Firestorm

by Monette Michaels

  Sunday, July 19th, 0500

  After four hours of sleep, Tara and Price stood in the chow line. Breakfast looked to be oatmeal, scrambled eggs, bacon or ham, fried potatoes, and a variety of muffins, plus orange juice, energy drinks, coffee, and cold sodas. Once they'd gotten their plates they joined the rest of the SSI crew sitting around a firepit. No rain had fallen, but the air was chilly at this altitude and the wind was brisk. The heat of the small fire was welcome.

  "What's the news on the fire, Tara?" Trey asked.

  "It jumped the perimeter on the northeast side, but the Missoula crew is on it." Tara sipped her juice. "The backburn has been delayed since the winds could blow sparks eastward onto the slope where we’re trying to establish a perimeter. So we need to finish up the stretch of slope we worked yesterday."

  "Maybe we should start at the top of the ridge and work down," Trent said.

  Tara looked around the circle. “What’s the rule about fighting fire in the mountains?”

  “Don’t get caught above the fire,” Price said.

  She gave him a smile. "Exactly. Fighting fire on mountain slopes sets up a blowup or a firestorm situation. A classic feedback loop of fire reinforcing itself with its own heat and flame. The fire superheats the fuel above it and dries it out making the fire burn even harder and faster, so fast you can’t outrun it, and then it blows." She looked each man in the eye. "Never be above an approaching fire. Always have a safe exit in mind. And if there is no exit, deploy your fire shelter and pray. That's why I check in with you and point out the best way to evacuate as the fire conditions change."

  The men stared at her for a second, probably wondering why they'd volunteered to be on the SSI fire crew.

  "I've worked fires as a volunteer since I was thirteen, doing mop up, then later trained as a hotshot in the Missoula area because it was the family business when we weren't in the military." She paused. "I've been in a firestorm, and obviously survived. I'll make sure you all get out. That's my job."

  The men nodded, then focused on shoveling in their own fuel. Once everyone was done eating, they picked up their gear, all eighty pounds of it per person, then headed out for what Tara considered her battlefield, her line to hold against the enemy fire. She had a good crew. They were surrounded by other capable firefighters. So why was her gut roiling?

  She took a deep breath, readjusted her pack to a more comfortable position, and blamed her upset stomach on one too many blueberry muffins. Walking by Price's side, she checked in with the on-site Fire Manager and reported that the SSI crew was back on duty.

  Chapter 21

  Four hours later

  Checking her SSI sat phone, she read the current weather reports coming out of the National Weather Service. The relative humidity had decreased drastically as the sun had risen, and the frontal system that had held off overnight was now feeding off the various meteorological elements and firing up, creating conditions that would feed the blaze even more.

  Word had come down an hour ago that the planned backfire had been cancelled due to the increase in wind. Tara'd wondered why the backfire hadn't been set earlier that morning when there'd been little to no wind. But she wasn't in charge. All she could do was take care of her people.

  Looking to the west, the sky looked ugly with dark clouds and dry lightning flashing in the blue-black depths. To the west of their position, reported winds of forty to fifty miles an hour were wreaking havoc on containment efforts.

  That meant a hell of a clusterfuck was heading toward the ravine where her crew and the Smokey Bear crew were finishing up the last leg of the fire line they'd been instructed to cut.

  Between their current position and the oncoming fire there was lots of fuel—extremely dry fuel. All it would take was a spark from the oncoming blaze to be blown ahead, and the world would go up in flame. Her crew and the others would be caught in a blowup with little-to-no time to escape to the safe area.

  Good news was they'd been working their way toward the spike camp and were close. The spike camp was also the firefighters' designated safe area as it was located at the intersection of two river tributaries and was surrounded by rock surfaces with sparse vegetation, both natural fire perimeters.

  Bad news was the crews were currently cutting line on the upslope of the ravine leading back toward the camp. The ground was uneven, making escape tricky. Plus, if the fire jumped to the slope above them, there was the danger of falling rock and trees hitting the firefighters or blocking their escape route.

