Embers and Echoes

by Daniel De Lorne

  ‘Suspects, boss?’ Hartley asked.

  The superintendent looked at Ben. ‘Fields?’

  All eyes turned to him. Did they know this was his fault?

  ‘Jared Fairfax.’ He picked up a wanted flyer from his desk and displayed it to the team. ‘Twenty-six-year-old Caucasian male, black hair, one-hundred-and-seventy-three centimetres tall. Car registration CC33GF.’ He passed the paper around and they jotted down the description. ‘Former drug dealer, out on parole. I sent him down so he’s come for revenge. He hasn’t been seen at his mother’s house in Newmont since early yesterday. We suspect he’s responsible for the fire at the cemetery and the one that destroyed the Grimshaws’s house. We don’t know if he’s armed but assume so. Anything else, boss?’

  ‘I want him caught, Fields.’ The superintendent’s eyebrows raised, her demand clear. ‘He’s your responsibility and I want him found before he can do any more damage.’

  ‘Yes, boss.’

  They had their orders. The officers dispersed. Leila came up and squeezed his arm but there was no time to chat. He jumped on the phone and called Jared’s mother.

  ‘What’s he done?’ Val’s voice quavered.

  ‘We believe he’s lit fires around Echo Springs and they’re threatening the town.’

  ‘He never would have done something like this before—’

  Before he’d been sent to prison.

  Too bad he hadn’t stayed there.

  ‘Can you think of anywhere he might go?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ve tried calling him but his phone’s off. I’m sorry, I don’t know where he is.’

  He’d tried too and the trace on Jared’s mobile hadn’t worked either.

  ‘If you think of anything, please call me.’ He hung up and walked over to examine the map.

  The southern fires had spread and advanced on the town. They hadn’t yet jumped the highway and joined forces to create a wall of flame, but if the wind kept up, Echo Springs was as good as charcoal. But the placement bothered him. It made sense for Jared to light one in the west as he’d come that way from Newmont. Even so he’d poured his efforts into the one in the south instead. Had he known what the wind was going to do?

  Ben roved over that section of the map, and his eyes stopped on the springs that gave the town its name.

  And the spot where he and Toby had first kissed.

  Shivers scuttled up his back and crested his raised shoulders before a chill spilled down his chest.

  He’d told Jared about it.

  That’s why the fire was worse there.

  But where was he now?

  Most arsonists liked to watch the effects of their crime, see the rush of activity as they wielded power over life and death. While Jared wasn’t the stereotypical pyromaniac, he’d want to watch this. He’d want to make sure…

  ‘Toby,’ he whispered.

  He grabbed his keys and hurried to the fire station. The garage doors were open; the tankers and pumps deployed. The offices buzzed with phones ringing and people coordinating teams on the ground. Smoke wafted through the air. He searched for Toby.

  ‘Can I help you, officer?’ a female volunteer asked.

  ‘Where’s Toby Grimshaw?’

  ‘He’s at the springs with three crews.’

  The muscles at the base of his skull knotted into a fist. His breath stopped and everything dimmed. He’s fighting that fire thinking I hate him. What if Jared gets him? Black crept along the edges of his vision. He fought for breath. He had to get out there. He inhaled and the world solidified.

  ‘Send a message to them,’ he said. ‘The arsonist is coming for Toby.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‘Bring it back in, Toby.’ Adrian’s voice crackled through the radio.

  Toby didn’t respond. The water ran out and he switched the hose to pump foam, blacking out a section of the ground. He’d attacked the fire’s flank but barely contained it. His muscles ached after nearly two hours up and down the highway. Two other teams were stationed further along this line, holding back the blaze that erupted out of the heart of Echo Springs’s namesake. Gum trees exploded as their oil superheated, and a carpet of flames swept across the grass. Coal-grey smoke billowed, casting embers and ash into the sky.

  If he’d died in the house fire, then Jared wouldn’t have done this.

  Sweat poured down his skin as the heat rolled over him and through the suit. He bunched his shoulders, trying to dislodge the knots that bulged across them. Aiming the hose at the base of the flames, he swept left and right but failed to find a rhythm. His hands were sprained from holding on for so long.

