He maneuvered his steering toggles so he would arrive as close to the fast-moving fire as he could without getting himself killed. A lot of good he’d do Peyton if he got caught up in a burning tree, and if he ended up too close to the fire, the updrafts could steer him farther away.
The terrain beneath him was far from ideal for a first jump in years. Jagged rocks dotted the hillside where the trees weren’t. His Kevlar jumpsuit would be put to the test not to be punctured or torn.
He hit like a sack of shit and the wind took his parachute uphill, toppling him sideways so he fell hard on his hip. Damn, he was too old for this. Untangling himself from the parachute cords, he sat up. He couldn’t see ahead of himself through the smoke. Frustrated, he unhooked his parachute and let it fall to the ground.
Doug ran through the smoke toward him. “You all right?”
Gabe brushed off the concern and climbed stiffly to his feet, rubbing his bruised hip. “Do you see her?”
“No, but the fire’s down there.” He gestured downhill. “She should be too.”
Gabe considered calling out to her, but she wouldn’t be able to hear him over the fire, and shouting in all this smoke would be murder on his throat. Doug was good at what he did, but Gabe’s focus had to be on Peyton. So he would trust Doug’s sense of direction and his own instincts to find her.
Peyton stopped running, her calves and thighs burning with the strain, and found herself standing in grass up to her knees.
Fuel.
Oh God.
Terror had seized her from the moment she saw the wind kick the flames in her direction. She hadn’t worried when she and Kim came up on the mountain because it appeared everything had been burned away, but now the fire fed on fresh fuel and flames climbed over her head.
The heat rolled over her, and Peyton wanted to tear off her fire shirt to cool herself, but Gabe had taught her well. Of course, right now she was less concerned with the embers than the flames chasing her.
Had Kim set another fire or was this the same one?
She had to get around the flank of the fire. She stopped, just for a moment to assess the situation. The blaze was beautiful, leaping toward the sky in brilliant colors. Mesmerizing.
Jolting herself out of her hypnotism, she realized the fire cradled her in its arms and the only way out was straight ahead—up the mountain.
Panic would kill her. But the smoke closed around her, obscuring her view not only of her escape, but of the fire. What had she learned in her time out here? The only thought in her fear-frozen mind was Gabe’s warning to stay in the burnout. But it was behind her, on the other side of the fire.
Was she going to die out here? A fit of coughing doubled her over. A week ago, she’d had nothing to lose, had no focus.
No love. No Gabe.
The possibility of what she and Gabe could have together filled her with hope. She couldn’t die before seeing what they could become.
Smoke seeped through the bandana covering her face. Something snapped in her mind and she started to think of her own death detachedly. Would the flames catch her first, burn her to death, or would she collapse from smoke inhalation, and the flames would devour her body?
Would Gabe bring down her body? He would feel obligated to, but she didn’t want him to remember her like that. She’d seen how hard it had been for him to prepare himself to bring down Bev and the others.
Tears of terror joined tears of smoke irritation and the muscles in her thighs screamed as she ran to escape death.
Ahead of her, yellow shirts emerged from the smoke so close they almost collided. Otherwise they might be a mirage.
“Peyton?” one of the yellow shirts croaked.
“Gabe!”
The farthest yellow shirt ran toward her and she made out Gabe’s face through the smoke and soot. Relief had every muscle going lax and she stumbled toward him, but like a dream he was there to catch her. He’d come through the fire for her, and the elation nearly brought her to her knees. Was she already dead—how could he come for her when he didn’t know she was here?
But then he took her face in his hands and inspected her to make sure she was all right. For a moment it seemed like he might kiss her. Instead he grabbed her hand and turned back the way he came.
“It’s close,” he told her as she jogged beside him, her gloved hand clasped tightly in his.
“We’re going to make it, right?” She wiped sweat from her eyes. For the first time since she saw the flames, she believed it. Gabe wouldn’t let anything happen to her. They’d get their chance at happily-ever-after after all.
He glanced over at her. “You bet.”
“I tried to remember what you taught me but I couldn’t.”
His expression was grim. “Experience is the best teacher. Follow me. I’ll find a way out.”
“Can’t we just go out the way you came in?”
“We jumped in.”
Peyton stumbled and Gabe’s hand tightened around hers. He jumped. Into a fire. For her. “You jumped? Out of a plane?”
“I had to get here in a hurry.”
“You hate to fly.”
“I don’t like it that much.”
“But you came.”
“I came.” The expression in his eyes said more than any kiss. He tugged at her hand, urging her along.
She squeezed his hand. Her heart, still pumping madly, swelled with love, but now was not the time to say anything more than, “Thank you.”
“What?”
“You’re getting us out of here, right?”
He raised her dirty-gloved fingers to his lips, kissed them without breaking stride. “I’m getting us out of here.”
He’d found her. Unbelievable. Not until he touched her did he realize he’d expected to lose her. The blood in her hair sent another wave of panic through him, but she seemed lucid. Now he had her and wasn’t letting go. He’d find a way to get her out of here.
The radios were useless—the mountain was between them and the base camp. He couldn’t count on someone else to direct them. His experience would get them back.