  With the increasingly shitty conditions, Tara was shocked that the Overhead, the team of managers who had the authority to shift crews to where they were needed or pull them entirely, hadn't issued more frequent updates on the rapidly changing and dangerous conditions.

  Her gut roiling and her hindbrain shouting at her to get her people the fuck out of there, she called the incident commander who had an overview of the current line crews to let him know her concerns.

  "Hey, Sid, it's Tara with the SSI crew. I'm not liking the looks of the sky and from the reports I'm seeing, we could easily be caught in a blowup down here. I'm pulling the SSI crew." The SSI crew was private and all-volunteer; her boss was Ren, not the Forest Service any longer. The call was a matter of courtesy.

  "I'm seeing what you're seeing, Tara. You're not the only one. Bruno, with the Smokey Bears, radioed me about ten minutes ago. I radioed the branch commander and the word is to bug out. Was just about to call you to pull your crew. The perimeter is as good as we're gonna get it. Besides with these winds, not sure any of the lines will hold."

  And that was the unhappy fact of fighting wildland fires—you could cut line, dump fire retardant and water, but Mother Nature had more than a few aces up her sleeve. In this instance, wind, dry lightning, lots of dry fuel, and rugged terrain.

  "Ta-" A crackle of static buzzed in her ears. "-ra." More static. "Bruno…no response…" More static. "…check on him?"

  "Sid? I'm getting you want me to check on Bruno. Roger that. I'll make sure everyone gets out. Nightwalker, out."

  "…safe. Godspeed…out."

  Tara pulled on her pack, then made sure her goggles and mask were in place. The smoke wasn't bad yet, but it would get that way soon. She knew it was her imagination, but she swore she could feel the heat from the oncoming inferno.

  She notified her crew over the SSI-dedicated communications headset to pack up and head to the camp. After she issued the order, she walked up the line and made sure each crew member had heard the order since the signals seemed to go in and out. As she spoke to each man she made sure they had their packs in case they had to deploy their fire shelter.

  As she urged them to hustle, the winds picked up, the gusts strong enough to upset her balance on the uneven ground. She smelled the ozone from the dry lightning sizzling in the dark clouds.

  Shit, all they needed was for lightning to set dry foliage on the upslope aflame.

  Price was the last of the SSI crew she spoke to. "Get back to spike camp. I'll be on your six."

  When she turned to move up the line, Price tugged on her sleeve. "Aren't you coming with me?"

  "Incident commander needs me to make sure the Smokey Bear Safety Officer got the call to bug out. You go, make sure the SSI crew gets to camp. I'll be along. I have to figure Bruno and his crew is already on their way in." The look of concern on his face tugged at her heart. She could take an extra second to reassure him. "Píítaa, I'll be fine. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't make sure Bruno received the message. It's also part of the job. Just like Spec Ops—hotshots don't leave men behind."

  Price grunted, then nodded. Her man understood duty and responsibility.

  She gave him a quick kiss. "Go. Save me a place to sit next to you and get me a cold Pepsi. The ones I carried in my pack were all warm by the time I drank them."

  He nodded, a stubborn look on his face, one she'd come to know well in the time she'd lived with him. They bo
th were strong personalities, and rock often met hard place. "If I don't see you in ten minutes, I'm coming to look for you." He held up his sat phone and showed her tracker blinking on the site map.

  "Good enough. Now move it, píítaa." She waved and then turned to move up the line toward the Smokey Bears' location which shouldn't be too far. Bruno's crew had already been close to meeting up with SSI's fire line. Her goal was to be heading to camp with the Smokies within ten minutes or less.

  After another glance at the western sky, she frowned and sped up. Make that five minutes or less.

  * * * *

  Ten minutes later, spike camp

  Price sat on the ground with the SSI crew and drank a cold soda and ate the sub sandwich and chocolate chip cookies the heli-tack crew had dropped to the spike camp. The camp was about as fireproof as one could get in an Idaho mountain forest, but getting out of the ravine meant climbing the steep rock walls or hiking out through areas still covered in dry foliage, which wasn't a good idea with the fire racing toward them and the wind blowing embers all around them. Some of the hotshot crews that had been cutting line on the south side of spike camp were already being airlifted out.

