Jesus, she prayed, please just keep it running!
Her lane came to a complete stop, while the left lane slowed but continued moving. She picked up her radio.
“Zach?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s going on up there?”
“A car up there just stopped right in the lane.” He paused. “Now the driver is getting out.”
“What’s he doing?”
“It’s a woman. I gotta go.”
“Zach, no!”
But he was already gone. His emergency flashers came on. Then he climbed out of the RV. Leaving their son alone there, with gang bangers right behind him!
Katie turned on her emergency flashers, too, and turned off the truck. Behind her, someone honked.
She jumped out of the pickup, slammed the door shut, and sprinted toward the motorhome. Another horn sounded. She didn’t look back.
Her sneakers flew over the pavement as she ran past the drug gang’s sedan. Men’s voices hooted and hollered at her. She scrambled into the motorhome’s driver seat.
Duke met her with his face in hers, but she pushed him away and looked into the dark interior of the RV. Timothy appeared to be fine. In fact, he was still sleeping, judging by the angle of his head against his booster seat.
Her hammering heart began to slow. Turning around, she looked through the windshield. Headlights illuminated her husband as he spoke to a middle-aged woman in a blue sun dress four cars ahead. He motioned to her door, and the woman went and got back into her car.
Zach walked to the rear of the car and put his hands on the trunk.
Oh. She must have run out of gas.
Katie jumped out to help. More horns blared. Gusts of wind fought her as she ran to the little white Honda and braced herself for the push. Together, she and Zach were barely able to budge it.
No wonder. They were on a slight uphill incline. Just their luck!
Drivers shouted and more horns sounded.
What, were they all stupid? Couldn’t they see what was happening?
Offer a little help?
Finally, two guys climbed out of the SUV in front of the motorhome. Big, burly guys with short cropped hair and tattooed arms strode up to the Honda and leaned into it. The car began to move, and the woman steered it toward the shoulder of the road. Once in motion, they were able to keep it moving, and soon it was off the highway.
Meanwhile, their lane was stopped behind the motorhome, while the other lane of cars kept going – and now some of them began moving into the empty lane. The burly guys returned to their SUV.
Horns blared like it was their last chance. Katie could barely think over the din. The SUV drove off.
The woman climbed out of her Toyota, clutching her purse. She stared at traffic, then at Zach.
“Need a ride?” he asked, but she looked hesitant.
“You can’t just stay here by the highway,” Katie said. “You can ride with me.”
“Well, I –”
“Look, we gotta go,” Katie insisted. “We’re blocking traffic. Do you need anything else out of your car?”
“My suitcase.”
“Okay. Grab it and bring your keys.”
The woman looked flustered, but went into motion, retrieving a small black suitcase from her trunk. Holding her purse under her arm, she glanced around.
“Which car is yours?”
“The pickup!” Katie yelled over the horns. “C’mon!”
Zach went back to the RV. With the wind whipping her hair, Katie led the woman past the drug dealers’ car to her truck. She hit the button to unlock it, and they both climbed in.
“Thank you,” the woman gasped, when they’d closed the doors. She ran her fingers through her short brown hair.
“No problem. You ran out of gas?”
“I think so.” She turned appreciative hazel eyes toward Katie. “I’m Jennifer.”
“I’m Katie.” Turning the key, she switched off her emergency flashers and put the truck in gear. “My husband Zach was the first one to help you. He’s up in that RV. And we’re about out of gas, too.”
“Oh, my.” Jennifer put on her seat belt. She stared at her car as they slowly crept past it. “I hope it’ll be okay there.”
Katie cringed. Not likely. If it wasn’t stolen or vandalized, it might get burned up. Ugh.
“What kind of insurance do you have on it?”
***
“What’s happening with those airplanes?” The president demanded.
“Air traffic control is lining them up for landing,” the director of Homeland Security answered. “The first ones should be touching down within minutes, if all goes well.”
Alana noted he didn’t say if they don’t run into drones or something to that effect. Smart man. She leaned back and stretched her shoulders. She couldn’t suppress the yawn that followed. Hopefully the president hadn’t noticed her faux pas. She shifted a quick glance toward Basilia. Nope. Unnoticed.
The leader of the free world was focused on her chief of staff, Grace Denver, who’d just rushed into the PEOC with an astonished look on her face.
“What?” The president urged. “What happened now?”
No, Grace’s look wasn’t exactly astonishment. More consternation.
“It’s the governor, Ma’am. Of California!”
“Well? What’d he do?”
“It’s not what he did. It’s what he didn’t do! He missed his flight!”
Disbelief swept the president’s face. “How? He was getting on the chopper last time we spoke. They were taking him straight to the airport!”
Ms. Denver moistened her lips. “He never arrived!”
“I don’t understand. Where’d he go?”
“Officials in California are looking into it. There are some suggestions of a possible crash.”
Basilia rubbed her collar bone. Wordlessly, she shook her head. Her gaze found Alana’s, then wandered aimlessly around the room.
Alana inhaled slowly.
