“Thanks, Dispatch. We’re headed in to the coordinates you sent.”
“Copy that. Be safe, Twelve.”
Jax’s crew was small, but they’d been working together for the last two years and he’d partnered with Simon for even longer than that. He knew he could trust each and every one of them, and they knew what they were doing. “Ready?”
“Sure thing.” Simon took the lead, followed by Dave, Carlos, Franklin, with Jax in the rear. The acrid stench of burned wood was lighter here than the area they’d been working last, but it was still a strong stench and the gray clouds of smoke made the sky look angry and overcast. They stuck to the trail at first, calling out Scottie’s name. Scanning the huckleberry bushes and small pine trees on the gentler slopes, Jax didn’t see any sign of a hiker.
Jax called a halt when the forest thickened about halfway to the camp coordinates. “If he was coming back and went off trail for some reason, he’d be easy to miss from here on out. Let’s fan out. Dave, keep to the trail, we’ll do a line on either side. Make sure you stay in shouting distance.” The wind felt like it was shifting, but it was hard to tell in the trees as they swayed this way and that.
The going was harder after that. They were still gaining elevation but ravines slowed them down—full of bushes and small trees that caught at their feet. Jax struggled up a hill, glad of his thick gloves protecting his palms as he used bear grass to help pull himself up the slope. “Scottie!” The closer they got to the camp, the angrier he got. They were headed right into one side of the fire, and the back-burn was coming for them even faster.
Where the hell was the idiot they were risking their lives for?
“Scottie,” Jax bellowed. He listened, but all he heard was his own crew moving through the woods, calling out Scottie’s name.
“Scottie Ness,” Dave shouted.
“Like there’s another Scottie out here?” Jax muttered. He checked his GPS. They were nearly on top of the campsite on the map. Maybe they’d be able to see it from the top of the ravine. He dropped his handheld and kept moving.
The top of the steep slope did level off. The trees petered out into a meadow full of grass. Dave was on the path, so Jax stepped out of the tree line and waited for the others to catch up. They all grouped together near the path. Simon bent over, his hands on his knees, puffing for air. “Damn hill at the end was nearly vertical, I swear.”
“Anyone see any sign of this guy? Footprints? Garbage?”
They all shook their heads. Jax took a drink, draining most of the water he had with him. “All right, everyone hydrate really fast. Then we fan out in a search line. His camp had to be here in this meadow.”
Stretching out into a staggered line again, they began to walk through the grass. Jax used his ax to sweep the grass for any indication the idiot had gone his direction.
“Over here!” Carlos called.
Jax hightailed it over to the far end of their search line. He caught sight of the tarp on the ground, and then he saw a leg sticking out. Carlos and Simon were carefully lifting a thick branch lying across the tarp.
Dave grabbed a corner of the small tarp and pulled it off. The wind whipped it up, and he let the tarp go. It blew against a tree across the clearing. “Shit, it’s really coming from the east now. We’ve got a problem, Jax.”
“I know. Keep an eye on the skyline for flames. Scottie?”
No reply.
“Shit.” They didn’t have a lot of medical equipment with them beyond basic first aid, certainly not a neck collar. The guy was on his stomach and there was blood matting down the hair near his temple. He’d obviously taken a blow to the head while trying to take down his camp based on the way things were halfway packed. Jax didn’t want to move him until he was able to respond to them and answer a few questions.
“Get out the first aid kit.” Jax dropped to his knees beside Scottie. Franklin swung his pack off his shoulders and dug out the full-size kit he carried. Jax checked for a pulse first, but he could see Scottie was breathing, so he wasn’t too concerned about his heart and lungs. Jax trickled a little of their purified water over the gash in his head so they could see through his thick brown hair and Franklin could assess how bad the wound was.
It wasn’t good, but he couldn’t see skull and his scalp was cut but appeared mostly intact. “Ammonia.” They needed to get Scottie awake and in a hurry. The smoke was getting strong enough to burn his eyes. Franklin broke open an ampoule and waved it in front of Scottie’s nose. The stink of the ammonia broke right through the smoke, and Jax grimaced. He hovered with his hands just over Scottie’s shoulders and nodded for Franklin to wave the ammonia under his nose again.
