“What else?” he asked Serafina when he got back into the house. The dog let out a bored groan.
“Well, maybe you’re not sentimental, but I am.”
He started gathering things. The pictures on the walls, his basketball trophy, that stupid certificate from his sixth-grade science fair. His dad’s letters from prison, holiday cards from his mom. Everything went into his camping backpack, along with his water bottle, shampoo, and a towel. Band-Aids, a pack of tissues. His smaller game consoles.
He should probably pack Marco’s stuff too, since Marco seemed to have other priorities right now.
When Elijah went into his uncle’s room, Serafina noticed. She came and sat by the door, watching him suspiciously.
“I’m just getting some of his clothes, okay?” Elijah said to her. “And, like, his contact case and toothbrush. Quit looking at me like I’m robbing the place.”
The dog didn’t seem convinced. She followed him around as he put his uncle’s stuff into a fresh trash bag.
Elijah snapped his fingers. “Cell phone chargers! Almost forgot those.”
Serafina raised and lowered her floppy ears, unimpressed.
He kept thinking of new things to bring. It made him nervous—made him wonder what he was still forgetting. He took out his phone and did an Internet search for fire evacuation things to take.
“Don’t judge me,” he told Serafina. “If you had opposable thumbs, you’d do the same thing.”
***
As Elijah stepped outside, he heard sirens. Somewhere nearby, fire trucks were screeching their way south.
Elijah’s uncle was done messing with the gutters. Now he was just standing in the front yard, holding the hose the way some people held guns. Everything about Marco’s posture said Come and get me.
Elijah didn’t want to think what might happen if the fire took Marco up on that dare.
“Hey, Marco, where’s the deed for the house?”
“What?”
“You know, the deed. The paper that says you own the house, or whatever? Where do you keep it?”
“Why do you care?”
“Just in case we have to leave and . . . you know, the house . . . gets damaged. It would be good to have that paperwork.”
Elijah heard a helicopter overhead. He looked up in time to see the chopper fly by, heading south toward the fire. Those backfires probably didn’t work, Elijah thought. Must be time for the water-spraying helicopters.
Could backfires backfire? Stupid thing to be wondering about right now. He focused on his uncle again.
Marco sighed. “Elijah, this isn’t your problem. I told you, I’ll do whatever I have to do to protect this house. I’ll defend it with my life.”
“Yeah,” muttered Elijah. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
8
Brenna
“Keegan!” Brenna shouted. She and Nicole made their way down the slope as fast as they could without falling themselves. The walls of the ravine were steep, but trees and thick underbrush gave them handholds.
Keegan lay at the bottom of the ravine, curled into a tight ball. His backpack lay a couple feet away. Thick smoke pooled around them, trapped between the ravine walls.
“Keegan! Are you okay?” shrieked Nicole.
Keegan made an angry noise that sort of answered the question.
Brenna and Nicole knelt down on either side of him. His right arm was bent at a painful-looking angle. He clutched at it with his other hand. No sign of his compass. He must’ve dropped it as he fell.
“Talk to us, Keegan,” she said. “Can you sit up?”
He did, slowly, cradling his injured arm against his chest like a broken wing. “I can’t move my arm.”
Brenna sucked in her breath. “Well, that’s . . . not great.”
“Gahhhh, yeah. Yeah, that hurts.” He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes.
“Okay, don’t worry. You’re going to be fine. Just hold still.” She took a closer look at his arm. It was badly bruised and starting to swell. There was a lump below his elbow. Definitely a broken bone.
Brenna pulled out her phone. If they could just manage to call ٩-١-١ . . .
She still didn’t have cell service. “Nicole, are you getting any bars?”
Nicole checked her phone. “No, nothing.” She sounded as if she might cry—not that Brenna would blame her at this point. “What do we do now?”
Brenna looked at Keegan. He was hunched over, shaking with pain. She doubted he’d be able to get very far like this.
