Kevin muttered to himself more.
I glanced from one side of the road to the other, and now the trees seemed to burn as much to the north as the south. I started to pull out my phone—felt the urge to call my sister Ellen to speak to her one last time. But what could I say? The horror of this situation would freak her out. My pleasure at hearing her voice one last time had to be weighed against how she’d suffer from sharing this experience. It’d get stuck in her head, and she’d think about it for years to come. No, better for her to hear about us dying after the fact, not in real time, not even just the audio channel. I put my phone back in my pocket.
“Meeker Park can’t be much farther,” Kevin said. “I recognize that house burning on the right.”
It was an old two-story with a sharply peaked roof. Whatever color it used to be, it had turned bright orange and yellow, engulfed in flames. It burned even brighter than the pines. Hopefully, the residents had gotten out in time—unlike us.
Kevin kept following the single-lane road, dodging dead animals and potholes as best he could. Then he hit the brakes. “Oh, damn.”
A large pickup blocked most of the road. It looked like it had run into the ditch on the right side and gotten stuck. A couple of drums had fallen out of the bed onto the road behind the truck.
Jesus Christ! Can we get through?
Kevin coughed. “Son-of-a-bitch! What do you think?”
The visibility was terrible, but there seemed to be enough space on the left—between the truck and the burning lodgepoles—for him to squeeze by. “I’ll move the drums and you punch through.”
“Okay,” Kevin said.
I hopped out with a handkerchief over my nose to block a little of the hot smoke swirling past me. Most of the trees burned freely on the left side as they swayed in gusts of wind. Embers glowed bright in the air and landed on me, burning holes in my shirt. We didn’t have much time.
I pulled the two barrels out of the way. Thank God, they were empty. Then I stood farther down the road, past the truck.
Kevin hit the gas. On his side, I heard a loud pop, and the driver’s side mirror snapped off. The Rubicon slowed down, and its tires spun as the truck’s bumper scraped against the right side of the Jeep. The screeching noise was louder than the roar of the fire.
My mouth went dry. On foot, we wouldn’t make it a hundred yards. One-two-three-four-five.
Our rig shuddered as it hit a large rock in the ditch and stopped moving. The rank smell of burning plastic filled the already poisonous air. Then my door bowed inward, and the Jeep inched forward before stopping again. The tires spun uselessly.
The burning trees above us shook in the wind, and a cascade of burning embers dropped on me.
Oh, no. This really is it.
With a loud crack, one of the trees above me snapped. Something crashed onto my head, stunning me. I collapsed to the dirt. Burning, searing pain. I tried to get out from under the broken part of the tree, but it pinned my left leg to the dirt.
Sheer agony! I could feel my skin melting on that leg and my left arm, couldn’t breathe to scream. My mind dimmed—so much pain—I writhed…
-o-o-o-
WHEN I CAME to my senses again, I was standing a few feet from the still-burning treetop that had fallen on me. Kevin’s Jeep screeched as it passed the truck, and he stopped right in front of me.
“Get in!” he yelled.
I did. Then he drove like a madman through smoke so thick we could barely see ten feet ahead.
How had I gotten away from the burning treetop? And I felt fine, even on top of my head, where one of the branches had whacked me. I couldn’t even feel a sore spot there.
I looked up, and part of the Jeep’s roof had melted away. The windshield was cracked in several places, and my side window had shattered.
Kevin glanced at me. “I can’t believe you survived that fire! I thought for sure you were dead when it landed on you.”
“Not sure what happened. It knocked me loopy, and I guess I crawled out. How did you get past the truck?”
“When the wheels started spinning like mad, I locked the differentials for better traction. Then I gunned the engine. The truck’s bumper bent, and I squeezed past. Then I saw you standing there like a creepy zombie hitchhiker.”
It had been a miracle. But we weren’t in the clear yet. I checked my body, and I couldn’t find any cuts or burns. When I reached down my hand to feel the spot on my leg where my skin had been burning, I found the hole in my burned jeans. But the skin underneath seemed perfectly normal. Not even tender. “I feel okay, don’t ask me how. Just get us the hell out of here!”
