Page 18 of Smokin' Situation

Typing 911 into theTo:field, I hoped my message would go through.

Annie: Stranded on an abandoned road in the evacuation zone in a truck with a broken wheel axle.

In seconds, my phone vibrated in my hand, a message filling the screen.

911: This is the Chaffee County emergency services dispatch line, do you know where you are located?

Annie: The old bypass south of County Road 24.

911: Can you describe the make and model of the vehicle?

Annie: Metallic gray Ram pickup truck.

911: Who am I speaking with? And can you give a brief description of the passengers in the vehicle?

Annie: Rheyanne Thomas. I’m by myself. 31, female, long brown hair, 5’7.

911: I need you to open the map app on your phone and see if you can get enough signal to generate a location. Click on the little blue dot on the map and share it with a new text message to this number.

Following the rest of the directions from the dispatcher, I sent the message, hoping it’d go through.

911: Got your coordinates. Forwarding to emergency services. Please remain in the vehicle and keep your windows up. Is there smoke in the vicinity?

Looking out the window, I noticed a haze in the air, but I could still see the break in the trees where the road I’d been trying to get to was located.

Annie: Not as much as there was on the main road, but there’s a haze between the trees. Definitely smells like smoke, but I don’t think it’s close.

911: Turn on your emergency flashers. Keep the windows closed and set your AC to recirculate the air inside the car without pulling in air from the outside. Close as many vents as possible. If the car starts to fill with smoke, turn it off. Do you have any water or a face covering? Blankets?

Scanning the passenger seat, I spied a discarded bottle in the footwell, full of the greenish electrolyte drink Tripp had given me yesterday. He must have mixed a fresh bottle before we left the festival last night. Under the back seat, I found a blanket and another bottle of water, but nothing to cover my face with. Where were those damn Covid masks when you needed one?

Settling back into the driver’s seat, I texted them back.

Annie: Found some water and a blanket.

911: Good. Make sure your doors are all unlocked and then get down as low as you can in the rear seat of the vehicle. Wet the blanket with some water and keep it over your head if possible. Keep drinking to stay hydrated.

Following her directions, I climbed over the center console, settling on the floor in the back. I grabbed the strap of my purse from where it rested in the passenger seat and pulled it over my shoulder, tightening the strap until the small crossbody was tuckedtightly against my chest. I guess if I died in the burned-out hull of this truck, it wouldn’t matter if I was wearing underwear.

The air outside still looked hazy, and I hated I couldn’t see what was happening outside the truck from the floorboards, but I’d ignored enough safety instructions for the day, so I would do whatever they told me to.

Annie: Do you know how long it’s going to be?

911: Local search and rescue have been notified of your location. Just try to stay calm and do not leave your vehicle.

Easier said than done, but I tried to keep my breathing slow, sipping out of the bottle of electrolyte drink, wishing I could return to the previous day when my problem had only been dehydration. Now I wasn’t sure if I was going to die stuck in the backseat of my truck while my sister was asleep in a cabin a few miles away with no one to save her.

Wanting to preserve the battery in case I needed to send another message, I locked the screen and set the phone on the seat next to me, closing my eyes and praying that someone out there was on the way to get me out of my own mess. Because the last thing I wanted was to be added to the tally of Thomas’ who didn’t live to see old age. Like my parents.

Tristan

Theradioclippedtomy belt crackled, a rough transmission from the dispatch office to the emergency rigs on the far side of the ridge catching my attention.

“Be advised. Stranded motorist on old County Road 24 bypass needing immediate evacuation. Any units available to respond?”

Frowning, I tried to recall if there even was a bypass there. County Road 24 bordered the north side of the ranch, but it’d been straightened and repaved sometime in the last five years, leaving the old sections of the road cut off and abandoned. Most of which had been reclaimed by the forest, and I wasn’t even certain they were drivable.

Why in the fuck would someone be on a deserted bypass through the woods right now when it was in the middle of the mandatory evacuation zone?

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