He studied the dark trail again, slid his gaze to the burning forest, and then shook his head. “No. The gear is expendable. You’re not.”
“Understood. Get what you need, then.” She thrust his backpack toward him. “Bye-bye, new tent.”
“We’ll get another.” He shoved his hand inside and retrieved his radio and his mobile phone. His hand touched something cool and smooth, and he pulled it out. The waterproof bag. We might need this. “Did you pack this?”
“Yes,” she said, looking grim. “You’ve trained me to be thorough.”
“Good woman.” Nodding, he clipped the bag to his waistband, and then he lifted his phone and tapped 911.
Nothing happened.
“Let’s go,” he said to Blaire. “Maybe we can get a signal farther down the trail.”
She nodded.
The only thing he cared about at this moment was her. He would not lose Blaire in this fire, even if he had to sacrifice his own life.
His eyes met hers, noting the terror lurking beneath her brave front.
“It’ll be okay,” he said to her, as he clipped the radio to his belt. “We can do this. Fires follow predictable patterns. I’ve fought fires far worse than this.”
He paused, lifting his gaze to the flames swirling in the wind, wishing he believed his sentiment. The wind might change everything.
The reflection of fire danced on the surface of the lake. It created a macabre sort of orange and gold beauty, like beautiful destruction.
Jackson nodded for Blaire to follow and then took off, rounding the bend. Blaire matched his pace.
Up ahead lay a section of trail with flames dancing across, taunting and teasing like a wicked seductress.
“Hold up,” Jackson said, slowing to a halt. “We can’t go through that.”
“No kidding.” Her voice quavered. She glanced over her shoulder. “What are we going to do?”
He directed his flashlight beam in a half-circle, searching for ideas. To their left, down a rocky outcropping, stood the lake.
“We swim. It’s a pretty rocky climb. Think you can do it?”
She studied him, her eyes moist, her mouth a rictus of fear. Without saying anything, she gave a quick nod.
His heart sank. She’s terrified.
“We’ve got this. Look.” He pointed farther up the lake where an absence of orange flames marked the trail. “If we get out of the lake up there, there’s no fire,” he said, encouragingly.
As fast as they could, they picked their way down the stones. Once they stood at the water’s edge, Jackson unclipped the waterproof bag from his belt. “Flashlight.”
Blaire dropped hers in, and he did the same, and then added the radio and phone.
His mind whirled. “Let’s put our jackets in here. I think we can stuff them in, so they’re small enough. Once we get out, we’ll be wet, and we need to stay warm. Don’t want hypothermia setting in.” He gave her his most reassuring smile. “Hurry.”
He set down the bag and doffed his down jacket, before compressing it into the bottom of the bag.
“What about our boots?” Blaire said, stripping off her jacket. She crushed it and stuffed it into the bag with his.
“No way can we take our boots off. We can’t risk injuring our feet when we’re back on dry land and removing them eats up time. We’ll have to wade or swim with them on.” Satisfied with his decision, he closed the waterproof satchel and sealed the closure. He unbuckled his belt, slid the belt end through the loop of the of the dry-sack, and re-secured his buckle. It’s going to slow me down, but at least our phones and radio will be dry. Then, he placed his hands on Blaire’s shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. “Ready?”
Curling her fingers over his wrists, she nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
They waded out into the water, lit by flaming trees.
Side by side, they swam. The dry-bag at his hip bobbed in the water, adding buoyancy, while his boots felt like anchors.
As they proceeded, Jackson kept his gaze on the fire, noting its speed and progress, and on Blaire. So far, the fire wasn’t moving as fast as he’d feared. It could be contained. His station could easily manage it.
The big unknown was Jake and Chase. Their unknown whereabouts weighed heavily on Jackson’s mind.
Blaire kept up a steady stroke.
In the distance, three deer blasted free of the burning woods. They scrambled for the lake, making loud splashes when they entered the water.
A few yards away, a mama raccoon and two babies waddled toward the lake.
“Poor babies,” Blaire said.
