by Pamela Clare
He bolted out the door, stunned by what he saw.
“Son of a bitch.”
The fire was moving faster than he’d imagined.
He set out at a run, heading south toward his truck, wind dropping embers in the dried grass around him, igniting small fires that swelled and grew.
Several mule deer with fawns ran out of the trees and across the meadow. They were running for their lives, too.
Austin glanced over his shoulder, saw Bear’s cabin go up in flames.
You’re not going to make it back.
The thought struck him in the solar plexus, sent adrenaline surging through his veins. Then his training kicked in, his mind racing through his options. He didn’t have a fire shelter or a magic wand or a helicopter or…
Azure Lake.
He turned and ran as fast as he could toward the lake, heart slamming, thighs burning as he pushed himself to his physical limit.
A bull moose.
It paid no attention to him but ran past him and kept going.
Austin could see a glimmer of blue through the trees, the fire close enough now to feel hot against his skin. If he didn’t make it to the water, if he couldn’t push himself harder, he would never see Lexi or Emily again.
A tree to his left went up in flame, the fire roaring behind him.
He threw himself forward, away from the searing heat, stumbling down the embankment and into the chilly water, not far behind the moose. The big animal stopped out in the middle and laid down, not seeming to notice Austin.
I hope you don’t mind sharing, big guy.
But now the fire was here, the roar of it horrific, the heat unbearable, smoke choking the air. Flames leaped from tree top to tree top, engulfing the forest around him. It was the most terrifying and the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.
Heart thudding, Austin dropped to his knees, raised his backpack to cover his head, and sank down in the water up to his neck, the water cold against his skin. The lake was a few feet below the level of the forest, protecting him from the worst of the smoke and gases. He would probably become hypothermic, but that beat the hell out of burning alive. Breathing hard, he kept his mouth close to the water’s surface where the air was cooler and less smoky, embers landing with a hiss in the water around him. If he could keep from inhaling too much smoke or heated air, he could survive.
Chaska stepped outside the Dining Hall, made his way to the tool shed, hoping to fix the broken ice maker. He’d taken just a few steps when he heard a bawling sound.
He turned, looked behind him.
Three bear cubs ran out of the forest, followed by their mother.
They didn’t stop. They didn’t seem even to notice the children playing dodgeball nearby. They ran through camp, headed out of the canyon.
Chills skittered down Chaska’s spine.
What would make a mother bear run like that?
He caught the scent of smoke on the breeze, ran to the nearest tall ponderosa pine, and climbed its branches to get a better view.
Son of a…
Fire stretched across the horizon, orange flames rising above the tops of the trees. A crown fire. It looked like it was directly below Pinnacles now, a massive cliff of eroded rock. It was burning through Haley Preserve and headed straight for them.
“What do you see?” Old Man asked from below.
Naomi stood there, too, along with a dozen or so children.
“Why is he climbing the tree?”
“I don’t know,” Naomi answered. “I guess he wants to see something.”
He answered his grandfather in Lakota to keep from alarming the kids. “Peta.”
Fire.
He downclimbed as fast as he could. “We need to leave camp—now. There’s a forest fire headed this way.”
Naomi’s eyes went wide. “What?”
Chaska hurried toward the front porch of the Dining Hall, Naomi a step behind him. “There’s an active crown fire headed this way. Did you see the family of bears that ran out of the forest just now? They were fleeing a fire.”
“What are we going to do? We only have three vehicles.”
Naomi had picked up most of the camp counselors from the airport with the camp’s 12-passenger van, while the kids had arrived by chartered bus. The van couldn’t hold all forty-three kids, let alone the camp counselors, and the chartered bus wouldn’t be coming for them again until the last day of camp.
“We use what we have, pack as many kids into the van and into the two other vehicles as possible.” Chaska rang the dinner bell.
Counselors and kids alike stopped their activities—some were still watching the fleeing bears—and turned to look at Chaska.
