by Nicole Helm
“Hey, Ty.” Someone bumped his shoulder, and he looked up to see Sam crouched beside him. “We have a situation. I need you and two other guys to do a structure assessment, and possibly an evacuation. I’ll take the others and tackle the front edge of the main fire. I want you to be the point man for the evac.”
Tyler felt his eyebrows go up. They didn’t typically do evacuations, although it wasn’t outside their realm of duties. He bent to take a closer look at the map where Sam was pointing. On the extreme edge of the park, he could see what looked like an access road snaking into the steeper terrain.
“What kind of an evacuation?”
“A man and his daughter. They were told to leave two days ago, but looks like they decided to stay. The landlines are down, and the fire roads are impassable, otherwise the St. Mary crew would go in and get them. They can still use this access road if they leave in the next hour. It’ll take the ground crews at least two hours to reach them, which is why they want us to go in. The fire will reach the access road at this point”—Sam jabbed a finger at a spot on the squiggly line—“within an hour. If we can’t get them safely beyond this point, we’ll be looking at an aerial evac.”
Tyler could see the property was directly in the path of the fire. He barely contained a snort of contempt. Although the fire marshals provided ample warning for residents to flee ahead of a wildfire, there were always those who believed they could ride out the storm. They soaked their homes with water and hunkered down, putting their lives at risk, as well as the lives of those trying to rescue them. Tyler would go in after the man and his daughter because that was his job, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He resented risking the safety of his crew because some jack-wagon thought he was fireproof. That the man would endanger his own daughter—a child—was even more infuriating.
“I’ll take Vin and Ace,” he said. “We’ll get these people to safety and cut a fire line here.” He indicated a spot ahead of the leading edge of the fire. “If things get dicey, I’ll call for a slurry drop.”
Slurry was a fire retardant liquid, dropped by aircraft ahead of a wildfire, to protect that area from catching fire. Most commonly, it was used to protect homes and people.
Sam nodded. “They’re scooping water out of St. Mary Lake and dumping it along the access road. If they can keep the road wet, those folks will have a good chance of making it down the mountain.” He started to move away, and then turned back. “Listen, that front is moving fast and hot. No heroics. Just get those people out, and then you hightail it out of there. Head back to the drop site, and radio me for our position.”
Tyler folded his map and tucked it inside his suit, as Sam climbed across the gear to tell Vin, Ace, and Doster about the evac plan. Sam and the spotter bent their heads over the map, debating on where to drop Tyler and the other two jumpers. After several moments, obviously satisfied, Sam gave Doster a slap on the back, and then signaled the remaining men for the first jump. Tyler watched as each man positioned himself in the open door, waited for the spotter to tap him on the leg, and pushed himself out into the open sky.
Then it was just the four of them left in the plane, as the pilot banked sharply and the spotter leaned out of the open door to survey the land beneath them. Tyler never tired of seeing the majestic mountain ranges and sweeping valleys that defined this part of Montana. He’d lived here his entire life, had spent countless days hiking through the wilderness of the national park. Despite having traveled all over the continental U.S. and Canada, he couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. Protecting this magnificent land from the ravages of wildfire was both a duty, and a privilege.
Less than five minutes later, they were over the second drop site. Tyler braced himself in the opening of the plane, surveying the area below. The landing site was a mix of conifer trees, meadows, and brush just below a rocky outcrop. If the winds didn’t cooperate, there was a risk of overshooting the drop site and being pushed into the rocks, or being carried into a dense copse of tall spruce. Either would suck. Tyler had dropped into trees before, and even if he managed to avoid being impaled by a branch, or getting his chute lines tangled, it completely sucked.
When he felt the slap on his leg, he pushed forward, out of the plane and into the open air, free-falling toward earth. Tyler silently acknowledged he always had some anxiety before jumping, but once he was actually airborne, all of that vanished.
He was flying, free and untethered, the wind whipping at his jumpsuit and pushing at his face, and his heart soared with the sheer thrill of it. Then he pulled his chute and felt himself jerked upward, his downward plummet momentarily suspended. He glanced up to see the bright blue, rectangular canopy open above him. Grasping the two toggle handles, he peered down over his boots to where the ground was swiftly rising up to meet him. He steered toward the landing site, maneuvering himself to the center of the small clearing, and pulled hard on both toggles to slow his approach.
He landed on his feet, and quickly gathered in his chute and stripped off his helmet and his protective gear. Shading his eyes, he watched as Vin and Ace dropped out of the sky, wincing as Ace hit the ground hard. But the younger man was up on his feet almost immediately, and Tyler gave the thumbs up to the spotter, as the plane circled above them. Within minutes, their packs and equipment were dropped out of the aircraft, and Tyler swore softly as one of them drifted too far and landed in the trees. Retrieving the gear would cost them precious minutes and, with the wildfire bearing down on the trapped family, they needed every second.
It took them less than ten minutes to store their chutes, retrieve their gear, and begin hiking toward the threatened property. As they closed in on the wildfire, Tyler could smell burning trees and hear the ominous crackle of flames as the wildfire consumed the dry underbrush and spruce. He glanced at his map.
“We’re heading directly toward the fire. The property should be straight ahead, through these trees,” he shouted to Vin. “We’ll bring the family back this way, and get them to the access road.”
As long as the access road was still viable, he thought. If things went south and the road was impassable, they would bring them back to the drop site and call in a chopper. He could hear the roar of the wildfire ahead of them, and several times they encountered small fires that had sprung up from stray embers, carried by the wind. They suppressed those flames on the spot, working quickly to clear away flammable debris, and kick dirt over the embers. Sweat soaked Tyler’s shirt and ran in rivulets down his neck. His eyes burned from the smoke that filled the air, and he swiped the moisture from his face with the back of his gloved hands. They hadn’t even reached the main fire, and already he’d had a good workout.
They continued to push their way through the trees, using their pulaskis and, on one occasion, a chainsaw to cut through the dense forest. The sound of the wildfire grew louder. Through the brush, Tyler could now see the beginning of the property, and what looked like a high, wire fence that ran as far as he could see to either side.
Great. Now, they’d have to cut through the fencing to get to the house. Tyler cursed under his breath. The three men reached the fence line and Tyler stood back, momentarily puzzled. There were actually two wire fences, one inside the other, with a three-foot space separating them.
“What the hell?” Vin peered through the fencing. “Did you see that?”
A dark shadow moved on the other side of the fencing.
“Yeah, looked like a dog,” Ace said.
“Ah, hell.” Vin swore. “I know where we are. That wasn’t a dog—that was a wolf.”
Both Tyler and Ace turned to look at him, and Tyler knew his face showed his astonishment.
“I’ve heard of this place…it’s a wolf sanctuary,” Vin said, swiping a hand across his eyes. “I just didn’t realize it was so far off the beaten path.”
Christ. Wolves. How many were there? And had their enclosure been compromised by the wildfire? Tyler knew enough about wolves to know they preferred to avoid any
contact with humans, but with the wildfire almost on top of them, their behavior could be unpredictable. Dangerous.
Perfect. Just when he thought the situation couldn’t get any worse, now he had to worry about wolves.
Find out what happens next in Heat…
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About the Author
Nicole Helm writes down-to-earth contemporary romance—from farmers to cowboys, midwest to the west, she writes stories about people finding themselves and finding love in the process. She lives in Missouri with her husband and two sons, surrounded by light sabers, video games, and a shared dream of someday owning a farm.
Visit her website at NicoleHelm.wordpress.com
Follow her on Facebook and Twtiter@NicoleTHelm
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