Page 108 of Ablaze

It’s hard to tell how long we’ll be here, given how unpredictable the fire has been–due in large part to the weather, wind, and the dry conditions–but if it continues like this for even a couple more days, I’m not sure how many of us will make it through the exhaustion alone.

It doesn’t help that we’ve barely seen the sun with how deep we are in the woods and the amount of ash floating over us, veiling the sky like black plume.

Today, Malcolm and I are split off from Rohan, who is taking on a larger fire even deeper in the woods, while Malcolm and I are assigned to the cluster fires at the edges. I try not to think about the fact that I don’t have eyes on him, reassuring myself that we’re all supposed to stay close together, and that if, God forbid, anything happens, he’ll have help near him fast.

But, fuck, if something happens to him . . .

A couple of guys cough behind me, and I take my hard hat off, shoving the sweat at my hairline back into my hair before putting it back on, the warm breeze doing nothing to cool my skin.

“You boys,” McAdams points to me, Malcolm, and the guys standing next to him, “head west toward the spot fires starting up over the hills. There are a bunch of evacuated structures and homes there, so carry another hose line up.”

We do as he asks, jumping into action to climb the hill while carrying the hose with us. It’s not an easy feat, given the rough terrain, the heated wind blowing almost toward us, and the fact that we’re carrying all our own equipment and pulling the hose toward the blazes.

“Fuck!” Malcolm grumbles, almost losing his footing on the ashy soil behind me. He rights himself, but his voice grates like sandpaper from all the smoke he’s inhaled over the course of the past few days. “This is insane. Never seen a fire this bad.”

“Just think,” I venture, hoping the change in topic will keep us optimistic, “by this time next week, we’ll be home. Maybe even watching a movie at one of our houses.”

Malcolm huffs. “Yeah, my house, so I get to choose the movie. Fuck if I’ll watch some sappy shit your girl seems to love to pick.”

My lips twitch as I shove a low-hanging branch, working my way past it. “I think she just likes to see you cry like a little girl.”

“Shut up, jackass. Pretty sure I saw you tearing up too when Sam had to go into the light. That entire movie was totally unnecessary. Shit like that doesn’t happen in real life–people speaking from beyond the grave. Ridiculous.”

I look over my shoulder with a smile, seeing the rest of the guys behind us. “So ridiculous it had you weeping.”

Malcolm gives me the middle finger, making me chuckle harder.

With my breathing heavy–the scent of charred wood and burning soil flooding my senses–and my muscles straining, I focus on getting over the last part of the hill, seeing what McAdams was referring to. Fires burn the various structures–homes and small shops–at the edge of the wooded areas, threatening to ignite the trees behind them, if they haven’t already.

Malcolm wheezes behind me, and I study him with concern. “You okay, brother?”

He lifts his chin. “Never better. Let’s get this shit over with.”

His response might sound sarcastic, but I know it’s as much to ward me off my concerns as it is to keep us moving forward. We’re all tired, all ready to get home to our loved ones and our own beds, but our number one concern is saving lives and smothering this motherfucking fire, and none of us are ready to throw in the towel yet.

I point toward the guys behind Malcolm. “You three head toward the shopping structure over there. Malcolm and I will put out the fire in these two houses.”

The guys nod in understanding before shuffling toward the shopping structure fire.

I look over my shoulder as an air tanker releases red fire retardant over the trees, my thoughts going back to Rohan. I know I shouldn’t be thinking about what it would do to Mala if something were to happen to him, but I am.

Just the thought of seeing her lose anything more . . . I can’t even fucking bear it.

I’ve only had a chance to talk to her for a minute here or there since the signal is so shitty up here, but hearing her voice for those mere few seconds is enough to keep me going.

She’s been so fucking strong and positive. Telling me to focus on being safe and coming home to her in one piece. Reminding me how much she loves me . . .

And fuck if that isn’t a bittersweet pill to swallow. Fuck if that doesn’t make my anxiety spike.

What if this ends badly?

Swallowing the anxiety emboldening in my chest, I rush toward the burning home in front of us, with Malcolm at my tail. Even in what should be broad daylight, the smoke and fire around the structures are so thick, it’s like we’re under the curtain of night.

We start by hosing down the roaring fire around the fence, sending billows of black smoke into the sky before we douse out the outside of the front-facing wall. Once we have a path cleared, I tell Malcolm to head toward the entrance before I follow him in. I switch positions with Malcolm, leading the charge as we drench the entryway and walls, then make our way up the stairs as fast as we can.

Between the two of us, we work fast to snuff the fire, checking each of the rooms before we head to the next house.

I call in through the radio, letting the others know that Malcolm and I are heading to the next house, but just looking at it from here, I can tell the fire is going to be worse than it was in the first house.

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