by Vivien Vale
It has to be controlled, or it could easily take out a few hundred acres before hitting water.
With a thirty-pound fire extinguisher under each arm, I’m thankful that I have my helmet with the large full spectrum flashlight.
Even though I know these woods like the back of my hand, carrying these large extinguishers in the dark is far from ideal.
There’s been so many times that I’ve played with the idea of burning all of it.
The helmet, clothing and all—it’s paraphernalia that just taunts me and reminds me of everything I’ve lost.
Burning it in a respectful pyre to my friends sounds like a great idea.
But how could that possibly help?
Life goes on, and I know they would expect me not to be a self-absorbed asshole and deal with it. We all knew every time we went out on a call that the potential of not coming back was there.
But I can’t help but think—just like families with suicidal members—it’s the survivors who pay. And pay and pay.
Tripping over a root, one fire extinguisher almost jerks totally out of my arms.
“Fuck!” Concentrate, you stupid fucker.
My arms burn, and my hands turn numb, right along with my legs. I’m exhausted.
I can smell the fire long before I’m close.
I estimate it to be a little less than a mile away. It’s been a slow trip in the dark.
As I drop the extinguishers, I glance at my watch. Just over twenty minutes.
Not too bad.
I know exactly where it is.
Like I said, I know most of these woods like the back of my hand. Especially within a mile perimeter of my place.
As I come into the clearing where the fire is, I’m relieved to see that it hasn’t begun to spread much farther.
It’s about thirty feet in diameter, but this meadow is a good hundred by fifty.
I need to keep it right here and away from the big trees.
It really couldn’t have started in a better place to be able to contain it.
Pulling the pin and engaging the fire extinguisher, my training kicks in.
Taking into account the wind and size, I start creating a fire line with the suppressant foam. When I encounter areas that have already burned, I incorporate them into the fire line to save on my extinguisher. It takes time, but it’s definitely working—the fire is burning itself out.
It’s a good thing there wasn’t more wind, or it would have been far gone by the time I reached it. Anything I would have done would have been useless.
It probably only takes about an hour to put out, but I still keep circling, stamping out hotspots.
My heavy firefighter boots are perfect for this, although they made the trek through the woods torture—and I’m not looking forward to the walk back.
It’s been a long time since I’ve worn them.
All I want is to go back.
I wonder how Margot and Amelia are doing.
I’m sure Margot has been keeping an eye on the fire out the window. I don’t want her to worry about me any longer than she has to.
I feel kinda bad about waking Amelia up, but I haven’t ever had to worry about a little kid before. I don’t even have younger brothers and sisters.
I know a lot of people who seem to have built-in quiet mannerisms, and that’s always been totally missing for me.
Sweating and filthy, I’m still cursing as I locate the area it obviously started.
It’s clear that the fire started on the north edge of the burn. It also looks like it’s in a bit of a depression.
My training and senses have fully kicked in at this point.
Slowing down in the area, I shine my light and picked my way through in a grid pattern.
I’m almost afraid to look, but it would be pointless to be out here for so long and not bother.
There it is!
Wait…I can’t fucking believe it.
No fucking way.
This means something entirely different is going on.
There is a very clear pattern for a pyrotechnic fuse.
A delay fuse like that, also known as a rocket or hobby fuse, can be purchased easily.
It looks like they planned to give themselves a ten-minute head start to get out of the area.
This is a little bit more elaborate than something kids could’ve pulled off.
So, if it wasn’t a natural fire or kids, what does that leave me with?
Of course, it leaves me with Amelia’s “bad man in the woods” as the culprit. The bad man who is watching our cabin.
Goddammit.
This was all a distraction.
I have to get back!
I’ve been gone way too long already.
Running back there, I have fifteen million terrible things running through my head with a whole lot of horrible suspicions mixed in.
My feet scream in my boots. They don’t give at all. It’s your feet that give.
They will be a mess by the time I get back. But all I can think about is Margot and Amelia. It spurs me into a faster run.
This person obviously has some kind of weird fascination with fire.
Could he possibly be the same person who set the fire in Margot’s dorm all those years ago? If so, could it potentially be a sick college stalker? Or is there something more menacing going on?
There are so many other options that I don’t even want to consider at this moment.
I know it’s immature.
Having tunnel vision is limiting and stupid.
How ironic that the series of events—starting with the fire in Margot’s dorm—have influenced my life choices to such a great degree.
If it wasn’t for Margot’s fire when I was in university with her, I may have never seriously pursued firefighting as a career.
The sense of purpose, and the fact that you feel like you’re truly making a difference in life, are what drew me away from Wall Street and into firefighting full-time.
Who really cares what the biggest businesses in the world are making and losing on a daily basis? I know I don’t.
What’s more important than lives you can potentially save? To feel like you are truly influencing and saving someone is hard to describe. It’s uplifting and inspiring.
