Lighting Fire

by Leslie North

  "I need you to drop whatever you're doing and get down here immediately," Hank said. "Fire's picked up."

  Chase was already out of the booth. "On my way. Where are you?" he demanded.

  "Air strip." He could hear rapid-fire voices on the other end of the line, and the call cut out. He assumed his chief had said all he needed to say and hung up.

  "Guess the coffee's on me," he heard Jason remark as he barreled out the door.

  He arrived at the air strip ten minutes later, already half in his gear. He lugged the rest with him as he jogged across the tarmac to the Black Hawk. The chopper was the hub of activity as several squad guys came and went, lugging tanks between them and sliding them into the cabin. Chase's eyes locked onto Sookie, doubled over inside and helping to secure everything. He was almost to her when a strong hand on his shoulder steered him aside.

  "Kingston, I need you flying with my sister today," Hank said. If his chief had feelings about the arrangement either way, he didn't show it. Chase could practically see the blaze reflected in his eyes, and they weren't even within visual distance yet. The wildfire was foremost on everyone's mind—except his. "Her copilot and crew chief are down with food poisoning today. You're the only one available to ride with her."

  "Assignment accepted," Chase said unnecessarily. Hank clapped him on the back and strode off to bark orders elsewhere.

  As soon as he was gone, Chase quickly adopted one of the foam tanks and lifted it into the cabin.

  Sookie's hands brushed his, and she glanced up sharply, as if the sizzle between them was already enough to identify him without looking.

  "Hey, Sookie," he began. "I just wanted to let you know that I—"

  "Now isn't the time," she cut him off curtly. "Get strapped in and ready to fly."

  "I can do that," Chase agreed, trying not to scowl as he pulled himself up into the cabin beside her.

  This was going to be a long shift.

  Chapter 18

  Sookie

  Sookie’d never thought she would live to see the day when silence inside the Black Hawk was a problem.

  She hadn't gotten used to the whir of the propeller blades until she was several weeks into her training, and even then, she could never deafen herself to them completely. The cutting of the air above her, the humming of the machinery below, was safe and familiar background noise to her now. She felt more at home here than she did on earth. Silence was for the world on the ground.

  Yet Chase insisted on bringing it with him.

  You asked for it, Sook, she thought. You're the one who told him now 'isn't the time'. If there was a way to discreetly kick herself without Chase noticing, she would. Why did it feel as if every time she tried to guard herself, she wound up making the situation worse?

  Maybe it wasn't weakness to show her true feelings. Maybe it required strength to just come out and say it.

  "Look, now's not the time for this!" she shouted. You couldn’t help but shout inside a Black Hawk. "So here goes. I like you, Chase Kingston! I like you a lot!"

  Chase glanced up, bewildered. "Did I hear you correctly?" he shouted back. "Because there's no way you just said what I think you said after hurling a mug at my head!"

  "You think I put on a dress for just anyone?" she demanded. "You think I let anyone close enough to actually let loose with my temper like that?"

  "Maybe you don't normally leave any survivors!"

  Sookie shook her head, fighting the urge to smile. She didn't want her serious discussion derailed; she struggled enough expressing her feelings as it was. "Look, just because we've had sex doesn't mean you own me. Just because I like you doesn't mean you own me. I want you to know that. But I'm offering to give you a piece of me, all right?"

  "I like you, too, Sookie." Hearing him say the words made a shock of pleasure race through her, as much as if he had just said I love you. "I just—I guess I need you to know I got hurt real bad once before. Real bad. I know that's not an excuse for the way I acted."

  " ‘Still-not-over-it’ bad?" Sookie guessed. Not like she didn't have experience with that herself.

  "I want to be over it. I want to be better," Chase stressed. "You make me want to be better." He paused. She glanced back to ensure they didn't have a bad connection, and saw him struggling for words. "I guess I thought maybe you were fixing to hurt me the way I'd been hurt before. I know that I don't own you, Sookie. But I wouldn't mind it if you acted like you owned me. I can't handle the indifference. It drives me crazy, wanting things to go somewhere with us."