“Everyone, listen!” He raised his voice to be heard. “We need to evacuate camp now. There’s no time to gather your belongings. Counselors, get your kids to the vehicles now. We’ll load as many children as we can. No time to get your things. No time for discussion. Move!”
Kat stepped onto the porch, holding one of her kids on her hip, the other two following behind her. “What’s wrong?”
Naomi lowered her voice, but Chaska could hear her fear. “There’s a forest fire headed this way.”
Kat’s eyes went wide. “Gabe took our car into town. He doesn’t know. I have no way of getting me or the kids out.”
“We’ll find a way.” Chaska set off toward the vehicles. “Naomi, do you have the keys to the van?”
“They’re inside.”
“Get them now. You’re driving. Hurry!”
Smoke hung in the air over camp now, the fire getting nearer.
How much time did they have?
Chaska called out to the counselors. “Naomi will drive the van, and the owners of the two other vehicles will drive their own cars. We pack as many kids in as we can, and then you drive.”
“What about the rest of us?” asked one of the counselors.
“I don’t have an answer for that yet.”
Naomi returned with the keys, clicked the fob, opening the sliding door.
“Come on, kids.” He helped Mona into the van. “Go all the way to the back, Spider Girl. Keep moving. Hurry now.”
He picked children up, one after the other. “Big kids, hold a smaller child on your lap. That’s right. Squeeze in as tight as you can.”
One of the counselors got in his face. “You can’t pack so many kids in here. There aren’t enough seatbelts.”
Chaska fought to keep the irritation out of his voice. Did people not get it? “Seatbelts don’t matter right now.”
All that mattered was survival.
He saw Old Man helping children into one of the counselor’s SUVs, while Naomi did a head count amid the chaos.
They managed to cram twenty kids in the van—not even standing room left. Another eleven fit in the SUV. Eight fit in the little blue Prius. That left Kat and her three children, together with fourteen camp counselors, Old Man, and Chaska.
Naomi got into the driver’s seat, tears in her eyes. “I can’t just leave you here.”
“It’s going to be okay.” He cupped her cheek. “You need to take care of yourself and the baby—and all of these children.”
He gave her a quick kiss, helped her into the driver’s seat, shut the door. “Don’t stop for anything. You need to be gone before the fire reaches the road. Go!”
She started the engine, backed up, and turned, driving down the dirt road toward safety, the Prius and the Ford Explorer following.
Chaska exhaled in relief.
The sound of a siren.
Flashing overheads.
Old Man grinned. “It’s the cavalry.”
A sheriff’s vehicle sped toward them, passing the van and the other vehicles. In front of it was a familiar SUV.
“Gabe!” Kat ran forward.
Rossiter pulled to a stop, jumped out. “Kat, you and the kids are leaving—now.”
“You’re going, too, right?”
Gabe shook his head. “We’ve
got room for the kids plus a couple of adults in there. I’ll stay here and wait for the next sheriff’s vehicle. Deputy Marcs got a call off to Dispatch. They know we’re here.”
But Kat didn’t budge. “Are you sure they’re coming?”
The hard set of Rossiter’s jaw told Chaska he knew there wasn’t time.
“I’ll be fine.” Rossiter took the car seats out of the car to make more room. “Alissa, Nakai, come on. Get in. You’re going to sit on someone’s lap.”
Deputy Marcs called out to them. “I’ve got room for five adults, maybe six, but we have to move now.”
“We can fit four or five in here.” Rossiter met Chaska’s gaze, understanding passing between them. “I volunteer to stay. Anyone else?”
Chaska nodded. “I’ll stay.”
Old Man raised a hand. “I’m staying, too. This old man has had a good life.”
The remaining counselors glanced at each other, one in tears, some clearly on the brink of panic, some calm and focused. One of the women and most of the men volunteered to remain behind. In the end, Deputy Marcs packed six in her vehicle, while Kat fit five, leaving three counselors, Rossiter, Old Man, and Chaska.