“Wha—” He broke off with a groan when Jax carefully pressed him to the ground, not letting him up.
“Stay still. You were hurt, and we need to check you out before you move.”
“My head….” Scottie slid his hand toward his head.
“Don’t move.” At least he didn’t appear to have a traumatic neck injury. Now that he was at least semiconscious, Scottie had moved both his arms and legs. “You have a cut on your head and probably a concussion. Does anything else hurt? Your neck? Back? Joints?”
“No. Gon… throw up.”
Jax grimaced. “Try not to. Slow breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth.”
Franklin stuck two fingers against Scottie’s palms. “Can you make fists? Now squeeze.” He looked up at Jax and nodded. “He’s probably good.”
“All right. Let’s see about sitting you up, then.”
Franklin and Jax helped Scottie sit up, but as soon as he was vertical he began retching. Jax tried to scramble away from his side before he turned his head and spewed up sour-smelling bile, but Scottie still managed to get his pants leg. Just fucking perfect. Scottie started to dry heave, and then he coughed and spit repeatedly.
“Fuck.” He drew out the word in a long groan.
Jax took Scottie’s weight as Franklin let him go. He dug out a fresh bottle of water and opened it. “Here. Take a sip, swish out your mouth, but spit it out. Don’t try to swallow.”
“Ugh.” Scottie did what Franklin told him, rinsing out his mouth several times. He sagged in Jax’s arms, a fine tremble running through him. “Who’re you?” he slurred.
“We’re the suckers who got stuck coming out here looking for you,” Jax said.
Using a small flashlight, Franklin checked his eyes. “Both of his pupils are blown and the right is bigger than the left. He’s definitely concussed. I don’t see any other injuries besides the scalp laceration. I’m going to bandage it really fast and then we can see about getting him up. He might vomit again. Might as well be you doing it, since he already nailed you once.”
“Great. Thanks a lot, Franklin.” Scottie was shorter and a lot leaner than he was, so supporting him wasn’t much of an effort. He looked around the small camp while Franklin took care of wrapping bandages several times around Scottie’s head to hold down the gauze pads. The others were already packing up the stuff left out of the pack sitting off to the side.
He scanned the meadow, not liking the flames he could see on a hill far too close to their location. “Guys, leave his stuff if you can’t get it packed.”
“It’ll only take a second. He’s got some nice gear, and he was almost done.” Simon stuck the rolled up tarp through the front straps while Dave finished bagging up the tent.
“Mm camera,” Scottie slurred. He seemed to be getting worse, not better.
“It’s here,” Simon assured him as he kept packing.
Scottie jerked his head sideways when Jax held him up and then gagged, reaching for his head.
“Don’t touch!” Jax pushed his hand away from the bandages. He tried to aim Scottie away from him in case he vomited again, but all he did was gag a few times, panting hard between spasms.
“We need to get this guy to medical help. There’s no telling how long he was unconscious, and he’s not in any shape
to tell us anything.”
“At least we can take the trail this time,” Dave said. “It’s rough going in a few places, but it’s downhill. He should be able to manage it if you can keep him on his feet, Jax.”
“Done packing his stuff.” Simon looped the straps from his pack board around the backpack and fastened them together. “Ready to go.” He alerted Dispatch to their situation and to have medical personnel standing by.
“Remember to stand him up slowly,” Franklin said.
“I got it.” Jax kept one arm on Scottie’s shoulders as he maneuvered onto his knees and then into a squatting position. Scottie’s smaller size made it easier to draw him to his feet until they were standing. Jax probably had fifty pounds of muscle on the guy, so he was able to keep him upright when he wobbled.
“Nnnn good. High.” Scottie’s eyes were narrow slits, and he was breathing through his mouth.
