilderness. Her breath was coming in short gasps and she slowed even more to conserve her energy for the long climb ahead. Had she made the right decision? Already half of the dawn had been eaten up by the orange glow. The smell of smoke was prevalent now, the wind carrying the odor from the northwesterly direction.

  It took an hour to cross the meadow and begin the climb up the steep ridge, which was dotted with huge granite formations. Sweat trickled down between her breasts, her T-shirt, already soaked from her exertions, clinging to her skin. Talking to herself, Libby tried to keep calm and clear-sighted. But every time she looked over her shoulder at the orange sky, panic shot through her. The wind was changing erratically now and increasing in gustiness. She worried about Trevor. An ugly, unsettled feeling stayed with her, and Libby didn’t know if she was feeling danger for herself or for Bates.

  Libby halted at noon, sobbing for breath. Her body was trembling, on the verge of collapse from the hard physical exertion of the climb. She stood on the crest of the ridge, the wind drying the perspiration on her glistening face. Looking north, she could clearly see yellow flames on the horizon. Her heart was pounding with fear, but she felt sadness, too; it was her forest, her trees, being destroyed by the monstrous fire. Tears trickled down her face, creating white paths through the grime and sweat. She shaded her eyes, trying to pick out the far ridge where Trevor was supposed to be. The fire seemed so close to Bates’s camp that it sent a spasm of fear through her. Bates would die. He would die because of his own stupidity. Libby took a small sip from her canteen, grateful for Dan’s warning about drinking too much water too quickly. Small sips taken frequently would be better absorbed by her dehydrating body.

  She stood, resting one booted foot on a boulder, looking skyward. There, far above her, she could see what looked like World War II bombers flying toward the line of flames. Dan had mentioned that they would drop borate, a substance to smother the fire. Libby turned, realizing that she couldn’t rest if she wanted to outrun the flames. Snapping the canteen back on the belt, she began her descent into the V-shaped valley below. Libby worried about Dan. He couldn’t know what had happened between her and Trevor. Was he trying to find them? She knew he was. Just knowing that Dan was somehow trying to locate and rescue them gave her an incredible sense of calmness as she slipped and slid down the steep mountain on the dry bed of pine needles that covered the ground.

  “Dammit, get one of those choppers back in here,” Dan snapped at his foreman. “I’ll go up myself!”

  The base camp was a command center for the US Forest Service and firefighters who were being trucked in to halt the wildfire. Jeeps, trucks, bulldozers and hundreds of men milled around, waiting to go to the fire. Dan cursed, jerking on his hard hat and leaving the trailer to get to the radio. It was nearly one in the afternoon, and the sky was now a dull orange tinged with black. He had not slept all night, trying without success to locate Libby and Bates. At dawn he had sent a chopper to their camp, but no one had been there. Why hadn’t they answered their radio? He cursed, taking long strides toward the radio tent that had been erected at the end of the string of mobile offices. He saw another large transport plane land—that meant smoke jumpers. He swallowed hard, his eyes narrowing as he ducked under the tent flap.

  “Jake, raise Brent. Tell him to get back in here immediately. I want the chopper refueled and then I’m going back up with him,” he ordered.

  Jake nodded. “Right, boss. Brent’s combing Ridge 256 one last time. They got fire reported at Bates’s camp.” He grimaced. “If they went back there...” He didn’t finish, watching Wagner’s face grow black with anger.

  “Forget 256! It’s gone,” Dan snarled. “Tell Brent to fly southwest on his way in and hightail it back here, pronto!”

&nbs
p; “Right!”

  Libby! Libby! he screamed in his head. Dan walked more slowly back toward his office. His stomach churned in fear as he thought of all the nightmarish possibilities. Knowing Bates, he guessed that the idiot would lose his head. But Libby wouldn’t. She had been too good a student. Had she headed toward Camp Three? It was their only hope. What if Trevor had persuaded her to take some other course of action? Dan’s eyes revealed his anguish as he halted, taking the hard hat off his head and wiping away the sweat on his brow. Dammit! I love you, Libby. I can’t lose you. Not like this. God, I’ve just found you.... He raised his chin, glaring in anguish up at the orange sky. Why hadn’t he told her he loved her? Why hadn’t he said it two nights ago, when she’d lain in his arms after they had made such wonderful, passionate love?

  “Dan! Dan!” Jake yelled excitedly. “Come here! Hurry!”

  Dan turned, jogging back to the tent. Jake’s face was drawn with triumph. “They found Bates! Brent just radioed in. He’s got a visual on him.”