“I’m sure there are more where they came from,” Jackson said.
When they got to where the trail looked clear, they headed back to shore. Wading out, Jackson had to heave his boots through the mud, making for slow-going steps.
Blaire slogged behind him.
Once they stood on solid ground, he turned to her.
Her hair lay plastered to her skull. Her clothes dripped from her frame. Still, she was as beautiful as ever. She shook her arms and legs, and water flung from her skin and clothes.
“You doing okay?” he said, as he freed the dry-sack from his belt.
“Well,” she said, breathless, “let’s see. We’re in the middle of a forest fire, we’re cold and wet from swimming…I’m fine.” She flashed him a small smile. “I guess my high school competitive swimming came in handy for something.”
“So it seems. I’m proud of you. I know you’re scared, but you’re not letting it stop you.”
“Thank you. I’m trying.”
He unclipped the top of the bag, unrolled it, and fished out their jackets and their flashlights.
“Here,” he said, handing over her light and outer garment.
She peeled off her drenched shirt and shoved her damp arms into the sleeves of her coat.
He did the same. Then, he fished out his phone and his radio, clipped the radio to his belt, and jammed the flashlight under his arm to free up both his hands. After tapping 911, he prayed for a signal.
“Nine-one-one operator. Please state your emergency,” a voice said.
Oh, thank God.
“This is Jackson O’Halloran,” he said. “I’m with the Clearfall County District Seven fire department. I was vacationing with my girlfriend. I’m up in the woods at the top of Egg Ranch Road. There’s a fire approximately six acres at Luna Lake.”
“Okay, Mr. O’Halloran. Can you repeat that for verification please?”
“I’m Jackson O’Halloran. I’m with the Clearfall County District Seven fire department. My number is one-fifty-seven. My girlfriend and I are exiting the woods at the top of Egg Ranch Road. There’s a fire approximately six acres at the north end of Luna Lake.”
“And what phone number are you calling from?” the calm female voice said.
Jackson repeated his number.
“Can you tell me how you discovered the fire?”
He eyed the flames to his far right.
“Let’s go,” he mouthed to Blaire.
She nodded.
“We’re camping. I woke up to the sound of flames.”
“Okay, so you woke up to the sound of flames, did I hear that correctly?”
“Yes. Approximately six acres, as far as I can tell. We’re on the move. We need to get out of here.”
“Are you or your girlfriend in need of medical care?”
“No,” he said. “Neither of us are hurt. But we have to keep moving, or we might be. My brother, though…” He paused, shoving aside his worry. “My brother and his girlfriend are missing. They were camping with us. I couldn’t find them before I left.”
“Okay, so you’re reporting a forest fire in the vicinity of Egg Ranch Road, approximately six acres. And two missing people.” The dispatcher oozed practiced calm.
“Copy that,” Jackson said, eying Blaire who hurried beside him. “We’re about two miles north of the trailhead at the top of Egg Ranc
h Road.”
Blaire hugged herself, and her body began to shiver.
Jackson mimicked zipping his jacket to the top of the zipper clasp.
Blaire glanced down, nodded, and zipped her coat up all the way. She flashed him a thumbs up.
“Okay, so you’re approximately two miles north of the trailhead at the top of Egg Ranch Road, did I hear that correctly?” the dispatcher said.
“Yes,” Jackson panted into the phone.
“I’ll be contacting Station Forty-Three and will call you back if I need more information. You stay safe.”
“Thank you.” Jackson disconnected, dropped the phone into his coat pocket and increased his speed.
A few seconds later, tones sounded through his radio. An engine and a tender were dispatched to the fire.
The tender called in with their whereabouts.
Within minutes, a familiar voice responded.
“Dispatch from Engine Forty-Three,” Griffin said.
“Engine Forty-Three, go ahead.”
“Engine Forty-Three is en route to Egg Ranch Road.”
“Okay, Engine Forty-Three is en route to Egg Ranch Road.”
Jackson, still hurrying along the trail, unclipped the radio and held it before his mouth. “Engine Forty-Three, from One-Fifty-Seven.”