Kevin laughed hysterically. “I’m trying.”
I glanced into the back. Lacey’s kennel was covered with ash and embers, but she yipped. She was still alive. We still had a chance to get out before it was too late.
When I looked at the dog more carefully, I realized her fur had burned in one spot. She’d managed to smother the flames somehow. Poor Lacey whimpered.
“Hang on!” I said. “We’re going to make it. I just know it.”
Kevin and Lacey coughed continuously, but I could breathe fine.
Then I took a good look at Kevin. Blood was trickling down his hair from some injury on the top of his head, but he wasn’t gushing blood. “You okay to drive?”
He nodded. “Good enough for now. I’m sure we’ll both whine later.”
The fire towered high above both sides of the road now. I couldn’t see a thing outside except for a few feet around the Rubicon. I prayed to God to deliver us all from this hell. Probably should’ve been doing that all along. My mind was calm, all fear gone.
After we rode for a few more minutes, I spotted a patch of green on my right. Then another. A gust of fresh air caressed my face. The smoke thinned, and more patches of green appeared in front of us. Another dove flew in front of us, like it was leading us to safety.
“We made it,” I said. I didn’t feel the euphoria I’d expected. Once we got past that truck, I lost all my worries.
A few minutes later, the smoke thinned out. “Thank you, God.”
Dad was a fire and brimstone preacher, when he wasn’t running the ranch. Thanks to him, I’d thought more about God than most people. My faith had been tested but endured.
Then I remembered Mom’s struggle. She’d been a huge believer, too, but it hadn’t saved her from cancer. That had tested me much more than this fire.
I glanced over my right shoulder, and the flames raged behind us. Ahead, a dark forest beckoned. Kevin reached out with his right hand, and I gave it a grateful squeeze. The Jeep zoomed down a dark tunnel of unburned trees.
Within a few minutes, we reached the outskirts of Meeker Park. A fire truck sat next to a house with a large yard, and a fireman was spraying water on the yard and the house.
Kevin honked, and the fireman’s eyes opened wide. “Holy shit! I can’t believe you made it out alive. The fire’s too hot in there for anything to survive for long.”
I nodded, but my mind seemed to slow. Now that we’d escaped the immediate danger, I felt numb. We’d left behind so much death and destruction. And despite all that had happened, we’d seemed to survive unscathed. The fireman called an ambulance, and the EMTs checked Kevin and me. Neither of us had injuries. I must’ve imagined the part about the fire burning my leg, not to mention the cut on Kevin’s head.
Once the EMTs finished checking us, the fireman said, “You need to get to Estes Park as soon as possible. This will get a lot worse before it gets better. If the Jeep keeps running, drive north. If it breaks down, stay on the road. Someone will come along and take you the rest of the way.”
Kevin kept driving. My thoughts returned to standing on the road, back when I’d been engulfed in flames. How had I survived? Nothing made sense.
-o-o-o-
THE RUBICON SHOOK violently whenever Kevin drove over 25 miles per hour. He told me it was hard to steer the beast, but it kept moving us closer to
Estes Park.
When we reached town, another fireman stopped us. “Your Jeep is a wreck. I can’t believe you made it this far!”
I patted the dash affectionately, and Kevin just laughed.
Then the fireman said, “I know a motel close by that’s off the beaten track. I’d advise you two to grab rooms there if you can.”
Kevin and I rented the motel’s last two rooms. Once Kevin vanished into his with Lacey, I opened the door to mine and staggered inside.
With eyes barely open, I texted my sister. Terrible news. Raging forest fire at the cabin. Kevin, Lacey, and I are okay, barely made it out. In the AM, can you come to Estes Park to get me? Love, Gabriel.
She was probably sleeping at her ranch near Golden, only about an hour away, but it was the middle of the night. And she was pregnant. She’d come when she could.
Ellen called me a few minutes later, her voice shaky. Once I reassured her that Kevin, Lacey, and I were okay, she calmed down. Then I briefly summarized my horrible night.