There was no time for goodbyes.
“Go!” Rossiter slammed his hand on the roof of his own vehicle.
“There is no sheriff’s vehicle coming, is there?” asked one of the younger men.
“Probably not.” Rossiter’s gaze was fixed on his vehicle as it drove away.
The fire was dangerously close now, embers floating on the wind.
Chaska glanced around, at the camp. After all the hard work he and Naomi had put into this place, it was all going to burn. But he didn’t intend to burn with it.
“Now what?” asked one of the counselors.
Old Man turned and walked toward the tipi. “I gotta get the drum.”
“The drum?”
“It’s the heartbeat of our ancestors. I won’t leave it behind.”
“We’re not going anywhere, Grandfather,” said one of the counselors.
Chaska glanced up at the rock walls that surrounded them to the east and north, looking for a way out. It wouldn’t do them any good to climb the canyon wall because the fire would spread to the trees up there, too.
Then Rossiter pointed upward. “Is that what I think it is?”
Concealed behind an arete and a hundred feet above the ground, Chaska saw it.
A cave.
“Let go of me!”
A child’s voice.
What the hell?
Chaska turned to see Old Man carrying the drum—and pulling Dean along with him. “How the hell did this happen?”
He’d thought all the children were safe.
Rossiter stared. “Holy shit.”
“I found him hiding in the tipi.”
Dean glared defiantly up at Chaska, tears on his cheeks. “I don’t want to go home.”
Chaska’s heart broke for the boy. He would rather face the unknown horrors of a wildfire than go home. “Okay, you’re with us. But you have to do exactly what we tell you to do.”
Dean nodded.
Rossiter took off at a run.
“What’s he doing?” Old Man asked.
Chaska was pretty sure he knew. “Getting ropes.”
Fighting tears, Lexi fastened Emily into her car seat and then lifted their black Lab, Mack, who was inside his crate, into the back of her Lexus. She’d called Austin and texted him, but he hadn’t answered. Last she’d heard, he was staffing a roadblock.
He had told her this day might come. He’d said it was the risk they took by choosing to live in the wildland-urban interface. He’d warned her not to be sentimental but to grab the basics and get out. But no warning could prepare her for the reality of leaving her home like this.
She ran through a quick mental checklist, her thoughts scattered by adrenaline. She had all the important papers—passports, birth certificates, professional certifications, Emily’s and Mack’s immunization records. She’d packed her duplicate hard drive with all of her client records. She’d grabbed their computers and flash drives, including the one with the video that Eric and Vic had made for their wedding. She’d packed clothes and toiletries. She’d taken Emily’s and Mack’s favorite toys, as well as dog food and people snacks. She’d also grabbed the album of old family photos from before her mother’s death.
That was the important stuff.
She tried not to think of what she was leaving behind, but couldn’t help it. The quilt she’d had since she was four. Framed photos. Her romance novels. All of their Christmas decorations. Her wedding dress. Austin’s climbing gear—itself worth thousands of dollars.
Tears streaming down her cheeks, she sent her father a quick text message to ask whether he needed help evacuating. Then she backed out of the garage and drove down the road toward the highway into town, Emily humming to herself in the backseat, blissfully unaware of what was unfolding in her life.
Lexi focused on the drive to Boulder. It was going to be chaos. Three highways converged in Scarlet, but two were already closed because they followed the rivers up into the mountains toward the fire. That left only one way out of the mountains for almost fifteen hundred residents.
She reached the highway, found bumper-to-bumper traffic, waited to merge.
Herb, who’d been the town’s pharmacist since before Lexi was born, stopped for her, flashed his brights, and waved for her to merge.
She waved back, joining her neighbors as they moved slowly downhill away from danger. It was bumper-to-bumper traffic down into Scarlet proper, cars, trucks hauling horse trailers, and SUVs inching along.
Then ahead she saw flashing lights—firefighters trying to get through.