  "We're due to be picked up next, Price," Trey said.

  "I'm not going without Tara." He glanced at his phone and frowned. "Her locator is currently stationary. Do you see any of the Smokey Bear crew?"

  The spike camp was full of men eating, packing away their gear, and waiting to be picked up by the helicopters.

  Trey looked around. "I see three of them coming in now. They're heading for the food."

  "Thanks. Watch my gear." Price walked over to the three men and recognized Bruno. "Bruno—"

  "Yeah," replied the tall, leanly muscled red-haired Smokey Bear FSO. "Oh, hey, Price. Tara's a lifesaver. We didn't get the radio announcement. Command buys us cheap radios. I'm filing a complaint."

  "Where's Tara?" Price asked.

  Bruno frowned. "Tara? I swear she was with us." He turned and looked at one of his companions. "Rainier, where's Tara? She was bringing up the rear to make sure you pansy-assed slowpokes made it back in."

  Rainier who looked like he ate small children for breakfast shrugged. "Yeah, she was giving me shit, but in a good way, ya know? She was right behind me when we reached the bank of the river. I didn't pay much attention after that. We were almost here."

  Rainier was right—that should've put her right beyond a jutting of rocks that forced the firefighters to wade through the shallows to make the approach to the camp. But her locator wasn't at that point. It was farther back to the north, along the line they cut.

  "Her tracker shows her as stationary back up the line."

  "Doesn't make sense." Bruno frowned. "Shouldn't be anybody out there. I did a head count when we reached the riverbank, right before we waded into the shallows. All my guys were present and accounted for."

  "I was the last one he tagged." Rainier's brow creased. "Shit. We need to go back and get her. Her brothers would murder us if we left their baby sister in the path of an oncoming fire."

  "I'll get her." Price looked at his sat phone. "Fuck, she's moving again. To the north."

  Tara knew he'd come looking for her. She wouldn't do anything that would endanger him. This meant her going north was not her choice.

  Miller had Tara. Price knew it as well as he knew his own name.

  The fucker had to have come in from the north, along the fire perimeter the Smokey Bears had cut. He knew fires. Probably had observed the crews and knew Tara as SSI's FSO would often be alone, checking conditions. Miller had waited until the threat had increased and grabbed her as the crews retreated. The rocks jutting into the riverbank would've been a great place to stage her kidnapping. Miller would've just killed anyone trying to stop him.

  The Smokey Bears didn't know how lucky they were.

  Price shouted, "Trey!" and turned to find his brother-in-law right behind him; he'd been listening. And behind him was the entire SSI crew. "I'm going after her. Miller might have her."

  "Price," Trey shook his head, "she could've twisted an ankle. That last bit around the rocks and into the river is really treacherous."

  "She would've called for help if she were injured." Price glared at Trey and the others as he moved toward his pack. "Plus, her locator's not showing her at the river and she'd never head back up the line without calling me. Also, she'd never go off on a tangent, knowing the fire was coming. She wouldn't endanger me in that way, because she knew I'd come after her if she wasn't back within ten minutes."

  "Yeah, she wouldn't. You're right. It has to be Miller, or someone working with him. I'm with you, buddy," Trey picked up his gear.

  "No." Price pulled his goggles up and put his helmet on, then checked his mask. Then he pulled out his Glock and some extra mags which he stuffed in his vest pockets. "I can go faster and more quietly solo."

  Shouting over his shoulder, he headed for the river at a jog. "Advise Sanctuary that she's MIA. Tell Tweeter I'll be contacting him. He'll need to keep me up-to-date on the fire situation. Have him start looking for safe areas along the line we cut. Bug out when you can."

  "Fuck that, Price," Trey said. "Me and Vanko will evac with DJ and then we'll remain close by to lift you out. Can't be any worse than flying into ground-to-air fire in Afghanistan."

  Yeah, it could. Price would make sure Tweeter knew DJ wasn't to endanger herself, the guys, or a helicopter to fly into the maw of a fire. He and Tara could go to ground and use the fire shelters if they had to. But first he had to get her out of whatever trouble had pulled her back up the fire perimeter.