Doug hurried over to them. “We have to get over the ridge.”
“No.” Gabe didn’t slow. “The fire could spill over, or worse, overtake us while we’re climbing.” Like on Angel Ridge.
Doug looked as frustrated as Gabe felt. “How are we going to get back? The fire’s on both sides of us and in back of us. The only way to get out is ahead of us, up and over the ridge.”
“What was your escape route?” Gabe asked Peyton. He’d drilled that much sense into her.
“Back there.” She jerked her head. “But the fire had blown up by the time I woke up. Gabe, it was Kim.”
“I know.” The words squeezed out of his throat.
Doug sighed. “All right. Let’s keep moving until we can figure something else out.”
Gabe’s legs strained with the effort to move quickly, his shoulder ached from pulling Peyton along, though she did her best to keep up. His feet and knees hurt from his rough landing. He refused to let panic take him, though. That would kill them all for sure.
Ordinarily Gabe walked at the rear of his crew, ensuring they reached safety ahead of him. Today Peyton’s safety came first.
Shouts had them turning, but Gabe still pulled her uphill. Sheer force of will kept them upright.
Smoke billowed around them, obscuring the other smokejumpers, but worse, obscuring the fire. Gabe put himself between Peyton and the fire. The rest of the crew were no longer in sight. He hesitated a moment, considering going back after them, then turned around. They were trained firefighters. The best of the best, Jen would say.
“Come on!” he called to Peyton.
“Gabe, we can’t leave them!” The shock in her voice carried through the smoke.
“Doug will get them back.”
“We can’t leave them!” She dug in her heels and he glared at her impatiently.
“We can’t reach them. They know what
to do. I’m more worried about you. Let’s go!”
Off balance as he pulled on her, she scrambled after him. “I’m scared.”
“Do you trust me?”
She didn’t think twice before answering. “Yes. Yes, of course.”
“I’ll get you out of here. But you have to promise to do what I say.”
She nodded.
They scrambled up the side of the mountain. As the route became steeper, she sobbed with frustration and fear, sucking smoke into her lungs.
The optimism she’d felt when she had first seen Gabe dissipated now in the hopelessness of the situation. Even Gabe wasn’t good enough to get them out of this. She was too weak—she couldn’t keep up this brutal pace with the fire pushing them forward. Her hair was burning, and she batted at it. The roar of the flames drowned the pounding of her own blood in her ears, or the choking of her own breath.
“Gabe, please! Go on! You can move faster without me. Go!”
He stared at her as if he didn’t understand. Then he let go of her hand.
Chapter Fifteen
Peyton’s heart sank as she washed adrift in the smoke, abandoned. She hadn’t really considered he’d leave her behind, not after jumping out of an airplane, but if he couldn’t save both of them, he should save himself. Her muscles screamed with relief when she slowed down. She wouldn’t be able to get going again.
She was going to die on this mountain. It was over. She couldn’t fight anymore. It wouldn’t be so bad, right? Just one breath of superheated air and it would be over. No more pain, no more loneliness.
No more Gabe. She squeezed her eyes shut and vowed not to think about what might have been.
Gabe reappeared through the smoke and shoved his fire shelter at her. Hope flared as she shook out the thin rectangle of foil-looking fabric. Then he reached into his pack and pulled out a fusee. Holding her eyes with his, he lit the flare.
She jolted backwards. Was he insane? All they needed up here was another fire. When he bent to light the grass in front of them, she thought he’d gone over the edge. The dry grass blackened and curled as the flames devoured it greedily. Now they were surrounded by fire—no escape. Was this some crazy suicide? Was he determined to die in flames?
He turned away to watch his infant fire race uphill, growing larger, faster. Then he kicked at the ash left behind, took the shelter from her and placed it in the burned out area, holding the flap open.
“Peyton,” he said to draw her attention. “Did you train on this?”
She nodded blindly, vaguely recalling that the shelters looked like burritos, and sat on the floor of the shelter. Her whole body sore, she rolled onto her stomach, clutching at the slippery fabric beneath her. It would all be over soon and she might not feel anything again. As she stretched out, understanding began to dawn in her fatigued mind. He’d created a burned-out area for them in the hopes the fire would go around them, unable to find fuel where they lay.
He looked down at her, stretched on the silver fabric because she trusted him to save her life. He prayed he didn’t fail her. He rolled into the fire shelter with her and covered her body with his, buried his face in her shoulder, and secured the fire shelter around them. He couldn’t allow smoke to creep in, or flames that might ignite their hair or skin, or the superheated gases that would sear their lungs.
Beneath him, Peyton whimpered and shuddered. Gabe prayed this would work. The shelter wouldn’t stand up to direct flame, but his little fire should have created enough of a break so the fire would separate and go around them, chasing the dry grass and brush feeding it.
Peyton was panicking, tremors racing through her body. He feared she might get up and try to run. So he would keep her with him. It would be unbearably hot inside the tiny tent the firefighters called a “Shake and Bake”, but they would survive. If he didn’t, please God, let his body give Peyton enough protection to keep her alive.
