Page 76 of Falling for the Firefighter
"Then they'll adapt." She places a weathered hand over mine. "That's what we do here. We don't defeat the mountain. We learn to move with it."
Minutes stretch into hours as reports flow in from all three defensive positions. The northern gap—Mac's position—takes the brunt of the fire's initial assault. Radio reports paint a grim picture: flame heights exceeding sixty feet, wind-driven embers igniting spot fires, temperatures so extreme that equipment fails.
Yet they hold.
Through skill, determination, and the natural barrier of the ridge, Mac's team forces the fire to climb rather than advance. The central gap, under Parker and Noah's direction, establishes a secondary containment line reinforced by the only available bulldozer. The southern position, manned primarily by volunteers under Sheriff Donovan's coordination, prepares for the fire front, still hours away from their location, cutting vast swaths of firebreak as quickly as possible.
Night falls, but darkness doesn't come. The fire illuminates the sky in hellish orange, visible for miles as it consumes acre after acre of wilderness. From The Haven's elevated position, we can see the distant battle lines marked by the headlights of emergency vehicles and the rhythmic flash of warning beacons.
Scout moves restlessly between the windows and the command table, her behavior reflecting the anxiety that permeates the room. She pauses at each window to stare out at the orange glow painting the mountains, nose working as sheprocesses the complex scents of smoke and destruction carried on the night wind.
When she returns to my side, she presses against my legs with unusual intensity—not seeking comfort, but offering it. Her steady presence grounds me as we monitor the distant battle for Angel's Peak's survival.
"Command, this is Alpha Leader."Mac's voice comes through just after midnight, strained but determined."Fire has crested the ridge. Containment holding at northern position."
Relief washes through me, short-lived but powerful. "Casualties?"
"Negative. Two minor burns treated on site. All personnel accounted for."
I close my eyes briefly, offering silent gratitude to whatever forces govern such things. "Central and southern positions?"
"Central holding steady. Southern position reports fire front approaching, estimated contact within the hour."
"Copy that." I check the latest weather data. Wind is continuing to shift eastward. Central position should prepare for increased pressure on their eastern flank."
As if summoned by my warning, Parker's voice breaks through:"Command, this is Beta Leader. Wind shift confirmed. Eastern flank taking heavy ember fall. Spot fires developing behind our position."
Noah Morgan's voice follows immediately:"Requesting additional personnel to address spot fires. Main line fully committed."
Sheriff Donovan scans our resource board. "All available units already deployed. Reserve teams committed to evacuation security."
The implications settle heavily. The central position is developing into a crisis with no additional resources to address it.
"I can redirect two units from the southern position." Donovan offers. "But it leaves them critically undermanned if the fire intensifies there."
Before I can respond, Mac's voice cuts through:"Alpha Leader to Command. We're stable at northern position. I can send Rodriguez with four team members to support central."
"Negative." The refusal comes automatically. "Northern position could destabilize if the wind shifts again. You need your full complement."
"Assessment indicates northern ridge is containing primary spread as predicted."Mac's voice carries absolute certainty."Greater risk now at central position. Making the call. Rodriguez team departing for central support."
The strategic logic is sound, but fear still clutches at my chest. Weakening one position to strengthen another carries inherent risk—risk that falls squarely on Mac's shoulders.
Scout lifts her head from her position beneath the table, ears swiveling toward the radio as if she can sense the tension in Mac's voice despite the static. She moves to my side, pressing her warm body against my leg in a gesture that's become familiar during this crisis.
Her brown eyes meet mine with the same worried expression I feel—our pack leader is making dangerous decisions, and we can only wait and trust.
"Command copies." I maintain a professional tone despite the concern churning beneath. "Beta Leader, be advised: reinforcements en route from northern position."
The next hour passes in tense monitoring as the fire continues its relentless advance. The central position stabilizes with the additional personnel, managing to contain the spot fires before they develop into a secondary front. The southern position engages the fire with less intensity than predicted,the ridge's natural barrier functioning as designed to slow the blaze's momentum.
Scout's hackles rise suddenly, her body going rigid with the same alertness she shows before severe weather hits. She moves to the window, a low whine escaping her throat as she stares out at the fire-lit mountains. Her superior senses are detecting something my human awareness hasn't yet processed; a change in air pressure, a shift in the wind, or some subtle alteration that speaks of approaching catastrophe.
Maybe all three.
When she looks back at me, her brown eyes hold a warning I've learned never to ignore.
Chapter 18
