Page 78 of Heat Advisory

“What is it?” Jay asked, knowing what those long vibrations meant.

I read the alert to him. “Flash Flood Emergency. Doppler radar indicated that at least two inches of rain has already fallen across the county, with additional heavy rainfall expected. Streams and creeks are quickly filling up. Water-covered roadways have also been reported. Communities downslope of the Coltster Fire burn scar area may need to evacuate, as mudslides and debris flows are possible.”

The storm had already moved through the city and was making its way directly to the burn scar location.

Jay quickly called in to his boss, giving him the bare bones of what had happened and told him to have the police meet us at the station.

His boss didn’t ask questions—not yet, at least—but just agreed and hung up so we could focus on driving.

As we rounded the bend in the road, it gave us a view of down below where we had just been.

Mini rivers. Not streams. Not trickles. Rivers—full of brown, debris-filled water—raced down the hillside through the ash and scorched ground of the fire.

Neither one of us said anything. Jay gripped the wheel harder as he drove us down the rest of the gravel road, eyes locked on the main highway ahead—the one that would take us to safety.

24

“Electricity, water, and metal—science’s version of a love triangle. And also, why you should never shower during a thunderstorm.”

—It’s science

Jay

We made it.

Not gracefully, and not without skidding a few times on the mud-slick gravel as the rain poured down on us. But we made it.

The fire station lights flickered ahead. We pulled into the lot and quickly dashed inside, though we were still soaked by the time we arrived.

The firefighters on shift were out on an emergency call to rescue stranded drivers in the flood. The only people there were Thompson, Stetson, and two police officers, who were anxiously awaiting us when we arrived.

“Are you both okay?” Stetson asked. “Do either of you need medical treatment before we start asking questions?”

I was fine, but I looked at Cora, who shook her head and replied that she was fine too.

We were situated in the common area just off the lobby, a broad space meant for meetings, not relaying details of attempted murder. We pulled chairs together as the adrenaline finally began to recede.

“Start from the beginning because your phone call didn’t give us much to go on,” Thompson said.

Cora started from when she was walking the fire scene, through the conversation with her sisters, and up to when Jade pulled the gun. From there, I was able to chime in and give my account of what happened as well.

The two officers who were there, Briggs and Landry, asked questions at times, but mostly listened as we explained in detail.

“We got a report of two people needing rescue off the national forest side of the mountain, and they match your descriptions,” Officer Landry informed us.

My chest tightened. Darren and Jade hadn’t gotten away.

They’d been airlifted out by helicopter after getting trapped on the mountain—cut off by rising water and unstable terrain.

They’d been trapped—not by us, and not by the law—but by the very thing they thought they could control—the fire and the burn scar. The very landscape they had manipulated had turned hostile, cutting off their escape routes one by one.

The officers exchanged looks, quietly satisfied with what they had gathered, before collecting their things and heading out.

The police left, but Cora and I stayed in the meeting room with Thompson for a bit.

Stetson exchanged a few final words with Thompson before heading out, leaving Cora and me behind in the sudden quiet of the moment.

A few moments later, Stetson had us follow him down the hall to his office, and Cora and I took a seat together on his couch.