Jax ignored his gibberish and his foul breath. “You have to walk.” He put his arm around Scottie’s waist and tried to get him moving. The slender brunet took two steps and then went as limp as a wet noodle. “Shit!” Scottie’s face was slack. Jax pressed his fingers to Scottie’s neck, relieved to find a strong pulse.
“I think he’s unconscious again.”
“Well throw him over your shoulders and let’s go.”
It was probably the best scenario to get back to the truck quickly. Jax could hear the fire, and the wind had changed direction yet again, blowing directly toward their faces. It took every bit of his training to remain in control. He wanted to move faster, but it wasn’t possible. Smoke drifted through the trees, and the acrid stench was strong enough to block out the scent of vomit on his pants, at least.
They jogged any time they hit a relatively safe stretch of the path with a gradual slope. Jax was picking his way carefully down one of the sections broken up by rocks and tree roots, one hand on a large tree next to the path and the other holding Scottie balanced over his shoulders, but then Scottie shoved himself up with one hand on Jax’s back.
Small rocks under Jax’s boots rolled, and he lost his footing. He tried to catch himself and avoid dropping Scottie, but his foot went through the dirt between some roots, and he went sideways.
“Son of a bitch!” Jax yelled.
Scottie landed in a large patch of ferns, groaning. Jax lay there, white-hot pain lancing through his knee. He’d twisted his body sideways but his foot was still facing straight ahead down the path.
That wasn’t good.
“Jax!” Carlos had been behind him, and he was there first. “Hold on, man.”
Franklin went to Scottie, and Dave and Simon came back to help Carlos. Jax cursed as they picked him up under each arm and got him straightened back out, resting against the dirt and rocks on the path.
“We’re going to have to cut these roots.” Carlos pulled out a small hatchet. “Dave, you hold his leg.”
“Motherfucking son of a bitch!” Jax clenched his jaw and tried to keep the rest in as they cut the roots away from his leg and eased it out straight. Franklin didn’t need to check it. His knee was the size of a grapefruit already, pressing against his pants. “Put a splint on it and let’s fucking go.”
His crew exchanged glances. “Jax, this is your knee, man.”
“We’re in the middle of two fires about to converge. We have to get out of here. Put a goddamned splint on it, and let’s fucking go already.”
Franklin gave him a painkiller that did nothing to stop the pain when he did up a hasty wrap job on Jax’s knee to keep the joint straight. Sweat dripped down Jax’s face as Carlos and Dave pulled him up. He was bigger than both of them, but when he tried to put weight on his leg, the pressure in his knee felt as if it was going to pop like an overripe melon.
They were fucked. Simon put on Scottie’s pack and then helped him to his feet. He was still in and out, not exactly coherent. Franklin took the lead, and they began inching their way back down the mountain, barely moving at a walking speed.
Jax fought the pain as long as he could, but when an orange glow filled the path ahead, he knew they had to stop. “Get out the fire shelters. Now! Bring Scottie over here.” Jax was big enough that he had to use the large fire shelter. They’d fit in his together, but it would be a squeeze. With Scottie’s mental state questionable, there was no way they could put him in a fire shelter alone, even if they weren’t meant for two.
The ground on either side of the path was thick with vegetation, so his crew took precious minutes ripping out as much as they could on the steep bank on the uphill side of the path. They spread out, tossing their equipment as far away as possible. Carlos had Jax’s shelter out of its designated pocket and pulled the quick release tab, unfolding it and shaking it out. It took two tries to get him inside, and then they had to make Scottie get in with Jax—which he did not want to do.
“No!” Scottie squirmed and his thigh knocked into the brace on Jax’s leg.
Agony lanced through the swollen joint. “Shit! Stop moving.” Jax grabbed the back of Scottie’s neck and squeezed. “Be still.”
Scottie stopped fighting.
“Roll us up and get in your shelters. Be careful,” Jax ordered. The smell of sweat, blood, and vomit was suffocatingly thick when he pulled the opening together and held it while his guys helped turn the shelter so it was on the ground. They were about to be caught by their own fire.