  Dan’s face became intent “Libby? What about her? The company biologist. Is she with him?” he demanded.

  Jake shrugged. “Brent said one person.”

  Dan went to the map. “What are the coordinates?” he snapped, his heart sinking. He had a gut instinct that Bates and Libby weren’t together. Grimly he pursed his lips as Jake read off the longitude and latitude. Dan quickly traced it with his finger on the map. “Bates is south of his camp,” he muttered. They had searched north of the camp for three hours the day before, trying to find them. At midnight a series of thunderstorms had raged across the Salmon River Mountains and the forests had been turned into a roaring inferno. Dan was helpless to understand why Libby hadn’t returned to Bates’s camp. Had bears chased them? A cougar? Terrifying thoughts had haunted him throughout the night as he mounted a search effort to locate Libby and Bates before the approaching line of forest fire reached them. “That area is directly in front of the fire.”

  Jake nodded. “Brent said the chopper’s heating up due to the intensity of the fire front. He was going to radio in once he picked up Bates. We should hear soon....”

  Dan didn’t wait for the scientist to say anything when they landed. He met the chopper, ignoring the clouds of billowing dust kicked up by the rotor, jerking the door open and hauling out the disheveled Bates. He dragged the man away from the chopper. Once clear he yelled, “Where’s Libby?”

  Trevor cringed before Wagner. His clothes were dirty and bedraggled, torn as he had sought to outrun the fire. He sobbed, his hands and arms bloodied by his flight through thickets and heavy brush. “I don’t know!” he wailed.

  Dan’s eyes narrowed into angry slits as he grabbed Bates’s shoulders, shaking him. “What the hell do you mean, you don’t know, Bates? Did you leave her?” he roared.

  Bates was a rag doll in Dan’s hands. “No! No! She was going to try to make it to Camp Three. I told her she was crazy! We didn’t stand a chance of making fifteen miles before that fire reached us!”

  Dan’s eyes widened as though seeing a glimmer of hope. “Camp Three? Are you sure, Bates?”

  “Yes, yes!”

  Dan dragged him unceremoniously over to the radio tent, forcing Bates to stand up in front of the large map. “Show me your exact position when you left her,” he ordered.

  Fingers trembling, Bates took several seconds to gather his scattered thoughts. “Here. We camped here last night. We were twelve miles south of my camp. She took the map and compass. She said she would take this route,” he muttered, tracing it shakily. Dan released Bates, letting him drop into a heap at his booted feet, then Dan turned his head, looking toward the fire. How long? How long before it reached Three? How close was Libby to the camp? There was a lake there.... If he could get to her, he might be able to save her life. The fire was too close to use a chopper to try to find her. The two-thousand-degree heat fanning outward from the fire was reaching a mile in advance of the main body of flames. It could possibly destroy the helicopter, causing more loss of life. Several plans whirled in his head. Grimly he started toward the US Forest Service command post.

  * * *

  LIBBY FELT HER legs turning rubbery and she stopped before she fell. It was 3:00 p.m. and she could feel the ovenlike heat of the fire on her back and legs. Animals of all sizes and kinds were now running past her, trying to escape the fury of the firestorm at their heels. Her face was blackened with dirt and sweat. Her body trembled from exhaustion. She had left her pack behind, realizing that it was slowing her down. Either she was going to outrun the fire or die in the next two hours. It wouldn’t matter if there was food to eat or not.

  Her eyes teared from the smoke that encircled the tops of the trees. It was a deathly white fog. The heat was intense, even though the flames were still somewhere on the other side of the ridge she had climbed hours earlier. At first she had been frightened when deer, badgers and even black bears had raced by her. But they seemed to ignore the fact that she was a human being. Their panic only increased her own sense of despair. Every living thing was fleeing for its life. She panted, leaning down, trying to slow her heartbeat. After a while, she thought, I won’t be able to run any longer. And the animals won’t last forever, either. We’ll all die.

  She slowly straightened up, pain written on her features. I don’t want to die! Dan! Oh, Dan, I love you, she screamed silently. Bitterly she wiped the tears from her eyes, beginning the treacherous trek down the last ridge. Somewhere on the valley floor ahead of her was Camp Three. She glimpsed a small blue lake from time to time, and the sight buoyed her sagging spirits. Libby sobbed for breath, pushed to the limits of her endurance. Just as she reached the bottom of the ridge, she stumbled. Her boot caught on a hidden tree root and she pitched forward, hands thrown outward to protect her. The earth rushed up to meet her, and then suddenly blackness closed in on her.