  "That makes two of us," she said with conviction.

  "I want it to be two of us," Chase answered with equal assurance. "You and me? We make a good team, Ice Queen."

  "You might regret giving me that nickname now that you've thawed my cold, cold heart, Chase Kingston!" Sookie laughed. "You'll have to get used to just calling me queen from now on."

  "I look forward to it!" he shouted back. Sookie's cheeks heated beneath her aviators, and a cozy warmth settled in her stomach that had nothing to do with the dangerous wildfire raging below them.

  Speaking of—

  "Hey, Hotshot. You ready to open those tanks? Looks like we're in position."

  "That was damn fast," Chase said.

  "Didn't feel damn fast with you giving me the silent treatment."

  "You're the one who told me it wasn't time to talk!" Chase called over his shoulder as he started his prep work. A moment later, he called to her again: "Ready when you are!"

  "I have to get lower," she said as she veered the Hawk downward. "I don't like it, but if we're too high, the foam will go wide. "Ready to release?"

  "Ready."

  Chase released the tanks. Sookie counted as she felt them disengage. One, two . . .

  Rrr.

  "Chase?" she called back. "Everything all right back there?"

  Rrr. A metallic whirring vibrated through the cabin. Sookie glanced over her shoulder. She hated taking her eyes off the fire for even a second, especially when they were this close, but she could tell that something was wrong. "Chase!"

  Chase leaned out to the side. When he glanced up, his face was already dark with smoke, and sweat carved tracks down from his temple. We're too close, Sookie thought in horror. In the next moment, the cold-blooded pilot in her understood that her panic was irrational. She knew exactly how close they could afford to get. Chase was safe, so long as he stayed in the—

  "Third tank is jammed!" Chase shouted. "I'm going to have to crawl over the edge and unjam it!"

  "Don't you fucking dare!" she shouted back. Her blood thundered so loudly in her ears that if Chase responded, she didn't hear it. She quickly cut her eyes forward to survey the scene, then back again—just in time to see him disappear halfway out the cabin opening. "Chase!"

  "Don't worry, Sookie, I've got it! I—"

  The release opened and whipped across Chase's shoulder. In an instant, everything seemed to slow to an agonizing crawl. Strapped to her seat, Sookie could do nothing but watch as Chase tumbled sideways out into the smoke-filled sky.

  "Chase!"

  Chapter 19

  Chase

  His tether snapped on the way down.

  Chase clawed for it, animal panic making him grasp for the rope even as it snaked ineffectually through the air behind him. The Black Hawk shrank overhead and spun away from him as gravity dragged him down in a gut-churning rush. Branches snagged his limbs, puncturing his clothes and more than a few tender spots, but he had the presence of mind to thank God as the tree stabbed and tore and slowed him on his inevitable date with the ground.

  He landed hard. Precious air exploded from his lungs, and he gasped to get it back as he rolled over. Oppressive heat slammed into him, making his fight to regain his breath nearly impossible, but he persevered until he had enough in his proverbial tank to drag himself to his feet. His literal tank was back on the chopper, along with all his other gear.

  Fuck.

  He’d had a few things
on him, at least, when he fell. Chase scrambled to find his mask and pressed it to his face. It was better than nothing.

  All around him, the wildfire raged. Tall columns of flame that had once been living trees thrust themselves nightmarishly toward the blackened sky; further off, a tree toppled and exploded like a bomb. Elsewhere, he heard the roar of something that sounded like an engine, barely distinguishable above the unearthly howl of the fire.

  "Sookie!"

  She had brought the Black Hawk down in a nearby clearing. It was impossible, but she had done it. Chase stumbled forward, holding his mask to his face with one hand and using the other to shield himself from the shower of embers scattered by the Hawk's rotating blades.

  Damn it. She was too close to the fire. Chase tried to wave her back up into the air, but Sookie was waving at him, gesturing vigorously for him to get to her. When Chase began to pump his arm forward, so hard it nearly dislocated, she finally got the message and turned to look. When she saw the fire nearly upon her, she dropped her hands to wrestle with her belt.

