AllFreeNovel
Share Us
While it’s not the most helpful thing for Shane and Clint, I hang out close to the alfalfa field. Just in case something goes wrong, I want to be on hand to help.
Something bothers me about the whole incident with the auger. When I was trying to get it to work more effectively, tugging on the rope that would pull-start the engine, it felt like… there was a catch. Like something had shredded the old white pull-start cable.
I know that I’m being paranoid, but I can’t help it. Those cords do break down with time, but it’s, like, a thirty-year thing. I replaced a pull-start cord in Clint’s dad’s chainsaw once, and he told me that thing had been in there since the sixties. The auger was old, but it wasn’t that old, that’s for sure.
I’m not sure why, but my hunch is that I need to make sure that Nora and her dad don’t need anything. Plus, Shane and Clint don’t need me right now. Clint’s got the horses, and Shane’s checking everything to make sure it goes along with his big evil plan.
At the moment, my only job is Nora.
I’m circling, trotting along with Danger, when I hear a shout. I turn in the direction of the burning, kicking Danger into a brisk trot. We change that to a full-on gallop when I hear Nora scream.
Danger and I barely crest over the small hill when I see the problem. To burn ditches, you have to get a permit from the fire department for a reason. One of those reasons is that one of the tools that some people prefer is essentially a flame thrower. It’s a hose attached to a tank, and the older models sit on your back, literally like a flamethrower in a movie. And it’s currently strapped to Nora’s dad, who is clearly struggling with getting it shut off.
“Fuck,” I mutter. I grab a heavy tarp out of one of my saddlebags, a tool that I keep in there in case I need to lie down and take a nap while out in the field. I sprint forward. Her dad is fine right now; he’s behind the wall of flames. But that shit is getting hot.
“Hold on!” I shout, moving forward. I hold the tarp up, trying to keep a barrier between myself and the heat. I manage to edge behind her dad, who is doing the best job possible of keeping the flame trained on the irrigation ditch.
So far, so good.
“Mr. Foster! I’m going to disconnect the fuel hose.”
“Son, I don’t think that’s?—”
“You can either let it burn out completely or try to get it turned off, so which one is it?”
Clearly, he’s struggling with the decision.
“Took too long!” I yell. I’m going in.
I walk back to Mr. Foster’s back, examining the tool. The one that we have at Wild Spur is a top-of-the-line model. This thing is… old, which doesn’t surprise me. Wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest, actually, if it was some kind of Army leftover that someone bought at a discount.
But there should be a hose… ah. There.
I put my fingers around it and instantly hiss in pain.
“Fuck me,” I mutter. “That’s hot.”
“If you pull the fuel out, it’s going to set the whole thing on fire!” Nora screams.
I turn and toss the tarp at her. “Then throw this on it!”
She catches the tarp, her blue eyes wide. I turn back to the flamethrower. Surely to God there’s not much fuel left in this thing. I suck in a breath, pulling my shirt as far as I can over my fingers. I unscrew the hose.
“Lean back!” I yell to Mr. Foster.
He does. The angle tilts the unit on his back down and away from the active flames in front of him. Minutes later, I hear the hiss of the flames stop. Fuel leaks out onto the ground, but it’s relatively harmless. Behind me, Nora hovers with the tarp.
I look over at Mr. Foster. “Sir, I think you should probably step as close as you can to the ditch before we take this thing off. Maybe even in it.”
Seeming to get my gist, he nods. Slowly, he steps toward the ditch. When he’s right at the edge of it, he crouches, easing himself into the swiftly flowing water.
“Can you unbuckle it now?”
Mr. Forester nods, taking it off. He dunks the whole thing in the ditch, and it sizzles, before he pulls it out and tosses it on the bank.
“Fuckin’ piece of shit,” he grumbles.
My face splits into a smile. “That’s the spirit, sir.”