“One-Fifty-Seven,” Griffin said, surprise evident in his voice. “Go ahead.”
“I’m racing down the trail from the fire. I’m the RP.”
“You’re the reporting party? Damn.”
“Yep, that’s me. We’ll be at the trailhead in about forty. I’ve got all my gear in the truck. It’s a one-lane narrow dirt road up here leading from the top of Egg Ranch Road. It widens into a parking area.”
“Yeah, I’ve been there. It’ll be tight. We’ll rendezvous with you. Stay put at the trailhead and stay safe.”
“Copy that.”
The sky began to lighten into predawn. Soon the sun would be competing with the flames in a “who’s a bad-ass fire” boasting competition. But until that happened, he followed his bouncing flashlight beam, stumbling over rocks along the uneven terrain.
As he raced along the trail, his mind kept veering back up the hill to the empty tent that Jake should have been sleeping in. Where did he go? Did he and Chase simply leave? Another chilling thought slithered into his brain. What if Jake started the fire as part of a prank? He wouldn’t…would he? He may be stupid, but he’s not an idiot. He shoved that thought as far away from him as he could. He refused to believe Jake could do something to cause that much harm.
“Look,” Blaire called, breathing hard. “We made it.”
Jackson yanked himself out of his fretting and directed his attention to where she pointed. Through the trees, he sighted his truck. In a few quick strides he and Blaire stood near his Ford…and Chase’s SUV.
“Goddamn it,” he snarled. “I would have been pissed about him leaving, but it’s better than finding his SUV still here. He could be anywhere.” He waved his hand at the forest. “He and Chase could be hurt or worse.” He refused to say the word “dead.”
“I know you’re worried,” Blaire said, putting her hand on his arm. “I don’t know what to say. This is so fucked up—all of it.” She gestured toward the woods, glancing over her shoulder. “I sure hope Chase and Jake are okay.”
“Me, too,” Jackson said, grimly.
Blaire bit her lip as she regarded him. “You don’t think Karlos had something to do with this, do you? Could he have set the fire? Kidnapped your brother?” A shiver quaked through her.
Jackson reached out and pulled her close. “Anything’s possible. At this point, I’m done thinking everything is going to be okay. I should have listened to you when you first said you didn’t want to make this fucking trip.”
“Stop kicking yourself, Jackson.” She melted into him.
She smelled of smoke and lake water and sweat. He inhaled deeply, savoring the feeling of her in his arms.
The rumble of a fire rig interrupted the moment. He eased back, gave her a quick kiss, and strode toward his Ford. After unlocking the bin in the truck bed, he pulled out his wildland gear. Swiftly, he peeled off his wet clothes, draping them over the side of the truck.
As he donned his yellow uniform, he said, “You can take my truck down the hill. One of the guys can give me a lift after this is all over.”
“Got it,” she said. “Hand me the keys.”
He fished them out of his damp pants pocket and tossed them in her direction.
She deftly caught them.
The nose of the engine appeared from around the corner, followed by the tender.
He lifted his hand in greeting. His much-needed vacation had come to an abrupt end, his brother and new girlfriend were missing, and his life was a shitstorm.
Chapter 29
Jackson’s heart lurched around in his chest as he watched the taillights of his truck head down the hill. The brake lights came on, the truck stopped, and Blaire leaned out of the window. She blew a kiss to him. He pretended to catch it and tuck the loving sentiment into his pocket.
Smiling, Blaire pulled her head inside the cab, and the vehicle disappeared from sight down the hill.
The sun began to play hide and seek with the trees as it ascended. Already, the smothering stillness of unseasonably warm temperatures hung heavy in the air. He cast his gaze to the cloudless sky. Whoever’s out there, please keep Blaire safe.
He zipped up his boots and removed his wildland tools from his gear bag. Thoughts of his missing brother ping-ponged through his head. Where the hell could he be?
“Let’s gear up and go offensive,” Chief Menendez called out, jerking him back to the present.