  ‘Toby!’ Adrian shouted. ‘Inside now or I drive off without you.’

  His breathing laboured through the mask that kept the toxins out of his lungs. Clamped over his mouth and nose, it itched. He was tempted to rip the damn thing off. Five minutes without it would do the trick. He blasted the ground with one more jet, then jogged to the tanker.

  Adrian started packing up the hose and yanked it out of his gloved fist. ‘Get in the cab.’

  Anger clawed the backs of Toby’s aching eyes. He shoved Adrian against the truck. ‘Watch it.’

  He reared up, and their helmets bashed together. ‘Quit acting like a dick with a death wish. Get in.’ He jerked his head in the direction of the cab and continued storing the hose.

  Toby squeezed his fists. Adrian couldn’t speak to a superior—to him!—like that. He was about to ream him out, but Adrian finished packing and stormed around to the other side of the truck and climbed in. The engine roared to life. He had no choice but to get in or get left behind.

  He slammed the door and Adrian drove. The tanker kicked up dust and dirt as its tyres tore up the paddock, bumping over uneven ground, setting a course ten minutes down the highway to refuel. Toby pulled off his helmet and mask, then shook his hands free from his gloves and unzipped the front of his coat. Cool air blasted through the air-con vents but heated blood thundered through his temples.

  ‘You ever talk to me like that again—’

  ‘You keep behaving like this and there’s not going to be another chance.’ Adrian watched the road ahead. ‘You’ll die out there if you don’t pull your head in. Nobody wants that.’

  The tirade Toby had been about to unleash died on his tongue.

  ‘Here,’ Adrian said, chucking Toby a bottle of water from the seat in between them. He reached forward and snatched a packet of electrolytes from the dashboard. ‘And this.’

  He did as he was told, ripping open the sachet and pouring it into the bottle. He put it to his lips and his raw throat instantly soothed. The more he drank, the more he wanted. How much fluid had he lost today? He’d fought the fires while Adrian stayed at the tanker. Those had been Toby’s orders. They were going as fast as they could but the fire seemed to be growing. What if he couldn’t stop it?

  He lowered the empty bottle and tightened the lid.

  ‘More.’ Adrian thrust a second bottle at him.

  ‘I’m fine.’ He propped his elbow on the window and rested his head on his knuckles. The blaze roared in the wing mirror.

  ‘You’re staying behind at the pump,’ Adrian said. ‘You’re not in the right frame of mind to do this.’

  He stared out the window across paddocks yet to burn, at homes yet to be destroyed. More lives to be ruined.

  ‘What’s going on with you? It’s not like you to put yourself in harm’s way.’

  ‘We’re firefighters.’ His voice ran as flat as the highway. ‘We do this all the time.’

  ‘That last sector you got too close to the head instead of sticking to the flank. You only needed the wind to change suddenly and you’d have been engulfed. That was a rookie error, Toby.’

  His neck flushed and the skin around his throat prickled. He covered his mouth so Adrian couldn’t see him cringe.

  If Adrian hadn’t shouted at him through his headset to fall back, he wouldn’t have noticed if the direction changed. He�
�d been too busy thinking about Ben ordering him out of his house.

  He’d been so angry.

  He shut his mouth. Arguing with Adrian wouldn’t do any good. They needed to refill the tanks and get back out there. Hopefully by that time the Elvis helicopter would be ready to drop a load from the sky.

  Adrian eased up on his nagging, but the crew at the pump had heard the barrage over the radio. He took their ribbing, biding his time until he could get back out there. One of them asked if he was alright to continue.

  ‘He’s fine.’ Adrian answered for him, ignoring his narrowed glare. ‘He’s staying with the tanker this time, aren’t ya, mate?’

  The bossy bastard’s smile punched him in the gut.

  ‘Like hell I am.’

  ‘It’s either that or you stay here. Your call, Grim.’

  He bristled. They knew he hated that name. Luckily they didn’t use it often. Only when he deserved it. The other crew watched him and waited, and for the first time in his career, he felt like telling them to get stuffed. The job could go to hell. What was the bloody point of being here any longer?