  Libby moaned, pain stabbing through her head. Slowly she forced herself to her knees, pressing fingers against her left temple. The warm stickiness she felt was her own blood. She dazedly looked down, realizing she had landed on granite. The heat of the fire drew her attention. How long had she been unconscious? Her mouth was as dry as a cotton ball as she fought to stand. Weaving, Libby held her head, willing away the dizziness. How far did she have to go? Two miles? Maybe three at the most? The lake, a voice screamed inside her head. Get to the lake.

  Semiconscious, acting out of sheer desperation, Libby began to run in the direction of the camp. Only one thought kept her from giving up: she loved Dan. They had to have the chance to make it work. She didn’t want to die knowing she loved him and without being able to tell him. Drunkenly she wove between the huge, thick trees, gasping, choking on the gathering smoke.

  How far had she run? Libby’s legs finally gave out and she landed hard on her belly, sliding to an abrupt halt on the pine needles. Her lungs burned, feeling as if they were on fire. Her chest heaved with sobs as she lay there, unable to move an inch farther. What’s more, her legs were cramping, and she had run out of water long before and was nearing dehydration. Her jeans were torn and shredded by the brush and thickets, her arms cut and bleeding. Libby buried her head in her hands, crying with frustration. It wasn’t fair! She didn’t want to die this way. For the first time in her life she had found a man she could love with all her heart and soul, and now the future was going to be torn away from her. Tears squeezed out of her red-rimmed eyes and she sobbed heavily, her fingers digging into the pine needles in agony.

  “Libby!”

  She choked on a sob.

  “Libby! Can you hear me?”

  She raised her head. Was her mind playing tricks on her? Had she heard Dan’s voice? In her shock, had she made it up? Dazed, Libby got to her knees, unable to rise. She heard the snap and crackle of wood burning, the explosion of trees catching fire as the initial wave of heat began to sweep across the ridge. Blinking back her tears, Libby tried to see through the whitish smoke that now flowed like silent fingers of d
eath through the trees around her.

  “Libby!”

  Her heart hammered in her chest. A sob escaped. “Here!” she croaked. Her voice was barely audible. Fighting against pain, exhaustion and dizziness, Libby forced herself to her feet, staggering in the direction of the male voice. Was it Dan? Was it? “I’m here!” she screamed, her voice cracking.

  Libby suddenly halted, weaving unsteadily on her feet. There, like a dark apparition appearing out of the dense haze and smoke, was a man running toward her. She blinked unsurely, thinking she was seeing things. Her mind must have snapped. She must be imagining that it was Dan. As he closed the distance between them Libby’s confusion increased. He was wearing some sort of dark green flight suit and black boots. Why did he look like a pilot? Libby’s mind began to swim and she moaned, closing her eyes. It was too much. Too much. She felt herself falling forward in slow motion. It didn’t matter anymore. She was too tired. She had run the best race she knew how and had given it her all. It hadn’t been enough. Maybe now she could sleep. That was all she wanted, to sleep and forget the impending horror that was stalking her....

  11

  GRIMLY, DAN CHECKED Libby over before scooping her up into his arms. She had sustained many cuts, lacerations and bruises. Worriedly he looked at the gash on her temple. With one backward glance he gripped her tightly to him, running toward the lake, barely a mile away. It was their only hope...their only chance of living through the fiery holocaust....

  Libby felt cold water being splashed against her face. She moaned, protesting, opening her eyes. Dan’s face danced before her. “Dan?” she whispered.

  He nodded, cradling her next to his body, supporting her by the bank of the lake. “It’s me,” he rasped. His face was streaked with sweat, and tense with unspoken anxiety.

  “Η-how did you find me?”

  He smiled grimly, giving her a hug. “They found Bates and he gave me your route over the ridge and valley. Listen,” he said quickly, “we can’t be rescued, Libby. The fire’s too close. It’s too hot. No chopper can land here right now.” He spoke in a firm, soothing tone, one that was meant to keep her calm. “We’ve got to get in the water. The heat of the fire is over twenty-five hundred degrees Fahrenheit and we’re going to get a blast of it just as soon as the flames top that ridge. No matter what happens, just trust me. I’ll get us through this. But it’s going to be frightening, Libby. You may panic. Whatever you do, just listen to me. Just do as I tell you.” His blue eyes were dark, boring into hers. “Do you understand?”