  She wasn't going to make it. Chase could see the scene unfold before him before the pieces even fell into place. Something was wrong. The belt was tangled on something, or stuck, and there was nothing within Sookie's reach inside the cockpit to help her free herself. He raced toward her, ragged breaths fogging the inside of his mask, obscuring his vision as much as the stinging sweat that dripped into his eyes—

  A loud groan made him wheel. A flaming tree careened between him and the chopper, only narrowly missing him on the way down. It hit the ground in a shower of sparks, flamed high, and groaned louder. Oh, God. The damn thing sounded seconds away from exploding.

  He didn't think. He just acted. He dashed toward the tree, planted at the last second, and lunged over it. Flames licked and scorched along the insides of his pants. By the time he landed, he was on fire, legs and right arm flaming. He bolted for an oozing patch of foam and threw himself down onto it, rolling to put himself out. His ears rang.

  Somewhere nearby, Sookie screamed.

  Chase picked himself up and sprinted for the Black Hawk. He had his knife out before he would even allow his hand to register the pain. He hauled himself up beside Sookie and sliced her free from her restraints. She grabbed onto him as he pulled them both to what he hoped was safety.

  He could smell leaking fuel.

  "MOVE!" Chase screamed, loud enough to shred his vocal chords. He was terrified that it was already too little, too late, but Sookie heeded him, sprinting as fast as she could away from the Hawk, and he followed. In the reflection off his mask, he watched the Hawk recede into the distance.

  He saw the moment the fuel tank caught fire. He tackled Sookie to the ground.

  The deafening explosion filled the air above them. Shrapnel flew through the sky, decapitating trees and embedding trunks. Chase pulled Sookie closer, praying that any debris that flew their way would end its nightmarish trajectory with him. He would shield her, no matter the cost.

  After a long, tense moment of waiting, he drew a shuddering breath. He pulled her to her feet, removed the mask from his face, and pressed it to hers. Sookie's wide, terrified eyes told him exactly what she was thinking, but Chase couldn't bring himself to listen now. She wanted him to keep the mask, but he wanted her to live. A quick glance down, and he saw blood gushing down her leg from a jagged tear in her flight suit. He held his arm out to her, and she hugged him around the shoulders.

  She hopped as he pulled her, stumbling, away from the spreading fire. "The trench!" Chase shouted hoarsely. Even though her face hovered right beside his own, he couldn't be sure she heard him. "It should be just up ahead! If we can get to it—"

  Sookie's leg buckled, and Chase knew that was the end of it. She went down hard, and he followed her down. Before she could land in a heap, his arms encircled her, and he lifted her against his chest. He rose and kept running for the both of them.

  The ground dropped off sharply ahead of him. Chase slowed as he neared the lip of the trench, then kept going, half-falling down the hill in a cascade of dirt, Sookie still in his arms. He could hear her breathing raggedly inside the mask—or was that his own gasping lungs drawing in the polluted air? Soon enough, they were at the bottom of the trench, and he started the long climb up. Sookie clutched him, burying her head in his neck. It was the last shred of motivation Chase needed to get them up the hill.

  He kept running long after they hit flat, solid earth again. He ran for as long as he could. Up ahead, he thought he distinguished human figures, a squad fighting the fire on a different front. He tried to shout to gain their attention, but found he had no voice left.

  Sookie raised an arm off his neck to wave feebly, and he saw one of them turn.

  And then he couldn't go any further. Chase dropped to his knees, carrying Sookie down with him. She clutched him, and God, after running through Hell on earth—her arms felt like Heaven. He wanted to tell her.

  He wanted to tell her so many things he had left unsaid up there in the sky—and here on the ground—only he couldn't think. His tongue was a lead weight between his teeth, and his chest felt too tight to draw in air. He begged her with his eyes to understand, and Sookie cried out.

  She pulled the mask from her face and tried to press it to his, but it was too late.

  Chase's eyes closed, and he fell forward. He hoped to be unconscious before he hit the ground, but a pair of slender arms caught him, and he gave himself over to them and their unanticipated strength. They weren't moving anymore. Still, it felt good to be cradled.