On a normal day, news of this magnitude would seem momentous. Today, it seemed barely above trivial. Still, something about it felt overwhelmingly significant.
Like the straw that broke the camel’s back.
She felt tears bring relief to her dry eyes. Tears!
After all that had happened today, she was going to cry for this one man? She’d only met him once, for crying out loud! At a political fundraiser!
Alana let her gaze shift toward the president. Her eyes were glistening, too. As their eyes locked, a long moment passed in which the tears surfaced. Instantly, they both looked away.
But in her peripheral vision, Alana could see the president wiping her cheeks, too.
Maybe there was something about losing a known individual that carried more emotional weight than losing a thousand – or even a million – unnamed strangers.
Somehow, that seemed wrong.
But suddenly, she felt gutted.
Chapter 21
A hot wind pressed Nadir’s pants against the backs of his legs. He looked over his shoulder. The fire was gaining on them.
Ahead, though, there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Or at least at the end of the street. The electricity hadn’t gone off yet in this neighborhood. As they approached the intersection, his father lifted his head.
“I know this street!” He grabbed Nadir’s arm. “It is not too far now.”
“Good. How soon can we be home?”
“Less than an hour, I think.” His father steered him left at the corner.
They were walking parallel to the front of the fire now, instead of away from it. Which meant that every moment, the fire was growing nearer. Nadir quickened his stride, and his father easily matched it.
In the light, he saw that his lower pant leg was ripped, leaving it hanging across the top of his shoe. Must have happened in the crash. Blood from the glass cuts had dried on his hands. His hips ached from the wrenching delivered by the safety belt, and his shoulde
r and arm hurt from the way he landed against the fence when the helicopter exploded.
Other than that, he was okay. Which was a lot more than he could say for the helicopter crew.
A few cars crept along this street, but nothing like the mass of tangled traffic that pushed west.
He stopped at the edge of the sidewalk, waiting to cross the street, but each vehicle plastered itself to the one in front of it, leaving no room for a pedestrian to cross the intersection. Finally, his father stepped into the street, holding up both hands, and the next vehicle stopped before running him over. Nadir followed, and they made their way through the intersection.
How many streets would they have to cross like that, taking their lives into their hands?
Wind blew heat across Nadir’s skin. How far was the fire? How fast was it moving?
Perhaps it had slowed as it entered town. Sure, it would gobble up the wood-framed homes in residential neighborhoods, but wouldn’t it be slowed when it reached the concrete, glass and metal buildings of the downtown area?
Or perhaps it would be such an inferno by then that it would course through the city, sucking up oxygen and debris alike.
It was a beast, for sure. He could not resent it, though. It was a beast of his own creation.
At the next intersection, his father again parted traffic like Moses parted the Red Sea, stepping into the flow and lifting his hands. And again, drivers stopped their vehicles just long enough for him and Nadir to cross.
As they continued along the next block, the street lights flickered.
And then went out.
They arrived at an intersection illuminated only by headlights. His father stepped forward.
“NO!” Nadir yelled. “They can’t see you!”
***
Creeping down the highway, Katie and Jennifer watched the fires as they drew near. Katie guessed they were about five miles away, and they just seemed to be getting bigger by the minute. A gust of wind shook the pickup.
“What was I thinking?” Jennifer clasped her hands in her lap. “I should have stayed home!”
Maybe she was right. Katie wasn’t sure that trying to run through a fiery inferno was better than staying in Mill Valley and waiting it out. Because what was the likelihood their neighborhood would burn? It was a tossup, whereas this was starting to look like certain death.
“Where do you live?”
“Just east of Sacramento,” Jennifer said. “You?”
“North of the Golden Gate Bridge.”
“Oh.” Jennifer nodded absently. “That’s nice.”
“Where are you headed?” Katie asked. She’d taken a total stranger into her vehicle, but today that seemed like a perfectly normal thing to do. Anyway, Jennifer appeared harmless.
“Uh… I was just headed… away.” She turned to look at Katie. “You know, I didn’t have a good plan. I just grabbed my overnight bag and got in the car. Didn’t even stop for gas! Obviously. So stupid!”
“I don’t think any of us were thinking our best today.” She sighed. “Do you know where you’d like to go?”
“A motel. Preferably a nice one, with a restaurant.” Jennifer turned and looked out her window. “I just can’t believe this, you know?”
As they rounded a bend, brake lights illuminated the road ahead.
Katie frowned. What now? Another car out of gas?
As she came out of the curve, she saw flashing lights. An emergency vehicle. And it was difficult to tell because of the darkness, but in other vehicles’ headlights, it looked like the CHP patrol vehicle that had passed them earlier.
His rig was parked in the left lane, blocking traffic.
Was he out of gas?
Kind of ironic, right? But not too shocking. Maybe someone would help him push it off the road.
Fortunately, this time, Katie and Zach were in the lane that was still moving. They crept forward, while horns began honking and lights began signaling other drivers’ intentions to turn into their lane. Katie didn’t leave any room between her and the car ahead, though. She was already four vehicles behind Zach, and didn’t want to be separated any more than that from her family.