Almost as one, the column of traffic pulled over, driving onto sidewalks and front lawns to make room for the men and women who were trying to save their town.
A hotshot crew.
It headed up the canyon in the opposite direction from everyone else, the words IHC PINE RIDGE HOTSHOTS on the side.
“Stay safe.” Lexi knew they couldn’t hear her, but it felt good to say something.
A helicopter rose off the reservoir and flew over town, hose dangling beneath it.
Her cell phone buzzed—a message from Kendra.
Your dad refuses to go. He wants to go down with the ship. Stubborn S.O.B!
Lexi let out an exasperated groan. “Dad!”
She knew Austin would want her to keep going and let the sheriff deal with her father, but she couldn’t just leave him. She had to at least try to talk some sense into his head. For all of his failings—and he had many—he was her father, and she loved him.
She flipped on her turn signal, waited until she reached First Street, and made a left. There, standing in front of the Inn, was her father, garden hose in hand, spraying down the building.
She drove up, pulled over, climbed out. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
Kendra charged out of the front door. “Thank God, you’re here! I loaded up the car, but I can’t get him to go.”
“I’m not leaving. You two head on down the canyon.”
Kendra stamped her foot. “If you stay, I stay.”
Across the street, Rose hurried out of her shop, ran down the stairs with a box in her arms, and shoved the box into her white Chevy Tahoe. Next to her, Marley was rolling a dolly loaded merchandise—medical and recreational marijuana—out to a small truck.
He waved to Lexi, shouting to be heard. “I don’t want this all going up in smoke!”
She knew he was trying to be funny, but she couldn’t laugh. She walked up to her father, jerked the hose from him. “Dad, why are you doing this?”
He took the hose back, pressed his thumb against the nozzle, sending a jet of water onto the roof. “It didn’t burn in 1878, and I can’t let it burn now.”
“Dad, you could be hurt—or killed. How do you think Kendra, Britta, and I
would feel if the Inn survived, but we lost you?”
He kept spraying. “I promised your mama when they lowered her into her grave that I would pass the Inn onto you and your sister or die trying.”
“You stubborn bastard!” Kendra looked both angry—and hurt.
She had always been jealous of Lexi’s mother’s memory.
“I owe this to my daughters.”
Tears filling her eyes, Lexi touched a hand to her father’s arm. “No, you don’t. Mom wouldn’t want this either. She’d want you to be safe.”
“You go on, Lexi. Take that sweet baby girl with you. I’ll be fine.”
“Hey, Bob!” Rose called from across the street. “I’m about to take off. Since you’re staying, can you spray down my shop, too, make sure it doesn’t burn?”
Lexi’s father turned around and sprayed Rose with the hose, soaking her while she screamed. “You want to save your shop? Stay, and spray it yourself!”
“Come on, Dad. Let’s go. I can’t just leave—” Lexi’s phone buzzed.
It was Rick Sutherland, Austin’s boss.
“Hey, Lexi, have you heard from Austin?”
“No. I sent a few texts but haven’t heard back. He told me he was staffing a barricade.”
Silence.
Lexi’s pulse skipped. “Is something wrong?”
“He asked for permission to head out to Bear’s place on Haley Preserve. Radio contact out there isn’t good. We lost touch with him a while ago.”
Across the street, a furious Rose was shouting at Lexi’s father.
“I’m sure he’ll contact you as soon as he can.”
“Haley Preserve burned over ten minutes ago. We don’t know for certain he was there when it did. That’s why we’re calling around.”
“Wh-what?” Lexi’s heart seemed to stop, her mind struggling to understand what Rick had just told her.
“I hate to say it, but the fire moved through there ten minutes ago.”
She managed a single word. “N-no.”
Chapter 11
Vicki helped Rico put a day’s worth of prep into the walk-in fridge, her thoughts on Eric. He’d texted her not long ago, so she knew he was safe. Still, her heart hurt for him.