“Keegan, I think your arm’s broken,” she said gently. “I think we can reset the bone and make a splint for you. That way you’ll be in less pain, okay?”
Are you sure? No. She wasn’t sure about anything. That was the problem.
She’d never set a broken bone before. She’d only learned how to do it in the first aid class she took ages ago.
And she’d never performed any kind of first aid with a wildfire breathing down her neck.
The air around them was neon orange now. Brenna heard a rumbling in the distance. The sound of flames and wind racing closer. Her bandanna had dried out, and she couldn’t tell if it was blocking much of the smoke. Either way, the smoke was definitely getting thicker, and it was getting harder to breathe.
If Elijah were here . . .
He wouldn’t be sure either. There was no way to be sure. She just had to do her best. That was all anyone could do in a situation like this.
Brenna swallowed the ash in her throat. “Nicole, I need you to find me two really straight, sturdy sticks—about this long.” She used two fingers to mark off the space between Keegan’s wrist and elbow.
Nicole launched into her search as Brenna dug around in Keegan’s overstuffed backpack. “Stay really still, Keegan. You’re doing great.” She pulled out one of his pocket knives and the roll of nylon rope. That material wouldn’t hold up well if the fire caught up to them, but she didn’t have anything else to work with. A moment later, Nicole was back with two sticks.
“These are perfect,” said Brenna. “Awesome work. Now for the fun part.”
Resetting the bone to its proper position quickly earned a spot on Brenna’s list of Things She Never Wanted to Do Again. The look on Keegan’s face—the feeling of the bone popping back into place—made her want to throw up. But then it was done, and the agony in Keegan’s eyes immediately started to fade. It only took another minute to make the splint. Brenna cut pieces of rope and tied the sticks in place, on either side of Keegan’s arm.
“That feels so much better,” Keegan gasped. Then he coughed. With his good hand, he adjusted his bandanna.
No time to celebrate. Brenna shoved the knife and rope back in Keegan’s bag.
“We have to get out of this ravine,” she said. “If the fire catches up to us here, it’ll feed off the wind tunnel in here and trap us.”
For once, Keegan didn’t look doubtful. He didn’t challenge her. He just stood up, picked up his backpack with his good arm, and nodded. “Well, my legs are working fine. Let’s go.” He paused, then added, “Lead the way, Brenna.”
9
Elijah
“We now have reports that secondary fires have started in Topaz State Park,” said the TV anchor. “The park is being evacuated, but it’s possible that some hikers are trapped in remote areas. Rescue helicopters are sweeping the area . . . ”
Elijah stared at the TV. Brenna. Keegan and Nicole. What if they’re stranded? Or hurt? Or . . . He sent another text to his friends and then called Brenna’s mom.
That was a mistake. She was panicked. “I haven’t heard anything from her either! I wanted to drive up to the park and try to find her, but—”
“That’s a terrible idea,” said Elijah.
Brenna’s mother took a sobby breath. “I know, I know. I’m just so afraid something’s happened to them. And now we might have to evacuate . . . ”
“It’s going to be okay,” Elijah told her. “Cell phone service
out at Topaz is always a joke. I’m sure Brenna and the others are fine. Brenna knows that place like the back of her hand. She won’t do anything stupid or dangerous. Can you let me know when you hear from her, though?”
Brenna’s mom promised she would. Elijah hung up and tried to think about something other than his friends’ safety. Something he could control.
Weird—Brenna was the one who liked having things under control. Elijah usually preferred to just go with the flow. To let things happen. To not sweat the small stuff or the big stuff. Because the big stuff was usually too big to handle.
But he had to do something right now.
His phone battery was starting to run low, so he fished his charger out of his backpack and plugged it in. Then he looked at Serafina. “If I were an important document, where would I be?”
The dog’s ears tented upward—the canine version of a shrug.
“Thanks. Super helpful.”
It felt wrong to search his uncle’s room. Whenever Marco searched Elijah’s room, Elijah wanted to punch a wall. Not that there was anything for Marco to find, but everyone deserved some private space.
