Page 16 of Smokin' Situation

“When did they set up the barricades?”

“Not sure, but dad called and said they closed the road out of town north around eight when he was out checking the cabin. So maybe a few hours before that?” She shrugged, picking up her tablet to resume sketching while I started to internally freak out.

Reese had been on a twelve-hour shift that started at four yesterday, which meant she would have headed home just after four in the morning. She wouldn’t have known about the fire, and if the emergency crews set up the barriers after she’d already been through, she was at home asleep, with her phone turned off, wearing earplugs and completely oblivious to the fact that she was in a mandatory wildfire evacuation zone.

Pressing the icon in my contact favorites, I dialed her number, my stomach sinking as it went to voicemail after a few rings.

“Are my keys up here?”

“They should be in your purse. Hudson said they left them in there after they brought you up last night. Your truck is out back.”

“Can you tell him I’m gonna take tonight off if you don’t need me to run the bar?”

I wasn’t sure exactly where I was going, but I couldn’t just let my sister sleep while she was in danger.

“Where are you going?” Hazel asked, looking up at me with concern. She probably should have been concerned about me, but I didn’t have time to explain to her why I couldn’t debate whether I was going to go on a misguided solo rescue mission to make sure my sister was safe.

I probably should have just called the non-emergency line and told them about Reese being home, but I couldn’t—I wouldn’t—take any chances. She was the only person I had left, and I’d never forgive myself for just sitting back and hoping that she was safe.

“Just tell Hudson I’m not gonna be here for my shift later.”

Hazel’s voice calledout after me, but I was already halfway down the stairs, and didn’t stop until I was out the back door of the bar.

Annie

Yankingopenthedriver’sside door of my truck, I hopped in, pulling hard against the strong winds to get it closed.

Navigating across the steady stream of traffic headed away from the road closures, I turned north, watching the edges of town fade away as I pressed the gas pedal, ignoring the little voice in my head that told me it was a bad idea to do this. But I wasn’t the type to just sit around and do nothing.

When I got near where the state highway forked and turned toward where the article said the road was closed, I slowed. Barricades blocked the intersection, but whoever had once monitored them was long gone. I was sure they assumed most people wouldn’t drive around a barricade. I wasn’t most people.

And I knew the alternate road where the locals turned to avoid the traffic during tourist season, which was not blocked off. Carefully turning my truck up the old road, I navigated around the potholes left behind by the spring thaw and used it to cut across to the highway on the other side of the barricade.

My pulse thrummed as I took the sharp curves on the empty road up the ridge, knowing that I was putting myself directly in the path of something I couldn’t control. And that if I got caught ignoring a mandatory evacuation, I was in deep shit. But my sister was going to be in shit so deep it’d threaten her life if she’d gone home after her shift in the middle of the night.

I should have gone home last night. I should be there right now to wake her ass up and drag her out of the house. But after weeks of insomnia fueled, broken sleep mixed with the heat exhaustion,I hadn’t even really remembered getting back to the bar last night. There was no way I would have been awake to guide Tripp to our tiny cabin off the beaten path.

We technically lived in a “neighborhood” according to the county, but the houses were far apart, and the roads were frequently inaccessible in the dead of winter because they never sent plows out here.

Coming around the bend that bordered several of the ranches north of town, I watched as a light haze of lingering smoke coming from up the mountain filled the air. I could see the road, but it just added to the level of anxiety keeping me alert. Only a few more miles and I’d be near the turn to our road, and then I could get my sister and get us the hell out of here.

The curves tightened, and I slowed my speed, only to hit the brakes hard, narrowly avoiding a splintered tree laying across the pavement. Trying not to panic, I scanned the road outside of my windows, hoping I was still far away from the fire and sheltered enough from the strong wind gusts that had knocked the tree down. My truck windows rattled as the howling wind blew smoke and ash through the air, the smell of it creeping inside the cab of the truck through the air vents.

Throwing the truck in reverse, I pulled a U-turn, heading back toward where I’d come from, trying to plot an alternate route.

“I’m fine. Everything is fine,” I murmured as I scanned the tree line for answers. And if I continued repeating that to myself aloud, then maybe I’d believe it.

The smoke that’d once been far off in the distance was now moving closer with every wind gust, and I was suddenly terrified that not only was the road blocked, but the wildfire seemed to be heading straight for my home. The same cabin where my sister was currently asleep.

Twisting my hands on the steering wheel, the leather creaked as I tried to figure out the quickest alternative to get around the downed tree. There had to be some way to get around this roadblock and the last few miles to the cabin.

Steering the truck to the shoulder, I grabbed my phone, dialing her phone number again. The sound of the continuous rings was ominous. I hated that she turned off her phone when she was working the night shift.

I knew her job as an emergency room nurse meant she had to be rested for every shift, because sometimes people’s lives depended on it, but right now I wished it was one of the rare times she forgot to put her phone on silent. I’d gladly face her wrath if it meant knowing she wasn’t in the path of a shifting wildfire.

“Come on, Reese, pick up…”

Her voice echoed over the speakerphone, telling me to leave a message and she’d get back to me, but right now I was afraid that she’d never be able to get back to me if someone didn’t warn her, she was potentially in danger.

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