Page 24 of Fire Bear

His expression darkened. “Where is it? How bad is it?” He paused, listening, his face turning grim. “We’re on our way.” He ended the call, his knuckles whitening around the phone.

Eliana’s pulse hammered in her ears. “What is it?” she asked.

He met her eyes, and she saw alarm flicker. “It’s your orchard. There’s a massive fire.”

Chapter

Seventeen

Redand blue lights flashed in the darkness as Ash guided the truck along the orchard’s main road. A thick curtain of smoke rose behind the rows of apple trees. Eliana leaned forward, eyes wide with fear.

When Ash finally rounded the last curve, the full scale of the emergency lay before him. The orchard glowed with an eerie orange light. Several Fire Patrol vehicles were parked at awkward angles, and crew members rushed between them. The roar of the fire filled the air.

He pulled his truck to a jolting stop, and Eliana was already reaching for the door handle. The fear in her eyes made his heart clench.

“Eliana,” he said, his voice tight, “please stay by the main road or near one of the trucks. Do not go near the flames. My crew should be able to contain it, but I need you to be careful.”

She nodded, but her jaw was set. “I will,” she whispered. She opened her door and climbed out into the swirling smoke and flashing lights.

He swung out of the driver’s seat and immediately spotted two of his fellow firefighters, Kyle and Erin, sprinting across the orchard field. Kyle waved urgently for Ash to hurry. The thick tang of burning wood made Ash’s eyes water as he jogged over. Each footstep kicked up dust, and the rumbling pop of flames filled his ears.

“Chief,” Kyle called, barely slowing as Ash reached them, “it spread fast through the forest behind the orchard. The old outbuildings at the back are fully engulfed. We’re trying to keep it from jumping into the orchard trees, but the wind is picking up.”

Ash scanned the scene. Even in the dim light he could see two small outbuildings in flames. Fire crackled along their roofs and walls. Beyond them, the forest was alight with orange flames. Smoke billowed upward, casting a haze that reflected the flashing lights.

“Where’s the command post?” Ash asked Kyle, raising his voice to be heard over the roar.

“Jake set it up near the second Fire Patrol truck,” Kyle shouted back. “We’re having trouble getting enough water pressure. The lines are old. We may need a tanker.”

Ash fought a swell of frustration. The orchard’s infrastructure was not built for this. He gave a quick nod. “I’ll grab my gear. Keep me updated.”

In five quick strides, he reached the nearest Fire Patrol vehicle. The station’s lights strobed across the side, illuminating the open compartments stocked with hoses, axes, foam canisters, and protective suits. He hauled out his turnout gear and helmet.

Smoke stung his throat, and he forced himself to cough out the worst of it before tugging on his protective hood. He struggled into his heavy fire-resistant coat, gloves, and boots, snapping each buckle with an economy of motion that came from years of training.

Once dressed, he looked around for Eliana. He spotted her near a different engine, face lit by the pulsating glow of the emergency lights. She had her phone in one hand. Ash’s chest clenched with worry, but he had no time to linger. The orchard was at stake, and he was in charge.

He sprinted to the command area Kyle had mentioned. Two brush trucks and a standard engine were parked at angles, their crew members unspooling hoses. Jake stood by a portable floodlight, scanning a map of the orchard taped to the hood of the brush truck. His face was coated with sweat and soot, and he acknowledged Ash with a brief nod.

“Ash,” Jake said, his voice gravelly from shouting over the blaze, “the fire started near the fence line again. The back buildings are gone. We need a direct line to the orchard rows or this could spread.”

Ash’s gut twisted. He studied the partial map. The orchard hydrants had low pressure. The slope was uneven, making it hard for larger trucks to position themselves for direct water attack. If the wind turned, the flames could jump the orchard rows. He felt the press of time.

“Alright,” he said. “We’ll cut around the outbuildings from the west side. Send a line to the slope to keep it from creeping deeper into the forest. If we have enough foam, start dousing the orchard’s perimeter so embers don’t catch the trees.”

Jake nodded, scribbling notes. “We could use help pulling lines. We’re short-handed.”

Ash turned to see some of his off-duty crew arriving, hauling gear out of personal vehicles. They had come as soon as they heard. Relief flickered through him. They would need every available hand. “Good,” Ash said. “Let’s tackle the outbuildings first, keep the orchard safe, then push back the forest line. Be mindful of the changing wind.”

He heard an ominous crack behind them and spun, eyes darting to where a massive pine tree swayed, its trunk partially scorched. The flames gnawed at its base, sending showers of sparks into the air. Ash felt a surge of urgency.

“I’ll head over,” he told Jake. “Coordinate from here. Radio me if you see a shift in wind or if water supply changes.”

Jake saluted with two fingers. “Got it.”

Ash jogged to where the pine threatened to topple. Two firefighters aimed a hose at the lower trunk, but the angle was poor. Another was trying to break off limbs with a pole, in hopes of minimizing the risk.

The air was thick with the stench of burning sap. Ash stepped in, directing them to reposition so the water could hit the flames from a better angle. The heat pressed on him like a physical force, sweat trickling down his temples under his hood.

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