Chasing Fire

by Pamela Clare

He told her how the shelter’s failure let in hotter air, how he’d clawed at the earth with his fingers while still keeping his hands in the straps just to reach soil that was cool enough to enable him to breathe.

  “The last thing I remember was taking a breath with my face in the dirt and feeling the darkness close in.” Eric’s throat went tight. “I asked God to watch over you and Caden and the new baby.”

  Vicki smiled through her tears. “He took care of you, too.”

  “The next thing I knew, Silver was staring down at me.” He told her about the terrible thirst and how Silver and Ramirez had given their morphine to him. “How are they doing? Have you heard?”

  “They’re on another floor. They’re going to be okay, too—thanks to you. I met the photojournalist’s wife. She’s a nice person. She’s about to have their first baby.” Then Vicki’s face crumpled. “I thought I’d never see you again, that our kids would have to grow up without you. It was bad enough believing that I’d lost you, but knowing you’d died such a horrible death… I just couldn’t bear that.”

  “Come here.” He reached for her, drew her head against his chest, let her cry it out, her tears seeming to wash away his anguish, too.

  Kenzie sat in the passenger seat as Harrison followed Rescue 1 and Rescue 2 and the Pine Ridge Hotshots up the road to Camp Mato Sapa, Marc and Julian and the rest of the Team following behind. The hotshots had asked to be a part of the rescue when they’d heard Lakota people from Pine Ridge were involved.

  “They’re our people,” Tall Bull, the superintendent, had told Megs. “Chaska Belcourt and I went to high school together.”

  Megs had agreed.

  Kenzie had done more than a few searches for human remains in her career as a search dog trainer, but she’d never done a search like this.

  Seven people. Three of them her friends. One a child.

  The destructive power of this fire was apparent everywhere Kenzie looked. Where there had once been dense mixed-conifer forest and stands of aspen there was now only ash and charred tree trunks, wisps of smoke twisting in the wind.

  “We were right here when we turned around. The entire road was engulfed.”

  “You did the right thing.” Kenzie reached over, put her hand on his thigh. “If you hadn’t turned around, I’d be out here searching for you, too.”

  Survivor guilt had come close to breaking Harrison after the Everest disaster. She wasn’t going to give it a second chance at him.

  He looked over at her, doubt in his eyes. “If I had seen any way to reach them…”

  “You would have gone after them, like you came after me in that blizzard. Trust that you did the right thing.”

  The crease between his brows deepened. “Yeah.”

  The sun was close to setting, the air still heavy with the scent of smoke. Not knowing where Gabe, Chaska, and the others might have run in their desperation to escape, they parked their vehicles at the entrance to the campground and stood together, surveying the destruction.

  There were no buildings, no structures of any kind, no sign that a thriving kids’ camp had stood here just a handful of hours ago.

  “God in heaven.” Megs stared at the desolation. “No one could have escaped this. There’s nowhere to run.”

  “I was here a few weeks ago to help Chaska set up the ropes course for the kids.” Sasha wiped tears from her face. “It’s all gone—all of it.”

  Her steps leaden, Kenzie went around to the back of the vehicle and opened the liftgate. “Are you ready to go to work, Gizmo?”

  She tried to act like this was any other search, but her voice quavered.

  Gizmo whined, sensing her despair.

  She opened his crate, leashed him, and lifted him to the ground. He wasn’t a young dog any longer, and she didn’t want him to hurt himself.

  She put protective booties on his paws to keep him from getting burned in case there were any hot spots out there. The people all wore fire boots for exactly that reason, and Kenzie never risked her dogs’ safety.

  She led Gizmo to the edge of the camp, tried to still the thrumming of her heart. Then she knelt, petted him. “These are our friends, buddy. Help us bring them home.”

  She removed the leash, stood. “Okay, Gizmo, search!”

  Gizmo was off, walking back and forth, his nose guiding him.

  Kenzie followed, letting him find his own way through hazardous terrain, while the others held back, not wanting to distract him.

  He’d gone maybe twenty feet when he stopped, raised his head, and barked. Then he took off, running as fast as his covered paws could carry him toward the far side of the camp.