  But Adrian’s you-know-I’m-only-looking-out-for-you grin matched the ones the other guys wore. The muscles in his jaw eased. He wasn’t ready to smile but he was ready to return to work.

  He sucked his teeth. ‘Whatever,’ he said and their laughter pushed him to the tanker.

  The drive to their sector was done in silence but the tension had eased. They passed the McCormacks’ hundred-year-old homestead, empty now that the fire had gotten so close. Their cars were gone but a motorcycle had been left abandoned in the driveway. They hadn’t wanted to leave but the danger was too great.

  Adrian suggested a different section of the advancing fire and Toby got them as close to it as they could get on the sealed road before cutting across the paddock.

  ‘Here’s good, don’t you think?’ Adrian asked.

  Toby hit the brakes and killed the engine. Adrian jumped out of the cab first, taking his equipment with him, and slammed the door.

  A wet ball of shame lodged at the back of Toby’s throat. His head hit the headrest and his eyes slid closed. Exhaustion scraped his bones. He’d been fighting on all fronts and battle weariness had set in. Despite this, Adrian should be the one to stay behind while he stood in front of Jared’s anger. But now the guys knew he was struggling and their confidence in him had crashed.

  It would have been better to keep silent and take the truth about Ben’s mother’s death to the grave. What use was a firefighter who couldn’t be trusted to do his job? But he struggled on. The fire was only getting worse.

  He slid out of the cab and his boots hit the dirt. He leaned in and grabbed his protective gear and the radio burst to life.

  ‘Unit four-zero-four, message from the police. Be on the lookout for suspected arsonist. They say he’s coming for Grimshaw. Recommend unit withdrawal. Do you copy?’

  Something hard and round jabbed between his shoulder blades. He froze with his hand hovering over the transceiver.

  ‘Turn around, Toby. Slowly.’

  The pressure on his back abated as he was given room to back up and turn to see a shotgun levelled at his chest. Jared’s finger rested on the trigger.

  The radio squawked again. ‘Unit four-zero-four, do you copy?’

  This was the first time he’d seen Ben’s ex up close. His tense eyes were the colour of river water after the rains. His hair was a little shorter and straighter than Toby’s. They were evenly matched in size and height, although Jared’s shoulders were broader and his biceps slightly bigger. Adrian’s bushfire mask covered his mouth and nose, and he’d claimed his coat.

  ‘What did you do to Adrian?’ he asked.

  ‘He’s fine,’ Jared said. ‘Grab your mask and don’t try anything stupid.’

  He reached back for the yellow mask, his eyes searching for anything he could use to protect himself from Jared’s attack. Water bottles and a helmet weren’t enough.

  ‘Quit stalling.’

  The shotgun prodded him and his spine stiffened. He turned and Jared signalled for him to put on the mask; the air flowing into his lungs became easier to inhale, even if his breathing was shallow.

  ‘What now?’

  ‘We’re waiting for someone.’

  Dread pitched into his stomach like a tree crashing to the ground.

  Ben, please don’t come.

  ‘He won’t come. They’re too busy protecting the town, you know, the one you’re intent on destroying.’ His voice didn’t come out as scornful as he’d intended; the mask muffled some of the sound, the rest quivered on his fear.

  ‘He’ll be here. He’s nothing if not dependable.’

  Jared motioned for him to move away from the truck and towards the edge of the fire. The heat intensified and sucked sweat to the surface of his skin. He could try to grab the gun, but the gear weighed him down. He was likely to get shot in the back before he’d turned ninety degrees.

  ‘You’ve got it wrong!’ He shouted over the roar of flames. ‘There’s nothing going on between Ben and me.’

  I’m going to die out here.

  ‘Stop there. That’s far enough.’

  Flames licked at the ground a metre from his feet.

  ‘Did you hear me? Ben and I are not together.’

  Desperation scratched up his throat. He wanted another chance.

  I never told him I loved him. I thought he’d know but I never said it.

  ‘Shut up, Toby.’

