“I can’t. . .” Betty fought for air. “I can’t breathe.” The last word came out as a gasp. Then a wave of coughing took over the woman’s body. Austin stepped back. She hated to do this because this sometimes had unintended consequences for the homeless. She flipped out her phone. She dialed 911.
The phone gave her a busy signal.
“Seriously?”
911 busy?
Betty screamed. Austin realized she had pushed her carts and destroyed her cover. Betty was blocking the muted grey light with her hands over her face. She screamed, maybe words but Austin couldn’t make them out. Austin pushed the carts together. It was gradual but the screaming faded a bit.
“I’m gonna get you help, Betty.”
Austin dialed 911 twice before unlocking her bike and taking off. Still busy. She looked at spots that had been tent homes for as long as she could remember. Empty spots of long beaten down grass. Where did everybody go?
***
Scott held on to the side of the San Diego City fire truck. His mask in place. He watched the shoulder of the freeway. It would be a few more hours before they had their own squad buggies, so for now they were hitching rides. They had to weave in parts of the four lane freeway to avoid the cars that were left behind. More than one moron thought they could drive through the fire. Along the road he could see crews spraying chemicals to suppress the fire that was spreading in the ditch along the massive roadway.
As the squad leader of Bravo Company he had the radio and was monitoring all communications Annie and Tuck were having with Alpha and Charlie Company. Tucker had rolled out with Charlie Company and communication was spotty.
Scott tapped his radio. “We are moving into the fire zone.”
If the fire kept going it would follow the path into the valley, which was the geographic center of the county’s population. Across the freeway the traffic trying to go west was like a parking lot. Horns were constant but there was not enough road to move everyone. Fire looked so bad to the east that no one went that way. They had no idea how dangerous it was being this close to the fire. Scott was surprised the panic was not already setting in.
Riccardi tapped Scott’s helmet with his Pulaski, a tool that was an axe and a hoe combined into one. He looked around Scott to get a look as they pulled onto an exit ramp. They turned off the freeway. The air was so thick with dust they couldn’t see until the truck turned sideways.
A wall of flame that was four times taller than a person blocked the road. It came towards them like a wave, as it passed parked cars you could her parts of the car snapping and popping under the pressure of the heat. It did not follow the road and spit burning embers and pieces of trees it had eaten in the air. The wind gust turned most embers into harmless ash, but enough glowed red with heat to spread further and further to the southwest.
Scott looked over his shoulder and saw the neighborhood they were sent to protect. When enough embers floated in the air to look like fire flies there was only so much you could do. The houses were not mansions, but big enough for families and many of them looked as if they had been in La Mesa since LBJ was president.
Riccardi was first off the truck. He moved quickly using his Pulaski to tear way brush from the shoulder of the road. Scott shook his head watching the city fire department struggling to hook up to the local hydrant. One of the boys carried the master key and they spun the hydrant open like a prescription bottle. The fire would sweep through before they saw a drop.
Scott could feel the heat of the fire creeping toward them. His oxygen tank and back were warming. He pulled the cord on his chainsaw and ran away from the fire. He cut through the brush and dropped two trees near the house. Henderson and Clegg moved quickly behind tearing the potential fuel away from the structures.
His radio buzzed to life as he heard Annie in his ear. She watched from the camera mounted on Riccardi’s helmet.
“Scott? Copy?”
Scott happened to be moving in front from Riccardi and waved at the camera.
“Copy.”
“I need you to do house checks.”
“What the fuck are you doing?” Scott said turning to get a look at the flames. They were a wilderness crew used to working back country—going into houses was a job for the guys in the red trucks. “Annie, these people are gone.” Even over the roar of the flames he could hear the four engine air tanker. They were about to drop on this part of the fire. They needed cover quickly. Scott adjusted his mask and ran towards the houses. He knocked on the door at the first house. No response after fifteen seconds, that he counted out loud, he tried the door handle. Locked. He slammed his hatchet down breaking off the door knob.
Scott rushed into the house, his crew behind him. Henderson went to the window to watch. Scott could tell right away that the house was evacuated. Spots on the wall were missing photos. Stuff was knocked over. He paused at the door and watched the chemicals rain on the advancing fire. The house shook as the large tanker designed to refuel planes in-flight came lower than it was ever meant to.
“Here comes the rain,” said Riccardi
The chemicals landed with a smacking sound.
“Keep moving, Scott!”
Scott felt like shutting down the camera and turning the radio off. He ran to the next house, but kept his eyes on the fire. The red dust filled his vision. For a moment it looked like it swallowed the fire. He knew better. When the dust faded the fire would be smaller, parts of it would have died but it would be moving closer. He just kept moving. They needed to clear the fuel, the only way to stop it.
He ran out into the toxic air and saw the flames coming downhill from a ridge towards the houses. He looked behind to map his escape route to the safety zone. It was a part of the 10 and 18 rules, always know your escape route. He double checked his emergency shelter tied under his oxygen tank. Little spot fires were popping up around his feet.
