Page 132 of Wild Card
The engine hums and my seat shakes as I fly low over the burning brush and glowing embers. I see the blue tin roof that adorns Clyde’s small log house, and I sit forward in myseat, pressing the plane faster to catch sight of it as quickly as possible.
It appears that much of what surrounds Clyde’s home has been burned to a crisp. The earth scorched black. The trees reduced to ash…but not his house. The yard surrounding it has miraculously held the fire line.
My limbs feel like lead and I find myself praying for another miracle. Eyes scanning frantically, fingers gripped tight.
I draw closer, and I see it.
Her truck.
Nausea twists in my gut and I have to fight the urge to throw myself from this plane just to get to her.What was she thinking?
I drop lower, hoping to catch sight of her, wanting to both shake her and hold her tight in equal parts.
I take one pass over the house, realizing that the opposite side is not as severely burned. It appears the area around the creek off toward the back of his property has been less affected.
Then I catch sight of her—a flash of silvery-blond hair pulled up in a high ponytail. I turn hard, looping back around to circle the property, and based on the way she holds a hand up to her forehead, I know she sees me.
Relief and dread hit me all at once. I found her. But she’s closed in. The property is surrounded by flames on all sides.
Frantically, I search the area, wondering if there’s somewhere I can land. I want to go down there and pull her out myself, but it’s futile and I know it. It’s too densely forested. There’s nowhere for me to put a plane down here.
Picking up my radio, I call for backup. I share my coordinates and let the guys know there’s a civilian trapped on an evacuated property.
Within seconds, I get confirmation that aerial support is on its way.
I start laying out a plan for how to have her make an exit from the property. The radio confirms that they’ll be ready to send a rescue vehicle past the blockade and up in that direction. As long as there’s a clear path, they will go in and escort her down.
As I watch the markers for other planes approaching on the radar, I push away the fear coursing through my veins and all the worst-case scenarios playing through my head.
If they need a clear path to get her out, I’ll make one myself.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
GWEN
After a long and anxiety-inducing night spent with no cell phone connection and an out-of-control wildfire blocking my escape, I take a break from berating myself for being so impulsive and emotionally charged to gaze at the aircraft above me.
Hope courses through me. Like jumping into cool water on a hot day. It soothes, it refreshes, it makes tears leap to my eyes.
“Bash,” I murmur, holding a hand to my forehead and watching the plane with a provincial logo flying low overhead.
The relief I feel at the sight of what I justknowis him is monumental and unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
After loading up my truck with every remotely sentimental thing I could find, I spent the entire night adjusting sprinklers and hoses around Clyde’s property in a desperate attempt to save his home.
I figured the trees were basically kindling after the dry spring, but the grass was just as dehydrated. Until I got to soaking it.
At some point, I discovered that if Ihadto make my escape, I could leave down the creek on foot and it would take me in the opposite direction of the fire. It would be risky, though. Phone service is out and I have no idea where I’m going and all thatwould have to change is the direction of the wind…then I’d have a monster of a wildfire pursuing me.
When I attempted driving back down the road that leads here, I found the fire was encroaching on both sides. I realized that if I hit a dead end or a downed tree, I could be stuck in a much more compromising position than I already was.
Ultimately, after weighing my options, I employed the method for if you get separated from your parent in the grocery store.
Stay where you are.
So I sat in my truck, tried to meditate, and failed. I thought about Bash, about our dispute and the tense note we left things on. It made me realize how inconsequential all of that felt in the face of something this terrifying.
I don’t want to say those disagreements don’t matter. It’s just that they feel a lot less important when you’re faced with the possibility of dying and leaving the man you love behind.