“I’m on my way,” she said.
“No,” I replied. “The morning is fine. I’ve got a room here, and you and the baby need to rest.”
After a bit of convincing, she agreed that waiting made the most sense and hung up. I peeled down to my shorts and flopped on the bed.
-o-o-o-
BUT I COULDN’T sleep. Instead, I lay on my back and second-guessed every move Kevin and I had made to get out. I grieved for all those animals we’d passed that probably hadn’t made it out alive. And my mind swirled with terrible images of the Jeep stuck behind that pickup and the falling tree top smothering me. Kevin, his dog, and I should’ve all died. We weren’t even scratched. None of this makes sense.
It’d been a kind of hell I’d never experienced before. How many people and wild animals had burned to death already? What a horrible way to go. My fingers tapped faster than ever. One-two-three-four-five, but it was just a reflex. I felt fine already.
Sometime later, I realized a strange man was standing next to my bed.
I gasped and froze. How did he get in here?
His straight black hair flowed behind his ears and down to his collar. His face was narrow and clean-shaven. He looked somber, and his shoulders drooped like he carried the weight of the world. The guy wore a black suit with a matching waistcoat. The huge bow tie made him look like a character from Dickens’ A Christmas Carol.
“Grieve for the fallen today,” the man said with a highbrow British accent. “Tomorrow your work will begin in earnest. There is so much we need to accomplish.”
I’d seen some crazy-weird stuff lately, but this was over the top. It had to be a dream. I pinched my arm, and it hurt for a second.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“I’ve gone by many names, most now long forgotten. Call me Milton. That will serve, I trust. In any case, I regret coming to you when you’re in such a fraught state, but time is of the essence. You must gather yourself quickly.”
This guy spoke nonsense. “Gather for what?”
“We are shepherds. The savage wolves would spare none but for our swords. At the moment, you are hidden from their rapacious gaze. Use this time to settle your mind. God willing, your bite will sear them to the core.”
He reminded me of a character I’d seen in a Victorian zombie movie Ellen had made me watch. “There are no wolves this far south.”
“I mean all manner of foul fiends. Heed my call. Some of our legion hone their powers by reverent study, but I see you are not of that bent. Put your powers of detection to good use for the benefit of all mankind.”
He spoke gibberish, but at least he hadn’t pulled out a gun or an axe. My day had been more than wild enough. “I really need sleep.”
He chuckled and backed away from the bed into the gloom. “We will refine your latent powers, and you will provide us insight into the world of the damned. Be of good cheer. This may be the turning of the tide.”
Someone had to be playing a sick joke. This was just the kind of thing Kevin would do. “Who are you really? Look, I don’t know how you got in here, but I’m calling the manager. Then I’m going to kick Kevin’s butt.”
Instead of leaving, the stranger said, “We are called by the Almighty. Steel yourself for the never-ending struggle.” Then he stepped back into the darkness and vanished.
My heart racing, I jumped out of bed and checked the door. It was still locked from the inside, and he wasn’t in the bathroom.
No surprise, the fire is giving you nightmares. Tomorrow will be a better day.
Chapter 3
Sunday, June 11th
I MUST’VE SLEPT because when morning came, I wasn’t tired. In fact, I felt more energized than I could remember. Even better, my legs weren’t at all sore from the hike up Longs Peak.
But with the clarity of a new day, I realized something seriously weird was happening to me. It’d started with the dove flying up to Longs Peak. Why couldn’t anyone else see that bird? Was my depression returning? That had been a brutal time. Dad and Ellen had suffered as much as me, but I was the only one of us who’d spent endless sessions with a shrink. Eventually, the dark moods gradually became softer, less angry. Then they disappeared entirely. And they’d left me alone ever since. Until now?
Had the disease returned? I didn’t feel anything like the cold, dark emptiness from those days. My mind had been in a much better place for so many years. Helping Ellen at her ranch had helped me, too. I looked forward to each new day. In fact, I’d been euphoric up on Longs Peak until that crazy bird had shown up.
Face it, Dude, you’re clueless.