  Stunned, Kenzie shouted for him, tried to get him to come back. “Gizmo!”

  When that failed, she ran after him. “Gizmo! Stop!”

  He ignored her, veered to the left, crossed a little creek, and sat, staring upward.

  Breathing hard, Kenzie splashed her way across the creek to Gizmo’s side.

  “Hey, Kenzie!”

  Kenzie looked up, stared open-mouthed, blood rushing to her head. “G-Gabe?”

  He was bent down, peering at her from the mouth of what looked like a little cave a hundred feet above her. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “You’re alive!” Happiness washed through her, a golden wave of joy.

  “Hell, yes, we’re alive—all seven of us—and we’re hungry.”

  Kenzie turned back toward the Team, pointed at the cave, and found herself shrieking and jumping up and down like a kid on Christmas morning. “They’re here! They’re up here!”

  The rest of the Team ran toward her.

  Chaska peered out from behind Gabe. “Hey, Kenzie.”

  Harrison was the first to reach her. He stared up at the cliff wall, stunned. “What the hell? How did you get up there?”

  “We climbed.”

  Creed, Jesse, Marc, Julian, Bahir, and the hotshots were there now, too. Creed and Jesse whooped. The Hotshots stood together in a group, laughing.

  “Hau, kola!” Tall Bull called up the Chaska, who looked astonished.

  Hello, friend.

  “Tall Bull?”

  Marc glared up at Gabe. “You son of a bitch! I’m going to kick your ass!”

  Gabe apparently thought all of this was funny. “Hey, Hunter, you’re here, too? Darcangelo, hey, man. Good to see you!”

  Julian stared. “You have more lives than a fucking cat!”

  Naomi, Kat and the kids—are they safe?” Gabe asked.

  “Yes!” Kenzie shouted back. “They all made it out.”

  Creed walked up to the rock, studied it, clearly trying to figure out how Gabe and the others had done it. “How did you pull this off, man? There’s not much here.”

  “We had a lot of incentive.”

  Jesse looked back at the burned forest. “I bet they did.”

  Gabe grinned, waved. “Hey, Sasha, Nicole, Megs.”

  Sasha and Nicole did what Kenzie had done, jumping up and down, hugging each other, and shrieking. But it was the relief on Megs’ face that brought tears to Kenzie’s eyes.

  She bent double as if to catch her breath, then stood upright, and called up to Gabe. “I see you did what you do best!”

  “Old habits die hard!” he called back.

  Then Megs reached for her hand mic. “Scarlet Command, sixteen-oh-one, we have seven survivors.”

  Her voice quavered. She released the mic.

  Was Megs crying?

  “Damned smoke.” She blinked, wiped her eyes, cleared her throat, and then took hold of the mic again. “Yes, seven survivors. They sheltered in a freaking cave about a hundred feet off the forest floor. Make sure someone notifies their families.”

  Chaska stuck his head out again. “So, I’ve got a plan for getting us out of here. Anyone want to hear it?”

  “Sure,” Jesse answered. “Hit me.”

  Kenzie’s work as part of the Team was done. While the others talked through the rescue, she knelt
next to Gizmo and gave him a whole handful of treats. She’d sent him to find bodies, and he’d found living people instead.

  She rubbed his silky chest, ash and soot on his fur. “Good job, Gizmo. Good job.”

  Chaska was the last to set foot on the ground. He was greeted with cheers, slaps on the back, hugs, and a kiss on the cheek from Sasha. Then someone shoved a cold bottle of water in his hands. “Thanks.”

  He tore off the top and drank the entire thing.

  Rossiter swept Megs up in a hug. “Sorry to worry you. I love you, Megs.”

  “If the next words out of your mouth are, ‘like a mother,’ you’re dead.”

  They made their way back to the vehicles in the twilight, Dean sticking close to Old Man. The two of them had bonded in that cave.

  Tall Bull waited for Chaska. “Good to see you alive.”

  He and Chaska had gone to high school together. That seemed a lifetime ago.

  “Thanks. Good to see you, too, man.”