“What’s he doing?” Jennifer craned her neck. “He’s trying to flag people down!”
Katie kept her eyes on the bumper of a Miata four feet ahead of her pickup. “Weird.”
“Yes, he’s coming out in traffic,” Jennifer said. “He’s trying to stop our lane!”
Lead settled into Katie’s stomach. Of course! That’s why he’d driven on past that fender bender. He’d been on his way to close the highway. And it’d taken hours for him to get here, but now here he was. Making sure people didn’t proceed into the fire area.
He probably had much better information than anyone else on this road.
Maybe he knew that the fire was already engulfing the highway ahead, and it was impossible to go that way.
Katie gulped. Now what? She glanced at her passenger.
“Do you pray?”
“What?” Jennifer looked at her like she was nuts. “No.”
Great. She was on her own. Turning her heart to her Father in heaven, she begged for help. For safe travel up this highway and through those mountains, and enough gas to get to the other side.
It all seemed impossible.
But with God, all things are possible.
Waving his arms, the patrolman stepped out in front of a pickup truck with a camper. Traffic ground to a halt.
“I’m going to go see,” Jennifer said, throwing her door open.
“What? No, wait!”
But she bounded out, and trotted past the vehicles ahead, then past the motorhome, her short brown hair blowing sideways and illuminated by scores of headlights. Other people were getting out of their cars, too.
Katie sighed and turned off her engine. If she had a half gallon left, she sure wasn’t going to use it idling here on the road.
Horns blared like there was a contest for the loudest, ugliest, longest-lasting wail.
The gang banger who’d shot at Zach opened his door and got out. He trailed behind Jennifer. Metal glinted below his hand.
“Oh, no.” Katie whispered. “Oh, no!”
What was he planning to do?
And what could Katie do about it?
Her breath stalled as he and Jennifer disappeared beyond the motorhome. Hopefully Zach had locked the RV doors!
A few more people got out of their cars. They were all moving toward the CHP officer. He struck a flare, waved it in the air, and dropped it in the middle of Katie’s lane, right in front of the pickup with the camper. Definitely closing the highway.
Jennifer joined the group gathering in front of him. He held up his hands, waving them back.
The gang banger drifted up behind Jennifer.
Katie’s heart hammered in time with her thoughts. Get out of there, Jennifer! Get out of there!
Another gust rocked the pickup as horns belted discordant notes.
And then, another sound pierced the cacophony.
A gunshot.
***
“Turn that up, please,” the president said. Because it was closest to her, Alana reached for the television remote and nudged up the volume.
Non-stop news was showing walls of flames in California.
The footage, obviously shot from a helicopter, was way beyond what the Hollywood special effects people could create for their cataclysmic movies. It was fully terrifying.
A male reporter provided the voice-over narration.
“And what began as hundreds of brush and grass fires has now become a conflagration never before seen on earth. As the winds whipped up the fires, they grew and spread. Then they joined together, connecting the dots, so to speak, to create this massive wall of fire that hems in California’s population.”
The video cut to another fire.
“As you can see here, the first line of fires began near the Pacific Coast this morning. Resources poured into the western e
dge of the state to fight these fires before the second ones were ignited. Later, those firefighting teams were unable to relocate to the new fires, allowing them to grow like we’ve seen here.”
The next images showed traffic lights on a freeway. But there was no motion, it was as still as a photo.
“Unfortunately, nearly all the freeways and major highways in California have come to a standstill.” He paused as the video showed another highway, with traffic moving perhaps five miles per hour.
“We have updated information on the interstates. There are a couple that are moving, albeit very slowly. They include I-40 and I-15 east of Barstow only, and I-80 northwest of Sacramento only. Now keep in mind, it’s impossible for residents in the Los Angeles area to reach Barstow, because the fires have totally cut off the highway east of L.A. You’d have to drive through that wall of flames.”
The video cut back to the 100-foot-tall fire, complete with snapping, crackling, roaring audio.
“It’s unclear at this time whether any travel is possible through the fires in the vicinity of I-80 northwest of the capital. The highway patrol reports they’ve dispatched law enforcement officers to close the interstate there because it’s too dangerous to attempt passage.”
The next images showed the fires from high altitude, maybe satellite.
Alana’s hand flew to her throat. It was unreal!
The entire southern half of the state was visible onscreen, and the fires were huge. Most of the populated areas, normally illuminated brightly, had gone dark. Which only served to magnify the intensity of the surrounding fires.
Flames bordered the state in two jagged generally north/south lines, hemming it in from the east and the west.
Other than a trickle that might escape up I-80, and the ones crushing the border checkpoints into Mexico, it seemed that no one could survive.
And there was nothing anybody could do about it.
Alana felt lightheaded. She sucked air, but still felt darkness pressing in and narrowing her vision.
She forced herself to breathe and blink and take a sip of water.
As the reporter went on about the fires and the traffic and the burning communities, no one in the room spoke.
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