While I waited for Ellen, I watched the news coverage of the fire on TV. Despite the devastation, my mind was calmer than I’d expected. Kevin and I had pulled off the close escape of the century. Others, both people and animals, hadn’t been so lucky. That made my throat ache for how they must’ve suffered.
Kevin knocked on my door, and we went to a nearby diner to get breakfast, but I wasn’t hungry. Our close call had seemed to affect my appetite. I drank coffee, but it didn’t seem to energize me like it normally would’ve.
Finally, late in the morning, Ellen arrived. I gathered her into my arms and held her tight. She was the best of what I’d almost lost. My sister was tall and strong and older than me. Her pregnancy was six months along, so she looked like she’d swallowed a watermelon. Brown-haired and blue-eyed, she’d always been my idea of an angel.
And she needed me just as much as I needed her. Her husband had been killed in Afghanistan last February. His ranch now belonged to her, but the place was too much work for a pregnant woman. When I’d lost my job as a detective with Boise P.D., I moved in with her. We helped each other cope with the sorrows the world had thrown at us.
That morning, she trembled in my arms.
I began to say, “God, it happened so fast—”
She put an index finger to my lips. “I was worried on the way here that you’d really gotten hurt but didn’t want to tell me over the phone. I’m incredibly relieved that you three made it out. I’ve been listening to the horrible stories on the radio. Tell me what happened.”
I hugged her to comfort myself as I described our scary journey to safety.
When I finished the long story, she stroked my face. “All that matters is you all got away.”
A moment later, I recognized a silky, southern voice from the TV that belonged to Denver’s favorite local TV personality, Scarlet Davidson. Her smiling face filled the display. “She has to be at the center of everything.”
“Who?” Ellen asked.
I pointed to the tube as the camera’s view pulled back. Scarlet stood with our idiotic Governor Sam Pierce, a former executive from some Denver hedge fund. I’d first heard about him when I was living back in Idaho. During his campaign for governor, one of his young female aides had claimed he’d gotten her drunk at a restaurant late one evening. He’d claimed it was all a big misunderstanding. He swore he’d order
ed margarita mocktails for her, not the real thing. Since then, he seemed to keep getting caught in misunderstandings with pretty women.
“Pierce is a predator, and Scarlet’s got to be a part of every big story,” I said.
Ellen sighed. “Yeah, he’s a pig, but she supports the troops. I met her at a meeting that provided extra help for gold star families. I like her.”
“Her only talent is smiling,” I said. “I don’t understand why she gets so much air time.”
Ellen laughed. “She’s gorgeous and charming. The southern accent doesn’t hurt either. According to Uncle Jim in Grand Junction, she loves rural America. He’s got a picture of the two of them standing outside his gun shop.”
I wasn’t surprised. Uncle Jim was a horny old lecher whose wife had divorced him. I turned my attention back to the TV. Scarlet’s outgoing personality coaxed people into saying the craziest things. I wondered what she’d coax out of Pierce.
She beamed at the governor as he rattled on, “—fire’s now burned eight thousand acres and fifty-seven homes.” His tone was somber. “We’ve already confirmed that the fire was set intentionally. Four of our citizens are dead, including one little girl. Two more badly burned victims are being treated at the Estes Park’s hospital. I’ll visit them shortly.”
“Terrible news, sir.” Scarlet bit her lower lip. “Our hearts go out to all their families.” She paused for a few seconds as though choked up. When she spoke again, her voice cracked. “Poor little girl, Trixie Muldoon. Her parents must be devastated.”
My throat burned and tears welled in my eyes as I imagined their horror in losing a daughter so young. Pictures of pigtailed Trixie flashed on the screen. She rode a swing at a playground, just having fun. She’d never go on a first date or be homecoming queen. “Somebody has to pay for causing all this suffering. People can be so careless with fire.”
Ellen turned off the tube and wrapped one arm around me. I leaned on her shoulder, just wanting the fire to stop growing. As a cop, I’d seen lots of people suffering, but burning was such a horrible way to go.
Forged by Fire (Angels at the Edge Book 1) Page 2