  “I hear you got a pretty Lakota wife and a baby on the way.”

  God, Chaska couldn’t wait to hold Naomi in his arms. “How about you?”

  “On my second wife. Three kids. There aren’t a lot of women who can handle being married to a man who’s away from home for almost half the year.”

  Chaska could see how that might be hard. “See that boy with Old Man? He hid when we evacuated the camp because he thought he was going home. From what he’s told us, life there is pretty rough. We’re going to get in touch with tribal authorities, but do you think you can look in on him once in a while when you’re around?”

  “I can do better than that.” Tall Bull left Chaska and joined Old Man. “Hey, Grandfather, who is this boy who survived the fire with you in the cave?”

  “This is Dean.”

  “Is he a brave boy?”

  Old Man rested a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “What he did today—waiting out the fire in that cave—was very brave.”

  Tall Bull tousled Dean’s hair. “Dean, since you’re such a brave boy, would you like to ride back to town with me, Old Man, and the other hotshots?”

  Chaska couldn’t help but smile.

  Dean looked up at Tall Bull, clearly star-struck, and nodded.

  Tall Bull looked over his shoulder at Chaska, their gazes meeting.

  “We’re going to get you all cleared by medical, and then you can go home,” Megs said.

  “Scarlet is still there?” Rossiter asked.

  “It’s still standing, though a lot of homes in the mountain to the west burned. They’re still mopping up spot fires.” Megs opened the door to Rescue 1. “We’ll catch you up on the way into town. But first, I need to hear how you got up there.”

  Rossiter rode down with his buddies, while Chaska rode with Megs. He told her how they’d spotted the cave and how Rossiter had free soloed his way up and set up a make-shift pulley system.

  “Rossiter is a bad ass.” Creed grinned.

  Chaska had to agree with Creed. “I free soloed part of the route while they were pulling Old Man up. Those holds were thin. I’m not sure I could have done it. Rossiter tossed me the rope and pulled me up just as the fire reached us. Without him, I probably wouldn’t have made it. None of us would have made it.”

  “We need to give him a raise,” Megs joked.

  Team members were volunteers. No one, not even Megs, earned a wage.

  “What happened in Scarlet?”

  “Hawke did one hell of a job,” Megs said. “I wish he’d seen that Supertanker fly over town. Oh, you two don’t know about Hawke, do you? Or Taylor?”

  Chaska listened as Megs told them what had happened—the fire overtaking Taylor, his mad dash to a nearby lake, Bear finding him hypothermic afterward. “Talk about a close call.”

  “He’ll be coming home, soon.” Then Megs told him about Hawke.

  Chaska felt sick for the man. “Third-degree burns?”

  “He’s out of surgery and stable. Vicki is with him. The doctors told her he’s going to be there for at least a month and that he’ll need skin grafts. Silver and the others have second-degree burns. They’re keeping them overnight.”

  “Please tell me they caught the bastards who flew the drone.”

  Megs nodded. “Rossiter’s friends caught them—a couple of college kids.”

  Chaska knew this had to have been hell on Megs. “How are you holding up?”

  Megs drew a breath. “Now that I won’t be going to your funerals, I’m dandy.”

  Sasha turned around, looked back at them from the front passenger seat. “You scared the hell out of us. I’ve been crying all day.”

  For sunny Sasha, that was something.

  They pulled into the parking lot at Mountain Memorial, where a skeleton crew had stayed on to offer triage to firefighters. Chaska walked over to the hotshot buggy, watched as Old Man climbed out, drum under his arm, Tall Bull and Dean behind him.

  Dean wore a look of awe on his face. “Can I be a hotshot, too?”

  “If you stay healthy and strong and work hard, yes.” Tall Bull bent down to Dean’s level. “How about I come check on you when I get back to the rez?”

  Dean smiled again, nodded.

  Tall Bull stood, looked over at Chaska. “See you around, brother.”

  Then he climbed back in the buggy.

  Dean stared after him, watched the buggy drive away.

  Old Man stood beside the boy, put a hand on his shoulder. “Now you know what a true warrior is.”

  Megs came up to Chaska, handed him her phone. “Someone really wants to talk to you.”