  It felt good to be with the woman he loved.

  Darkness crept around his vision. Over Sookie's shoulder, he thought he could discern the figures of several firefighters running toward them, carrying oxygen tanks—but then he was sinking—down—down. With the last of his mental strength, he clawed to find his way back out of the darkness—and failed. At least he wasn't alone as he slipped away.

  Sookie was there.

  Chapter 20

  Sookie

  There was a knock on the hospital room door.

  Sookie blinked blearily and raised her head up from her folded arms. Chase's face resolved in front of her, resting peacefully against the pillow. Still no sign of waking, but she would watch over him for years, if she had to. He deserved as much shuteye as a man could manage, now that he was out of the woods—both literally and figuratively.

  "Come in, Hank," she called over her shoulder. The door opened, and her brother entered. She had already recognized him by his knock.

  "Just wanted to check in on you, Sook. How's the leg?"

  "Fine." She winced as she moved it into a better position. "Well, not fine, but not broken, and they have me on some pretty good meds."

  "I heard you refused the meds." Hank was always good at catching her in a lie.

  "I'm on eight hundred milligrams of Ibuprofen. I'd say that counts for something. I swear, I can't feel a thing." Sookie crossed her arms. "And anyway, I don't want to be compromised if I have to go back up there again."

  "Sounds to me like you're grounded for a while," Hank said quietly.

  This time, Sookie didn't lie to get him off her back; she nodded slowly, sadly. The Black Hawk was gone, consumed by the inferno. She would have been in deep shit, normally—losing a six-million-dollar piece of government equipment because you were trying to save your lover's life wasn't exactly smiled upon by the Guard—but Frank had been adamant that it wasn't her fault. He had gone to bat for her with maintenance reports flying and fists swinging. She knew the Hawk had been in need of more than a few parts, and Frank cited the delay in getting them paid for and delivered as the reason why they had lost it.

  Sookie knew that she would have some people to answer to, of course, but she wasn't overly worried. She would have brought the Black Hawk down again in a heartbeat if it meant prolonging Chase Kingston's life just a little longer.

  Hank stood awkwardly for a moment, then indicated Chase's unconsc
ious form. "How's the patient?"

  "Good. They stuck an IV in him and got him hydrated. His suit kept him from suffering any serious burns. Still hasn't woken up, but he's sleeping peacefully now. He should be back on the firelines in the next few days."

  "Guess he’s earned himself some time off," Hank grunted. "How are you holding up?" His eyes drifted to where Sookie held Chase's hand tightly in hers.

  She squeezed it in a small demonstration. She didn't care anymore if her brother knew. "I could be worse," she said. "I'm alive right now because of Chase."

  "I know you are," Hank said. "Chase is a good man." He moved closer, and Sookie shifted to face him. He let his hand settle on the back of her chair, and she didn't try to lift it off or push it away. A part of her wanted to reach out and squeeze it, the same way she did Chase's, but she didn't feel ready. Not yet.

  But soon.

  "I know I have no right to be your protector after having left you," Hank whispered. Sookie's heart lurched a little, but she said nothing. She understood this next moment was imperatively important. "And I know I went a little overboard when I found out about the two of you. I think a part of me—" He struggled for words. Sookie let him. "A part of me was jealous that Chase got through to you before I did. I'm your brother, Sook. I know I made a huge mistake in our past—but I love you, and I miss you, and you grew up on me when my back was turned."

  "Don't stop trying," she whispered. "Please."

  Hank was silent a long moment. Together, they watched the rhythmic rise and fall of Chase's chest beneath the thin hospital gown. "I won't," Hank said finally. "Anyway, looks like we're both going to be here a while."

  "Plenty of time to annoy each other," she said with a wry smile.

  Hank's own smile twitched in agreement. His phone buzzed, and he checked the screen. "I gotta head out," he said. "Fire's under control at the moment, but there's a storm coming. Could either help or make the situation worse, depending on whether it rains or blows."