My lungs burn, and I cough. Pausing, I spit up the black phlegm from my lungs. Just another lovely side effect of putting out a fire without a respirator. But I need to hurry.
I refuse to totally dwell on what could be going on back at the cabin right now.
Everything must be alright. I keep telling my petrified subconscious that there is no other option.
As I take off running again, pushing my body to its limits, I chant this mantra: “I’ll be there in time.”
There is no other choice.
Margot
Amelia’s crying didn’t slow down as I stomp to the bedroom. Not super shocking, considering how much she’s worked herself up. I thought if she heard me coming, she’d give it a rest.
Entering the bedroom, my eyes are immediately drawn to the window where the fire is still raging. It looks pretty small, but I suspect that’s because it’s quite far away. It’s going to take a while, and I need a distraction.
Brushing her hair out of her face, I lean in.
“Amelia.”
The stern disgust I leak into my voice when I call her name has her settling a bit.
She knows she’s being dramatic, too.
“Look at Crockett. He thinks you’re being ridiculous.”
He’s sitting at the end of the bed, watching us both as I sit down next to him.
With his head cocked, gaze bouncing between us, it almost looks like he’s questioning Amelia’s dramatics.
She’s definitely a little too old for this, and even though I know she’s exhausted, I refuse to let her get away with it.
Reaching out, I scratch Crockett behind his ears like I’ve seen Boone do.
As I suspected, when I look back at Amelia
, her swollen eyes are already open and she’s perched on one elbow. Reaching forward, she wills Crockett to come to her. Now she’s acting like a baby.
“He was sleeping so nicely against you until you started crying. I was checking on you when we saw the fire out the window.”
As soon as I pull my hand from Crockett, he eagerly slips into Amelia’s reach.
“I’m scared.” Amelia’s scratchy voice forces me to think of some new distractions.
“Well, you don’t need to be scared. Boone’s gone out to take care of that. Would you like some water?”
Throwing herself back against the pillows, she nods her head while simultaneously pulling Crockett closer to her.
He’s so patient with her, it’s amazing.
More patient than me, that’s for sure.
I guess it’s the trade-off for all the attention he gets, but she’s practically smothering him now.
“Okay I’ll be right back.”
I head into the bathroom, and start soaking the washcloth in warm water. After that, I fill the cup we normally use for brushing with cool water.
When I get back to the bedroom, Amelia has propped herself up on the pillows and is watching the fire out the window.
“Why didn’t Boone just call the firefighters?” she asks.
I don’t answer her at first. I hand her the drink, and she guzzles it down. Then, I take the glass from her and place it on the nightstand.
I move the washcloth over her forehead and work my way down. Wiping the tears and snot from her face, I fold and refold the cloth as I go.
“Because of the landslide, remember?” I finally say. “Some of the roads are still blocked. And anyway, Boone was a firefighter. He’ll go take care of it.”
Amelia wiggles as I finish her face, leaning back against the headboard and trying to avoid me with a grimace.
“I remember. I just didn’t think he did that anymore.” Amelia’s innocent words echo my own feelings.
Settling into the bed next to her, I lean back on the headboard so we’re side by side.
“I know, honey. I don’t think he’ll do it anymore. This is just one of those cases where it’s necessary. When you’re good at something and you know how to do it, sometimes you just have to step up and take care of things.”
I can tell she’s considering my words.
Amelia’s tears are totally forgotten at this point as we both stare out the window and watch the blaze.
It’s mesmerizing. Just like watching flames flicker in a fireplace.
Nothing appears to have changed with it at this point. It still glows brightly.
“It doesn’t look like it’s gotten any bigger. Hopefully he’ll be able to take care of it quickly and come back.”
“I’m hungry.” Amelia’s ploy to stay up later is not lost on me.
But whatever. I could use the distraction and a snack myself.
“Okay.” I make it sound like I’m a little put out, but I grab her leg and shake it.
“I saw a snack in the pantry that I know you will like. But, if I go get it, you promise to be calm and go to sleep after?”
“I promise, Mommy.”
But Amelia’s innocent eyes don’t fool me. Her playful smirk gives her away.
Crockett is already half asleep on her chest, and I know a little snack will guarantee she’ll sleep through the night.
“Okay. I’ll be right back.” I quickly slip out of the room, and leave the door open just a crack behind me.
Leaving all the lights off, I slip into the kitchen, trying not to freak myself out.
It’s dark, and I’m in a cabin in the woods by myself! And Boone is off somewhere for who knows how long. I don’t want to overthink it and freak myself out, but I make a point of staying away from the windows as I go into the pantry.
I grab the goldfish box, thankful that I’d seen it there previously.
I go into the kitchen where the only light comes from the refrigerator when I open it and pull out the juice. By the time I grab a couple of cups, my hands are full.
Tiptoeing back, I manage to keep my mind busy with the task at hand.
I have to be the brave one for Amelia. It would be stupid to freak myself out about being in a dark house.
Swinging open the bedroom door, I note Amelia’s drooping eyelids.