Riccardi ran along spraying the ground with a bladder bag and stomping out the small fires. The two hacked and picked with their Pulaski trying desperately to clear the fuel for the fire. Out of the corner of his eyes he noticed Clegg dragging the cut brush back. It could have been seconds but a quick look at his watch showed Scott forty minutes had passed. The fire was almost to the base of the ridge. He didn’t look up to see it, he could feel the heat.
He heard the rumble, thinking it was the fire, maybe the ridge giving way. Scott stopped and looked up. The wind swirled as a large Navy helicopter with two blades appeared. It carried a water bucket weighted down with 1,000 gallons of ocean.
“Fuck me,” Scott whispered before engaging his radio. He intended to ask Annie to call off the bucket drop, but it was too late. The chains holding the buckets tugged.
“Safety zone! Now! Fall back!”
Scott grabbed Riccardi’s arm and pulled him down the hill. Behind him he heard the sound of the bucket drop. The water came splashing down on the fire. The pilots who were in the Navy just thought they were soaking the fire. The ground was already unstable as the soil boiled under the heat.
They turned back to see the ridge crumble. The bushes, trees and rocks fell like an avalanche. The rumble of the hill overtook the sound of the chopper. Scott felt another gear pop and he ran faster than he thought possible. Scott’s lungs burned and his legs felt ready to snap as he ran. He heard screams, turned enough to see a boulder hit Clegg under his knee.
Clegg’s leg snapped as he fell back and landed on the mudslide. It carried him like a surfer on a wave. His screams of pain blended into the rumble of the slide.
Scott passed a house that the mudslide barreled into with a crash. Riccardi stopped with his hands on his knees knowing they were back into a safety zone. Scott fought to catch his breath and removed his mask for his radio.
“We need a medevac, I repeat, we need a medevac!”
***
“OK, Cobras One and Two you are cleared.”
Annie spun the microphone up on her headset and gave the state owned helicop
ter a pat. She dipped her head and ran away from the whirly bird as it lifted in the air. Fuel crew rolled out a cart holding twenty pounds of chemical retardant toward the spot where Cobra Three was inbound. The constant take offs and landings moved the air around, but this time of year California was already hot. The air only miles from the heart of a massive wildfire felt like the surface of Mercury.
Annie grew up the daughter of a wildfire captain and loved the forest so deeply to her core that she never pictured any other path in life. She commanded this crew by the time she was thirty-two, taking the reins from her father who taught her everything. No one wanted to see Jack Halford, the Forest Service legend, retire. They were ready to put up a statue of him in Boise. That said, no questioned that Annie was not a chip off the block.
Annie walked towards the FEMA trailer where her laptop was set up. She listened to her team on the radio but hated being away from the video feeds. She had to get a look at the fuel crews who were slow by her standards.
She was almost to the trailer when the roar of a helicopter approached. She looked at her watch. Cobra Three was not due for five minutes. She stopped on the steps of the trailer and watched a Blackhawk spin around the parking lot, coming in at a speed she would never let Britney fly the Cobra. She switched her radio to the command channel.
“Hey, Control, what is the deal with the fresh bird?”
“General Redcrow. Here to take command.”
Annie felt a wave of relief before she stepped into the command center. She knew it was the alpha male way to resist being usurped in any command. The Forest Service asked her to command the scene until the military liaison showed up. The local fire chief Hawkins was in over his head, and very willing to attend a briefing at the mayor’s office. She welcomed giving up command.
The FEMA trailer was basically a series of card tables and laptops. The command crew all wore headsets. One large screen TV was playing one of the local stations that had a traffic copter watching the fire. There was a room at the back but no one went towards it. Annie went to her laptop and switched to Scott Rivers’ video feed. He held a line with a group of locals as a wave of fire cut fifty yards from the back deck of a house.
The door to the trailer opened. Annie turned around. The military members of the team stood and saluted the general. He had two guards with him. It seemed a bit much. Annie had worked several times a year with National Guard units and commanders. She had great respect for them. She felt more at ease just knowing the general was here. That said, she was confused by the guards.
“Who was in command?”
The eyes in the room all turned toward Annie. She raised her hand. The general pointed at his iPad.
“Been following your progress. Great work.”
It didn’t feel good to her. The winds were over 25 MPH, the fires were inching closer to each other and the evacuations were creating chaos on the roads. Redcrow smiled at her and waved her towards the closed door at the back of trailer. He opened the door for her.
There was a small desk, a computer and the cheesiest eagle painting she had ever seen. On the desk a picture of the general in his dress attire with the president. She fought back laughter at the idea of this mobile command being lifted by helicopter, so this general could have his personal office.
“Have a seat.”
“Sir, I am not sure I can spare the time.”
“I am sure that you can.”
Sounded like an order. Annie sat down.
“Miss Halford, I worked with your father. He was a good man.”
She didn’t remember him, but perhaps it was when she was younger. He noticed she was half listening to her headset. She pulled it down so it was around her neck.
“Thank you, sir. He taught me everything.”
“Miss Halford, I need to take full command of all aspects of this operation. That is no reflection on you or your ability. You OK with that?”
He was expecting a pissing match.
“Very OK with that, sir. If you don’t mind me saying, I’m happy for this to be someone else’s clusterfuck.”