  "Hey, Price. You want any help?" Bruno asked, following Price to the river's edge. "She came after us, man."

  "No, but thanks. Get safe. That's why she went to inform you. I'll get her." Because she was his life and he'd trust no one else to find her and make sure she was safe.

  "Good luck, man. Godspeed," Bruno said.

  Price gave him a grim smile and then set off in the direction of Tara's tracker. He could feel the gazes of the hotshots as he walked out of the safe area into the danger zone.

  * * * *

  Minutes earlier, heading for the safe area

  Just as Tara waded into the river after the last of the Smokey Bear crew had rounded the rock barrier, a male voice came over her headset on the general frequency used to communicate with the crews. "Help! I hurt my leg."

  "Who is this? Where are you?" Tara asked.

  "Steve. I'm Steve. With the Smokey Bears." He moaned. "I need help."

  Tara looked ahead of her. Rainier was out of sight. Had they lost a guy along the way? But, if so, she or Bruno should've noticed.

  She'd been teasing Rainier for moving like a slug. He knew her brothers, used to be a Zulie, and had always flirted with her. Other than Rainier and Bruno, she really didn't know the rest of the Smokies.

  "Hold on, Steve. I'm getting you some help," she said. No way would she head back up the line on her own; it was too dangerous.

  The safe area was maybe two football fields past the rock formation that forced them to wade around it. She could get to the camp in a few minutes if she hoofed it and get help. The fire hadn't crested the ridge on the other side of the river yet. They had some time.

  "Give me a location, Steve. How bad are you hurt?" She stepped into the water. She toggled her headset to the incident commander's frequency. "Sid, Tara here. Got an—"

  An arm came around her neck, putting her in a choke hold. Her helmet was pulled off and tossed in the water, then fingers tore off her headset.

  "Miss me. Tara?" Miller's voice sounded in her ears as he put pressure on her carotid.

  Tara gripped his arm and pulled her legs up, throwing him off balance. They fell into the river and broke apart. She scrambled toward the direction of the camp. Tried to yell, but couldn't get enough breath to make it loud enough to do any good.

  "Fucking cunt." His punch conne
cted with the side of her head, staggering her.

  Disoriented and vision blurred, she fell into the water where she hit the side of her head on a rock. She lay there floating, face down, and closed her eyes.

  Fucking get the fuck up, Tara. Price will come for you. Don't give up.

  Even as she struggled to get her feet under her, Miller pulled her up by her braid, then dragged her through the rocky shallows and onto the even rockier bank. She dug her heels in, trying to halt him, to throw him off balance.

  He loosened his hold on her braid and clocked her in the face again. She stumbled away. He then kicked her in the side. The pain was horrendous. Waves of nausea swept over her. She turned her head to the side and threw up, blood and bile and remnants of the granola bar she'd eaten. Her jaw hurt like a mother, but wasn't broken. She wasn't too certain about her ribs; he might have cracked some.

  Dizzy and sick from the vicious hits, her vision went in and out. She forced herself to stay conscious. Forced herself to remain upright. Bad things happened to unconscious women around Miller. The types of things she still had nightmares about.

  No time for flashbacks, Tara. Price is coming for you. You're not flying solo any longer.

  Yes. Price would come for her. Thank the gods, her man was more stubborn than she was. Her mission? Stay alive and slow Miller down.

  "About fucking time you strayed from the pack, bitch. I knew this fire was my best chance to get you." He laughed. The sound chilled her even more than the river water had.

  Before she could try to kick the shit out of him, Miller grabbed her arm, jerked her to him, her back against his front. She headbutted him.

  As he cursed her, he pulled her arm up until she thought he'd dislocate it. He grabbed her other hand as she tried to grab his dick and twist it.

  "You'll get to see my cock soon enough, whore." The words were gritted out against her ear as he bound her wrists together with what felt like zip ties.

  Tara pulled her arms as far apart as she could so she'd have some slack. She kicked back and raked the heel of her military-grade boot down his shin, distracting him so he wouldn't notice the slack in her bindings.