Thank goodness!
“Look what I found!”
Amelia’s big smile lets me know I picked the right snacks.
“We can’t have too many so let’s set a number. You don’t want to eat the whole box. Boone might get mad at us!”
“Can I have twenty?” Amelia puts her hands together under her chin in a pleading gesture.
“I think twenty sounds reasonable. Just count them each time you eat one.” I hand her the box and then set the cups on the nightstand.
I fill the cups with juice while Amelia opens the box and unrolls the cellophane.
Crockett is immediately up and interested.
“Can Crockett have these?”
That’s a very good question. I assume so. Don’t raccoons eat people’s trash all the time?
“Why don’t you give him one for every five you have? How many do you think that will be?”
Amelia’s eyes go wide, and they roll up to the ceiling as she contemplates my question.
At the same time, she pops a goldfish in her mouth and then holds one out for Crockett. “Four?”
“Very good. You figured that out quick!”
She beams like a flashlight at my praise.
“You’ll have to eat your five fairly quick so you don’t end up giving him more than four. Okay?”
“Okay, Mommy. Two and three.”
She pops a few more in her mouth as I watch her while taking a sip of my own juice.
I’m so exhausted, and I just can’t help thinking about how tired Boone must be, too. He hasn’t been sleeping properly through the night. Between staying up to watch for intruders and then sharing his bed with us, I bet he’s ready to crash.
“Four, five, six.” Amelia gives Crockett another goldfish while tossing three in her own mouth and chewing enthusiastically.
“Maybe tomorrow, after Boone gets to sleep in, we could get him to take us over to where the fire burned. We can see what it looks like after a forest fire.”
“Seven, eight, nine.”
I have no idea if Boone will be okay with that the day after. But maybe in a couple of days.
“That would be neat. Ten, eleven, twelve.” Popping three more in her mouth, she passes another to Crockett.
Sipping my juice, I wonder if it’s just my imagination that it looks like the fire is getting a little smaller.
Could he be there already?
“Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. Last one, Crockett.” Amelia chomps her snack as enthusiastically as Crockett.
“Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen.”
There’s not a hint of tears in Amelia’s voice, and I know the distraction has done its job.
“Nineteen and twenty. Can I give him one more, Mom?”
“Sure.” I’m not in the mood to argue; I’m feeling really relaxed.
As she finishes her juice, I realize I need to get her into the bathroom once more. I needed to go myself.
“Guess what time it is?”
Amelia looks puzzled for a second before recognition dawns, and she groans.
“Come on. It won’t be that bad,” I say, trying to convince us both as we head to the bathroom.
I let her prepare both our toothbrushes. Making quick work of brushing, we head back to bed, giggling as we pounce on the mattress. We wiggle under the covers, Crocket watching our antics with what might have been disgust.
The floors are chilly, so I stick my feet on her legs. She giggles and kicks to get away.
“Night, night, honey. Try to get some sleep, and I’ll be right here.”
I lean over to kiss her, then prop my pillow up on the headboard a bit so I can see outsi
de.
The fire is definitely dying down. I’m relieved; I can feel the tension leaving my body. That means he shouldn’t be out much longer.
Lying in bed like this, with his comforting scent on the sheets, makes me wish he was here.
It’s hard not to worry about him, although I know he would think it’s silly.
Amelia’s asleep within minutes, and her soft baby snore fills the air.
Its familiar droning lulls me to sleep.
As the fire I watch in the distance shrinks and begins to flicker out, so does the amount of time that my eyes remain open.
Boone
I run as fast as I can towards the cabin. Chest heaving, heart racing, and stomach clenching as I try not to panic and just get to Margot and Amelia to protect them from whoever is out here intentionally setting fires to hurt my family.
I go around back and silently enter. The last thing I need to do is scare the perp off to where he gets away before I can beat the living shit out of him and turn him over to the police.
Creeping slowly into the cabin, I come upon a man standing in the living room. His back is to me so I can’t get a good look at his face. I can, however, see what the idiot is trying and failing to do.
He’s bent down over a small pile of cloth he has propped against one of the cabin’s walls. In his hand is a mini blow torch, like the kind chefs use. He keeps lighting one piece of cloth on fire to spark a fire along the walls and burn the cabin down.
Fucking dumbass.
I’m a damn firefighter. Did this idiot really think I would have a cabin in the mountains, essentially surrounded by kindle and fire-starter material, and not make it fire-proof?
I made the cabin fireproof to be smart, safe, and to protect me and Crockett. Now I’m relieved I took the precaution because it’s saved not just Crockett, but Margot and Amelia.
The arsonist becomes more and more frustrated with each failed attempt.
He turns briefly so I finally get a good look at his face.
My blood runs cold.
I recognize the man. I know his face.
He’s been present at every Masters family function since I was a kid.
My father’s bodyguard.
Shit.
With this realization, everything that has been bugging me for the past couple of days come into focus. Everything becomes clear.