So much for that. Elijah opened Marco’s dresser drawers, checked the shelf in his closet, even looked under the bed. He felt like an idiot. But Marco had worked so hard, sacrificed so much, to build this house. If it went up in flames, Marco would need proof that he owned the property. He’d have to file insurance claims and jump through hoops Elijah could barely imagine. The least Elijah could do was save the crucial paperwork.
He could hear the TV in the living room. “The sheriff’s department is now issuing a mandatory evacuation notice for the towns of Diamond Ridge and Hayden . . . ”
This is it.
“We don’t have much time,” Elijah said to Serafina.
Serafina turned around and trotted back to the living room.
He’d just have to ask Marco again. He’d tell his uncle about the mandatory evacuation. He’d find a way to make him understand . . .
As Elijah crossed the living room on the way to the front door, Serafina let out a low growl.
This dog wasn’t a growler. Growling was beneath her. Elijah paused. She was sitting in front of the game cabinet again. All his and Marco’s gaming systems were in there. Marco had these huge, ancient consoles from the eighties and nineties . . .
Elijah knelt down in front of the cabinet. He moved aside a few of the outdated monster-sized consoles on the top shelf. Nothing there. He tried the lower shelf. No luck.
Wait . . .
Elijah put his hand on the underside of the top shelf and felt something soft. A moment later he pulled out the manila envelope that had been taped there.
Inside the envelope was a stack of official-looking papers. Elijah flipped through them at light-speed. There were his custody papers—his birth certificate—medical records. And, yes, the deed to Marco’s property.
Mission accomplished. Elijah leapt to his feet. “Good work, girl! Seriously, we could have our own TV show or something.”
Serafina leveled her beady brown dog eyes at him, like, Please.
Elijah raced outside.
“Marco! We gotta go! The mandatory evacuation got issued! Come on!”
The sky had changed color. The orange had deepened, turning from a sunset shade to a sort of glowing darkness, like hot charcoal. Elijah suddenly felt that he wasn’t standing out in the open at all. He was trapped under a dome of rust-colored smoke.
A dull roaring noise filled the air. And Elijah saw the flames, no more than half a mile away, flowing into Hayden as fast as a rushing river.
“It’s here! Marco, it’s right here!”
10
Brenna
Scrambling out of the ravine took a while. Keegan’s injured arm made the climb harder for him, so Brenna and Nicole took turns supporting him. When they reached the top, Nicole said, “We should all be drinking water. Isn’t it super important to stay hydrated in situations like this?”
“You’re right,” said Brenna. So Nicole wasn’t totally clueless about surviving in the wilderness after all. Brenna tried not to let her surprise show. Maybe she’d been underestimating the others the same way Keegan had underestimated her.
They sipped from their water bottles as they jogged west. A few minutes later, Brenna felt the change in the wind. No. No no no . . .
“Guys, not to make this day even worse, but . . . I think the wind is shifting again.”
“Yeah,” agreed Keegan. “It’s coming out of the east now, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Meaning it was blowing the fire west—the same way they were moving.
“That could be a good thing, though, right?” said Nicole. “If the fire’s to the south, and it just starts moving west, it’ll be parallel to us. It won’t catch up to us that way.”
“True,” said Brenna. “The problem is the other fire.”
The bigger fire. The one to the east of them.
Nicole gasped, so Brenna figured she understood.
The bigger fire was moving directly toward them now.
More shreds of ash drifted out of the sky. Thousands of embers, glowing like fireflies, skittered along the ground, blowing ahead of the fire. They landed on bushes, tree branches, grass. Mini-fires had ignited on all sides. Brenna felt the heat building. She was sweating through her light sweater. The stray hairs at the nape of her neck—strands too short for her ponytail—were plastered to her damp skin. Brenna’s phone burned in her jeans pocket. She pulled it out, wondering if it was getting fried. Some cell phones overheated and exploded if you covered them with a pillow. Brenna slipped her phone into the mesh side pocket of her backpack. At least if it exploded there, it wouldn’t take her thigh with it.
