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Something was coming for them.
Booth saw it. A great big fiery log the size of a rocket came bouncing down the hill, spraying embers and igniting smaller fires everywhere.
“Nova…” Booth swallowed. “I think we’ve got a big problem.”
Nova watched as the log hurtled down the north side of the hill, hit a boulder, bounced over the waste rock dump, and landed with an earth-pounding boom in a copse of dead spruce.
A fire swooshed to life.
“Yep. Big problem,” Nova said.
“Did you see that thing? Ooo-whee,” Rico hooted. “Like a log rolled right out of a giant’s fireplace!”
“Sure did,” Eric said. “What was that thing?”
“A pylon from that old ore bin up the hill.” Booth pointed.
The burning log had lit a spot fire that had already spread to the size of a volleyball court. If she didn’t get her crew to contain it, Booth’s “big trouble” would be the understatement of the year.
“Okay, Booth, Rico. Get on that before it gets out of hand. We need that fire banked.” Nova palmed her radio and called headquarters. The reply never came.
She hadn’t picked Booth, Eric, and Rico because they’d been goofing off. Quite the opposite. They were the fastest guys on the crew. Rico might be a rookie, but his years as a hotshot gave him more experience in wildland firefighting than Booth. It was why she’d put them together.
Eric was a bit more of a wildcard. Seasoned enough to do the work in half the time, but more likely to take risks. Risks, she had to admit, that he could handle most of the time.
She holstered her walkie and picked up her gear. “Let’s get to work. I should have radio signal up on the ridge. I’ll call in the water drop.”
Rico grabbed his saw pack and headed out, but Booth lingered. He touched her elbow. “Sure you’re good?”
“I can handle this.” She was aiming for confidence, but the worry lines etched into his forehead gave her pause. After he’d shared about being in WITSEC, she figured she owed him the truth. “It’ll be tough, but if the wind eases back, and if you and Rico can contain the new fire, and if we can keep flames from running up the slope?—”
“That’s a lot of ifs.”
“It’s what we do.” She didn’t need to spell it out for him. Things had the potential to go big, especially if the fire on the north and south joined up.
He stepped closer. Brushed his index finger along her hand. “Be thinking about your escape route, okay?”
She pressed her lips into a tight smile and bobbed her head in short, rapid nods. “Always.” What was she even agreeing to? Oh, yes. Escape plan. “There’s a small cave to the west. Big enough for two of you.”
“And you?”
“I’ll squeeze in. If not, there’s always my fire shelter.” She patted her thigh pocket, where she kept the thin foil-like shelter she could deploy to protect herself in a fire. It was still risky, even as a last resort. They could only keep out so much heat, and even the smallest gap could mean death.
“Just remember, ‘The sky, not the grave, is our goal.’”
Nova smiled at the line taken from an old hymn sung by their crew around the campfire.
She was about to respond when Rico yelled, “Booth! Stop playin’ kissy-face and let’s go!” Rico laughed and revved the chain saw.
“We’ll talk after,” she said. “Stay safe.” She turned and headed off before she could change her mind and say or do something stupid.
Nova hoofed it across the valley and joined Eric. The treetops danced in the wind, waving fiery branches. Historical preservation was important, but not more than the lives of her crew. The fire was coming fast, and Nova wasn’t sure they could stop it.
The radio crackled. “Burns, what’s going on out there?”
She grabbed her unit. “Tuck, is that you?”
“Yep, I’m manning the command station. And before you ask, I’ve got my leg elevated and I’m fine.”