The roar of the fire was tremendous, so loud Peyton could barely hear Gabe’s breath rushing in her ear, his heart pounding, or her own. The heat made it feel like her flesh was melting from her bones. The air was so dry it hurt to breathe, and sweat drenched her whole body.
She couldn’t stand it. The fire was right over them and the shelter acted like an oven, holding the heat in. The weight of Gabe’s body only increased the temperature of her own. Her heart pounded against her ribs and her nerves were making it impossible to stay still. The waiting to die, waiting for the fire to overtake them, was devastating, and she couldn’t nurture the smallest grain of hope she’d live through this. She’d never be a mother, never be a wife again, a lover. They would die together in this shelter, a terrible thought when they’d only begun to find what life was again.
Every nerve in her body screamed for her to run. She had to get out of here, now. She was suffocating. She started kicking and clawing, trying to get free of this tinfoil roasting them alive.
“No.” Gabe shifted his weight, pinning her arms and legs. “Peyton, hold still.”
“I can’t breathe!” she cried. He was crushing her into the hard, hot ground and she was going to die, choked to death because her lungs wouldn’t expand.
“Just a little longer,” he soothed, his hands steady on her wrists as he held them. “Trust me. Trust me.”
Whimpering, she snorted in soot and dirt, trying not to cough. The soles of her feet burned—were her boots melting?
Gabe’s body tensed over hers and he was seized by a fit of coughing. He tried to muffle it against her shoulder but couldn’t. His dry racking cough pierced through the sound of the fire.
But when Gabe’s cough subsided, the fire no longer sounded like it was on top of them.
“Wait, wait,” Gabe urged. Could that be hope in his voice? Had he been as scared as she was, or had he always known he could get them out?
They lay there, face down, for what may have been hours, too tired, too scared to talk, to do anything but lie there and breathe and thank God they were alive. Only when she no longer heard the fire did her pulse stop racing. She was impatient to get out of the shelter, get to her feet, but silently Gabe held her still.
Finally he slid his hand through the opening of the shelter, felt the ground outside. Apparently satisfied, he pulled the shelter over his head and sat up.
The air still shimmered with heat and every breath Peyton took seared her nose and throat, burned in her chest. She wiped dirt and soot from her eyes. She winced as she lifted her arms above her head. Her skin felt tight, like she had a bad sunburn. No telling how bad it was, with her body covered with soot.
“Where are the others?” She perused the remaining forest, the stripped trees, the blackened ground, the cracked rocks.
The grass where Peyton had been standing when the fire came up.
There was no sign of any other shelters through the clearing smoke. Had the others been ahead of them or behind them? How could they have outrun the fire?
He stood slowly, stiffly, and reached to help her to her feet. “I don’t know.”
“We have to find them.”
“We have to get you back to safety,” he countered.
“No.” Tears filled her eyes. “We can’t go back until we’re sure they’re all right.”
He dusted off some of the soot from her face, cupped her cheek in his hand. The indecision in his eyes was so out of character. “I can’t risk you.”
She reached up and clutched his hand, determined to make him understand. “If you take me to camp, then try to come back up, it will be too late for them.”
Gabe weighed his options, not taking his eyes off her. He felt like hell after the jump, after the time in the shelter. But she was staring at him like he was a hero, like he was invincible. As far as she was concerned, he was.
He reached for his radio, then snatched his hand away from the super-heated plastic that burned through his glove. The flames raced up the mountain, and the other firefighters were on the other side of those flames. He had to fin
d out how much longer until they could expect the slurry. They’d been under the shelter for some time, waiting for the air to cool, so it shouldn’t be long before it arrived.
If it was longer than fifteen minutes, they might as well forget it. Jen would be a widow. He had to find Doug for her.
“Come on.” He let go of Peyton, trusting she’d follow him. With renewed energy he charged up the hill. He unhooked his radio from his belt and tossed it from hand to hand until he could bear to press the button. Since they were higher on the mountain, he should be able to reach camp.
“Jen! Damn it, Jen!” he shouted into the radio, the button scorching his thumb.
“Gabe, did you find them?” she asked through the interference. Either their position or the damage to his radio created poor reception. “I can’t get through to Doug.”
Oh damn. Not a good sign. But he had to tell her. “Found Peyton, lost Doug.”
“What do you mean?”
“Peyton and I deployed. When we got out of the shelter we didn’t see the rest of the crew.”
Silence. Long, painful silence. Gabe’s gut cramped, knowing what she was thinking, what she was feeling. He’d been there just a few hours before, helpless, so far away.
“Gabe, you can’t let him—”
“I’m going after him, but we’re going to need the slurry,” he said, not wanting to hear his ex-wife express fear for her husband. The father of her child.
“ETA’s forty-five minutes. Where do you want it?”
Gabe clenched his jaw. Forty-five minutes would be too late. She was better off not knowing. “Just get him up here as quick as you can. Have him go up the ridge, drop maybe two hundred and fifty feet below that. He’ll see the fire, no doubt about it.”
“What are we going to do?” Peyton asked, panting along behind him as he clipped the radio back to his belt and strode uphill. “That’s not going to be fast enough, is it?”
He glanced at her. “Nope.”
“So we can’t do anything?”
Hot Shot Page 20