Activity hummed all around him as Griffin, Mark, Cassandra, and the others geared up. Captain MacHugh donned his red helmet, indicating his status as crew supervisor.
Great. Just great. It has to be MacHugh today. Jackson made a wide arc around the captain as he strode toward Menendez.
Mendez looked up at him. “Crappy way to end a vacation, Hollerback.”
“I’ll say. I need to let you know there are two people unaccounted for—my brother, Jake, and his girlfriend, Chase.”
“I heard something about that on dispatch. Shit,” Menendez said.
“You got that right.”
“You think they’re out there?” Menendez waved his hand toward the forest.
“Looks like it.” Jackson pointed to Chase’s vehicle. “That’s his girlfriend’s SUV.”
“Last known whereabouts?” Menendez said, his dark eyes intense.
“At the northeast end of Luna Lake. That’s where our campsite was located. Their tent was empty when I checked. I searched for them, but then it seemed prudent to escape with my girl.”
Menendez nodded. “I’ll initiate search and rescue. Don’t worry. We’ve got you covered.” He patted Jackson’s upper arm and then turned his attention toward the forest. “You say it’s about six acres?”
“Yes, last I saw. It wasn’t progressing too fast last I looked. I think we can contain it.”
“Good, good. This damn drought isn’t doing us any favors, though. There’s got to be a lot of fuel for the fire in these dry woods.” His jaw tensed. “Let’s go see what we can do. Head on up with your team and let’s put this fire to rest.”
Jackson strode back to his gear bag. He grabbed his web gear, consisting of his fire shelter, water, and protein bars, as well as his pack, which held extra clothing and some hose tools. Then, he strode toward the engine to snag a chain saw. Hefting it onto his shoulders, he strode to where the others were starting to gather.
“All squads, convene over here,” MacHugh called.
Jackson progressed toward Griffin, Mark, and the other nine members of his team.
“Glad you could join us today, O’Halloran,” MacHugh said, with his usual snark.
Jackson said nothing. He stared straight ahead, impassively.
“We’re going to
go offensive,” MacHugh said, repeating the instructions Menendez had already given. “O’Halloran.” He spat out the name as if it hurt to say it.
“Yes, sir.”
“Show us where the fire was when you saw it.”
Jackson pulled out his phone and opened his USGS topography map. He strode next to MacHugh, who held a Garmin device in his hand.
“When first alerted to the fire we were camping up here, at Luna Lake,” Jackson said. “The fire was moving northeast, heading up the hills. It ringed the northeast end of the lake. At approximately two forty-five am, the fire looked to be about six acres.”
“Uh, huh,” MacHugh grunted. He checked his wristwatch. “And now it’s five-ten am. The wind has been blowing all morning. It could be hundreds of acres by now.”
“The fire blocked the trail right here.” Jackson tapped a place on the map, giving the coordinates. “We’ll have to seek an alternate route.”
“Okay.” MacHugh glanced up at the rest of the crew.
Most of them held their phones in front of their faces. A few leaned over to look at the screens of their fellow firefighters.
“Everyone ready?” MacHugh said.
All heads nodded.
He glanced toward the trail.
“Let’s move out,” he said, in a ‘general commanding the Army’ kind of way.
Jackson exchanged eye-rolls with Griffin.
The firefighters all lined up in single file formation and began their ascent up the mountain. As they climbed, rolling clouds of black smoke heralded the progression of the fire. Flames licked the trees in the distance. The air smelled of smoke and burning wood.
To their right, down the hill, Luna Lake twinkled with the promise of cool water, in sharp contrast to the glowing flames.
Below where the trail was blocked off, MacHugh led them to a small clearing. “Gather around, everyone.”
Jackson placed his chainsaw down and assembled with the others.
“Smith and Caldwell,” MacHugh said, pointing at a couple of the guys.
“Yes, sir,” they said at the same time.
“Let’s size up the scene. The rest of you prepare for battle.”
Jackson and Griffin exchanged glances and shook their heads. As the scene lookouts tromped up the hill, Griffin said, “So, what happened?”
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