He laughed. “All mine.” He patted his chest. “At this time elements are still need to know, but I want to tell you that this is more than just a typical wildfire.”
She didn’t need to be told that. “This is much closer to a city than normal. We have city, military and forest service units that all need to work together. It’s your command, sir. But we are making split second decisions that can mean the difference in saving lives or losing them. So, I will respect your orders but I am going to act when I need too.”
“Understood.”
The General leaned back in his chair.
“You can go now.”
***
Victoria watched her former station for two hours following the progression of the fire. She had not put down her phone, constantly loading Twitter. She quickly followed the SDFD but the city’s official Twitter was being updated more regularly. Twice she had picked up her keys ready to go get the kids. She saw closures were only in East County, and the mountain communities had closed schools, but so far San Diego Unified remained open.
She sent a Text to Jake.
You coming home or to the station?
She put the phone down and walked to the kitchen. It was hard to think about food, she didn’t feel hungry now but was already thinking about dinner. Life goes on. She went into the freezer and grabbed a package of chicken. She put it in the sink to defrost. As she dropped it she saw something on her finger. She held it up into the light coming through the kitchen window off the gloomy gray sky. It was thicker than blood. It was on her middle finger she touched with her thumb and it was sticky like syrup.
She turned over the chicken package. It looked like blood that had leaked out of the plastic on the bottom and froze.
Her phone vibrated in the living room to signal a text.
She turned on the water to quickly wash her hands. She didn’t want to pick up the phone with this stuff on her finger. She hoped that was Jake telling her that he was coming home. The sink spurt a blast of water and then the stream came out normal. She hit the soap dispenser and rubbed her hands under the water.
As she ran to the phone she smelled it. Her soap was lavender, but she smelled something different, something rotten. She held her hands to her face. The smell was awful and it was her hands. She extended her arms and ran to the bathroom. Using only the tips of her fingers, she turned the knob. The water burst out quickly at first, before slowing to a stream. She smelled the same smell.
Victoria stared at the water. She felt the skin on her hands crawling, but now she was afraid of the water. She stared at it pouring out. She had to stare at it for a moment but steam was rising off the faucet. She had turned on the cold water.
Afraid to touch anything she dropped to the floor, used her foot to pull open the cabinet. A pump bottle of aloe hand sanitizer was right where she left it. She dropped a large amount on her palm and rubbed it together. Her breath eased and she stood up. The smell was gone.
When she got to her phone she hit the home button. The message was from Jake but not what she was hoping for.
Gotta go straight to the station.
***
Robbins pulled the ‘Next Stop’ cable on the city bus. The bus had not moved in several minutes. Cars were backed up and even though the light had turned green no one moved. Horns blared, and anger flared. Even on the bus, Robbins could hear the voices of people screaming. Robbins walked to the front of the bus. The bus driver was a long haired man with fist full of skull rings. He looked at Robbins standing near the door.
“You want out here? We ain’t moving any time soon.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Robbins stepped off the bus. Here, south east of downtown, the air was far worse than his camp. This part of the city was close enough to the fire that the raining ash was thicker. He pulled his paper mask up and covered his face as he walked. Robbins held out a hand and l
ooked at the landing ash as he turned a corner and walked away from the traffic.
The street was empty. Two taco shops, a KFC and Dominoes lined the right side of the street. All the restaurants appeared closed. Robbins stopped in front of the Roberto’s. It was open twenty-four hours a day. He walked up to the restaurant. The lights were out. The always lit neon open sign got rest for the first time in years. Smoke was coming out of the vents. It was more of a sign of life than the other restaurants on the block. He reached up to the front door. It came open. Maybe it wasn’t closed. He turned to look at the others down the street. He saw a hand written closed sign in the Dominoes.
“Closed!”
The voice startled Robbins who turned around to see a very unhealthy looking Latino man. The man was sweating buckets, his eyes were blood shot and his hands shook.
“It’s cool,” Robbins put up his hands.
“No water! Closed!”
Robbins wanted to ask what he meant by no water. The treatment plant was his mission here. But the man disappeared back into the restaurant. Robbins was at the far end of the parking lot when he heard a scream. It sounded more cat than human. It came from the restaurant.
He kept walking and once he was to the end of the street he heard another far off scream. Robbins turned around and looked back down the street. A man ran in the opposite direction. Robbins watched him. He heard the cat scream again. The man turned and leaned down like he was about to pounce. He screamed again.
Keep focused, he reminded himself. Robbins turned and ran the last block to the gate of the reservoir. He stopped at the chain link fence to catch his breath. The crazy man had not followed. This was a regular stop in his research. San Diego Water Board – No Trespassing. The sign was normally enough to stop him. A city employee stood in the tower during business hours. He was an older black man with a cue ball shaved head and blue jumpsuit who had chased Robbins away a dozen times. Always saying, “Move your ass, nigga!”
The gate wasn’t locked. The chain that normally held it closed was in the dirt. The tower appeared empty. Robbins squeezed through the entrance and walked toward the artificial lake that provided water for the city. It was one of nine in the city limits with twice that many spread around the county. The water was still half a football field away from the gate but he could smell something foul.
Ring of Fire Page 6