The sky’s orange hue deepened, and the approaching flames combined with the wind to create a deep roar—a sound that reminded Brenna of the revving of a jet engine. A sound that kept getting louder.
“Look out!” shouted Nicole. She grabbed Brenna’s arm and yanked her sideways. An instant later, a flaming tree branch landed inches from Brenna.
“Thanks,” Brenna gasped. She doubted Nicole even heard her above the noise.
They kept going. A minute later, Brenna glanced down at her compass to make sure they were still on course.
That was her mistake.
If she’d seen the falling tree half a second sooner, she would’ve dodged it completely.
As it toppled, she tried to veer out of the way. But the trunk clipped her backpack, throwing off her weight. She felt herself falling, twisting in midair as she lost her balance.
She felt herself land.
She didn’t feel the tree land on her lower right leg. Not right away, at least.
She just tried to keep moving and realized she couldn’t. She lay on the ground in an awkward sprawl, like a failed snow angel. Her foot was pinned under the tree trunk.
Which was on fire.
Nicole and Keegan were both shouting—screaming, technically. Brenna heard Keegan yell, “We have to put the flames out first! Use your jacket!”
Nicole dropped her backpack and peeled off her jacket. She and Keegan both beat at the tree trunk with the fabric. Gradually they smothered the flames near Brenna’s leg. Then they knelt down next to the trunk.
“We’re going to get this off you, Brenna,” Keegan said. “Just give us a second.”
“Be careful.” Brenna didn’t recognize her own voice. It sounded like the voice of someone who’d been smoking for fifty years. Or someone who was being strangled. “It’s got to weigh close to a hundred pounds.” How did she know that, when she couldn’t even feel it sitting on top of her? Certain parts of her brain must be running loose, doing work without her.
Keegan looked at Nicole. “I don’t think I can get a good grip, with my arm . . . ”
“It’s okay,” said Nicole grimly. “I’ve got this. Brenna, do you think you can move your leg, once the tree’s out of the way?”
“Um . .
. I’m not sure it’ll move on its own. But I can pull myself clear with my arms, as long as you get the weight off it.”
“I’ll help you,” said Keegan. Crouching beside her, he wrapped his good arm around her waist. “Whenever you say, Nicole.”
“Okay then—here we go.” Nicole wrapped her arms around the scorched trunk and heaved up. “Now!”
Brenna felt the trunk lift off her leg. She felt Keegan pulling her backward before she could even think about moving. And then, finally, she felt the pain. It rushed into her lower leg all at once. She wanted to scream, but she could barely get enough breath for a decent gasp.
When Brenna was clear, Nicole let the trunk drop back to the ground with a thud.
“You’re not gonna be able to stand on that,” Keegan said firmly. For once, Brenna completely agreed with him.
“We have to move, though,” she choked out. “Help me up. Leave my backpack behind.”
She wriggled out of her backpack straps, trying not to think about the gear she’d lose. Nicole grabbed Brenna’s water bottle and phone, forcing Brenna to sip some water before shoving both items in her own backpack. Then Keegan and Nicole got on either side of her and gently eased her upright. The three of them staggered in place. Brenna tried to balance on her good leg but found herself leaning heavily on Nicole. Keegan coughed on a lungful of ash.
This might be easier if we could all at least breathe, Brenna thought.
“Guess it’s your turn to break a bone now, Nicole,” said Keegan.
“Not even funny,” said Nicole. She held up Brenna’s compass, which she must’ve picked up off the ground. “West is that way. Come on.”
***
Five minutes later, they were all wheezing from the smoke. Brenna’s brain seemed to have split in two. One half was calculating wind direction, wind speed, distances. The other half was howling in pain, almost loudly enough to drown out the sound of the fire as it barreled toward them.
We’re moving too slowly. I’m moving too slowly.
Backfire Page 3