Chapter Four
JAX WAS angry. Angry that Scottie got him hurt and for being in the woods in the first place and even angrier that his crew was in danger and there was fuck all he could do to help them. “Lie still,” he snapped when Scottie moved. He had one hand in a hold-down strap, but he had to use the other arm to keep Scottie flat on the ground on his belly, so his grip on the other strap wasn’t great.
“Hot.” He wouldn’t have heard what Scottie said if their faces weren’t side-by-side. “Air.” Scottie struggled with him, trying to push Jax away.
“Knock it the fuck off.” The fire was coming closer. Sap exploded in the trees and branches broke with loud cracks and fell around them. Just one had knocked Scottie out and hurt him pretty bad. The dirt bank next to the trail might help protect the fire shelters, but they were surrounded by weapons the fire could easily use against them. And it was so damn hot, it was like being in an oven. Jax fought to keep them both under his jacket, but his hand was too close to the side of the shelter and he’d put most of his protective gear on Scottie. It felt like his skin was already peeling off, and Jax cursed.
Pinholes in the shelter’s heat-resistant material let in the light from the approaching flames, and Jax knew they were both going to die if he didn’t keep Scottie from flipping out.
“We have to stay in here.” He pushed himself half on top of Scottie, shoving him down with his chest and hips. “Keep your face on that ground or I’m going to make you wish you had.” He didn’t want to put any pressure on Scottie’s head with his injury, but he wanted to get burned to a crisp even less. “Stay down,” he shouted one final time as the roar of the fire consuming the forest washed over them.
Scottie went limp. He was either unconscious again or Jax’s angry bark had made it through the fog of his concussion. They just had to hold on until the fire moved past them. He was pretty sure they were caught in the back burn they’d started instead of the main fire. The flames were going in the right direction. The speed the fire had moved was dangerous before, but now it could work in their favor. He couldn’t imagine surviving more than a few minutes of this.
Sticks and pinecones dropped on their fire shelter, and the wind whipped about and lifted the edges, trying to let the flames inside. Jax’s job was to control wildfires, and he would not die like this, trapped in a back burn he’d created.
Jax used his hand to dig out a shallow trench in the dirt, trying anything he could to get a little more air that didn’t feel like he was breathing with his head in an oven. He pressed his face cheek to cheek with Scottie’s as they br
eathed as low to the ground as possible to get the freshest air. Jax studied Scottie’s face, taking in his pale brown skin, long lashes, and full lips. Was he still breathing?
Jax just touched his cheek, but Scottie’s eyes snapped open and he reared back. It was too loud to hear what he said, but his struggles pulled the edge of the shelter away from Jax. He scrambled for the handle, grabbing it and pushing Scottie down at the same time. Adrenaline surged through him, and he strained his muscles to the max, not letting go of the shelter or Scottie. He breathed in short gasps, fighting the urge to hold his breath until the worst of it ended.
The temperature dropped in a span of seconds. The roar of the fire had passed over them, and they’d survived. Jax let go of the shelter handle and stopped pushing Scottie down.
Scottie’s face was covered in dirt. He blinked and licked his lips, then spit out the dirt and pine needles. “Who’re you?”
“I’m a firefighter, and my crew came to find you. You were hurt, and then we got trapped in a fire. Stay still until someone comes to help us.”
“M… head hurts.”
“That would be the concussion and head wound.”
“Head wound?” Scottie repeated.
Jax grimaced. “Yes. A tree limb hit you on the head. As soon as we get out of here, you’re going to the hospital.”
“Hot. No umbrella drinks.” Scottie sighed and closed his eyes, resting his cheek against the ground.
That didn’t make any sense. Was he getting worse? They needed a medical evac immediately. Jax’s radio wouldn’t work inside the fire shelter, so he had to get out. That was easier said than done, but finally he wrestled the edge out from under them and poked his head through the opening.
Smoke and the scent of charred pine couldn’t dampen the sheer relief of the cooler, fresher air outside of the shelter. He could still see the remnants of the fire, smaller hot spots burning here and there and the larger wall of flames still moving toward the main fire, consuming all the fuel on the way.
On Fire Page 3