  The sound of Naomi’s voice put a hitch in Chaska’s chest. “Yes, we’re all fine. We’re on our way down to you now. We just need to get cleared and find some wheels. See you soon. I love you, too.”

  In the ER, the seven of them were given a quick exam and some crackers and then released. Chaska and Old Man stayed close to Dean, who probably wasn’t used to the technology, let alone being around so many white folks.

  Back outside, Chaska found Conrad waiting for him.

  “Rossiter is heading down with Hunter and Darcangelo. You, your grandfather, and the others can ride with Kenzie and me.”

  Wendy from the newspaper rushed up to them, a woman Chaska didn’t recognize beside her. Both held up digital recorders. “God, I’m glad you’re okay. Everyone thought … Can you tell us what happened up there?”

  But all Chaska wanted in the world right now was to hold Naomi. “Ask Megs. She can tell you all about it. I want to see my wife.”

  Chapter 21

  Naomi had never been more relieved or more exhausted in her life. They were all safe and whole and alive—Chaska, little Dean, Grandpa Belcourt, the three camp counselors. But somehow the good news had left her feeling limp as a ragdoll.

  When she’d gotten the call from Megs, Naomi had expected the worst. She’d thought she’d get confirmation that Chaska and Grandpa Belcourt had been killed, along with three camp counselors and another woman’s child—a child whose life had been hers to protect. Instead, she’d gotten the best news possible.

  Megs had explained to her how the eight of them had survived, taking shelter in a cave a hundred feet up the side of a cliff. Then she’d handed the phone to Chaska.

  Naomi had heard his voice—and burst into tears of sheer relief. Afterward, she’d gone in search of Kat, but Kat was already speaking with Gabe and getting the story from him. That left Winona, who had come running from the pavilion when she’d gotten Naomi’s text message.

  That had been a half hour ago.

  They would be here soon.

  Naomi willed herself to stay focused. The children had had a rough day, too, fleeing a wildfire, seeing the adults around them driven to near-panic. She divided the kids into four groups, settling each with a camp counselor. They were playing games suggested by Esri, who was a trauma therapist, to help the kids process their experience today—games about feelings and games like Simon Says to help ki
ds focus on the here and now by using their bodies.

  Everyone was being so kind. One of the local churches had brought hot meals for the kids—spaghetti with meatballs and salad. A daycare center had donated some storybooks and toys. A local grocery chain had brought breakfast cereals, cookies, and milk.

  Kat’s two older kids sat in a circle with the younger children, participating in one of the games, while Kat helped a soldier set up cots for the kids, little Noelle playing with toys Kat had brought inside from her vehicle.

  Naomi walked over to Kat, spoke quietly. “I’m going to go splash water on my face.”

  Kat fluffed a pillow. “You’ve done a great job, Naomi. Go take a break.”

  Naomi stepped inside the bathroom, leaned back against the door, and exhaled, rubbing a hand over her belly, the baby kicking restlessly.

  Had she been crazy to think she could run a camp like this?

  Someone with more experience and training might have thought to keep a vehicle on hand that was capable of transporting everyone. Maybe they would have thought to have a satellite phone rather than relying on a landline. Maybe they would have noticed one of the children running away and hiding.

  If Chaska and Grandpa Belcourt and the others had died…

  She would have had to go on without Chaska for the sake of the baby, but she would never have been able to forgive herself for their deaths.

  That’s not how it turned out. Don’t dwell on things that didn’t happen.

  Naomi splashed cold water on her face, dried off with paper towels, and stepped back out into the main room.

  One of the groups was playing the Gratitude Game.

  “What are you grateful for, Mona?”

  Mona smiled shyly. “Pusketti.”

  “You like spaghetti, don’t you?”

  “How about you, Alissa?”

  “My daddy is going to come home.”

  And then Chaska was there, standing just inside the doorway, his dark hair tousled, soot on his face. Dean stood beside him. Behind them came Grandpa Belcourt with his drum, Gabe Rossiter, and the three camp counselors.

  All conversation in the room came to a stop, kids craning their necks to see.