  The gun barrel jutted into the base of his skull. His heart galloped around inside his ribcage, yanking air into his lungs. He didn’t want to die but if the opportunity came and his death meant saving Ben’s life, he’d take it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ben spotted the tanker parked in a paddock and dwarfed by the inferno. In the distance two figures moved against a backdrop of crimson flame and jet-black tree trunks. Heat waves distorted their bodies, making it impossible to tell who they were, but that was definitely Toby’s unit. His foot slammed the pedal to the floor, and the patrol car tore up the distance. The siren wailed. As he got closer, the figures moved towards the flames, and he lost sight of them.

  No! No! No!

  He cut into the paddock, the tyres sinking dangerously low into the dirt, but he gunned the engine and pushed through as the dust flew. He skidded to a halt behind the truck. He drew his weapon and lowered his body out of the car, searching for signs of movement. The car door shielded him as he slipped out into an intense heat. His shirt, weighed down by a bulletproof vest, was plastered to his skin.

  Backup was on its way but this looked wrong. Two people had been there but now they were gone—and he’d hazard a guess that one of them was Jared. No firefighters operated the hose, and a motorbike lay discarded behind the back of the truck. No wonder they hadn’t found Jared’s car. Continuing his scan of the area, he spotted two legs jutting out from the other side of the tanker. Checking he wasn’t about to be ambushed, he broke his cover and ran. Adrian lay unconscious on the ground, blood wet in his hair and on his forehead. His hands had been cuffed to the side of the truck.

  Shunting his gun to one hand, Ben felt for Adrian’s pulse. His touch roused the firefighter and he groaned.

  ‘Adrian?’ he shouted.

  He lifted his head lazily, his eyes fluttering open. Fear bulged in them and he scrambled to get away.

  ‘It’s okay, mate,’ Ben said. ‘You’re fine. What happened?’

  Adrian’s chest heaved as he got control of himself, then he doubled over and coughed. How much smoke had he inhaled?

  ‘Some guy came at me—’ He coughed and spat black spit. ‘From behind. I didn’t get a good look at the bastard. Get me out of these, will ya?’ He rattled his hands. ‘There’ll be some bolt cutters on the tray above my head.’

  Ben grabbed the tool and opened its jaws.

  Adrian pulled the cuffs taut. ‘He’s taken my jacket and my mask. Where’s Toby?’
r />   ‘Not here. I think he’s been taken hostage.’ He applied pressure and the link snapped.

  Freed, Adrian struggled to stand.

  Ben helped him up. ‘Backup’s coming.’

  Adrian leaned against the side of the truck. ‘If they’re in the fire, then they don’t have long. Things can change fast in there and it’s only getting worse.’

  ‘Then I’m going in.’ He turned to leave.

  Adrian grabbed his arm. ‘It’ll be suicide, Ben.’

  ‘I’m not leaving Toby in there to die. You do what you can but I’m going after them.’

  Maybe Jared will take me and let Toby go instead.

  ‘At least take some protection.’ Adrian opened the back of the truck and pulled out a coat and a mask. ‘Use them. I’ll try to keep the fire at bay but we’re up against it.’

  Ben put on the gear and crept to the edge of the truck. He peered around into the forest fire, the land undulating as it deepened towards the springs where it descended into a fiery amphitheatre. Smoke wafted out and in the gloom he spotted a man-shaped shadow ahead. Only one. His palms sweated, making the hold on his Glock shaky.

  He marched out of his cover, his weapon pointing in front of him. Navigating around burning patches of ground, he struggled to define distances and details. He tensed, ready for the shot that’d blow his head off. Flames roared around and over him, glaring down at him as he advanced. The figure stayed where it was, sharpening as the smoke thickened, thinned, then parted to reveal not Jared, but Toby.

  The breath he’d been holding exploded out of his lungs. Toby. Alive. His hands were up, his helmet gone, but he had his coat and the mask kept him from suffocating. Behind him waved claws of yellow, orange and deep red that lashed out to snare him and drag him into hell.

  But where was Jared?

  ‘Are you alright?’ Ben shouted, coming closer.

  Toby’s eyes widened, but he needn’t have worried with the warning. Jared edged out from behind him, enough to reveal the shotgun levelled at Toby’s head.

  Ben’s pulse resounded through his body in measured and certain beats. Faster than normal but steady. Police training kicked in and he fixed Jared’s head within his sights; it was the only part of him clearly visible.