Chapter 2 - Devastation
Dusty raced across the sky like the literal horses of the Apocalypse were on his tail. He was pretty slagging sure that people the Propwash Junction were going to kill him when he arrived to inform them that not only had he destroyed the Corn Festival…but he was also bringing a boatload of guests to live at the town for an indefinite period of time.
At the moment the racer's only saving grace was his brand-new gearbox. It allowed him to slice the nation into little sprints and while he was flying a sprint, Dusty could focus exclusively on making his best speed. But the fact he was going to have to have the face the music when he arrived was always on the back of his head. On some level, he deeply regrated making the suggestions. While he had grown to love the Piston Peaks Air Attack Team over the last couple of weeks, they were still relative strangers…relative strangers who had saved his life more than once, but still relative strangers. And now he was letting those strangers into the protective embrace of his home…something he hadn't even done for some of his closest friends on the racing circuit.
Dusty breathed to steady his nerves. Yes, every single room at the Fly Inn was currently booked, but Dusty had friends in Propwash Junction and if he asked nicely enough, he was pretty sure that he could convince them to let a couple vehicles crash in their living rooms until this whole problem was resolved. It was a lie that the racer kept telling himself as he crossed the wide expanse of the Rocky Mountains…and even then, he knew it was a lie because if training at Piston Peak had taught him nothing else it was nothing was simple when smokejumpers were involved.
Jammer had never been a vehicle that was quick to anger…but at this point, he would happily drop his predecessor in a lake. He would even laugh as the SUV drowned because of the sheer amount of suffering that man's ego had caused. And that suffering was just deepening as Jammer and his people were fighting to stabilize a park that had been burnt nearly beyond recognition.
"Are you okay?" Roberta, one of his longest-serving interpretive rangers, asked as she pushed a mug of hot coffee towards him.
"No." Jammer replied without any same. He took a long sip of coffee allowing the bitter brew to help center his nerves before he spoke again. "No, but I probably don't have time to deal with that right now." He looked up at his old friend. "Have we managed to find housing for everyone yet?"
Roberta looked at him with sad eyes and sadly gestured no. "We are putting up a lot of the staff and families in the lodge, but as you know that really isn't a long-term solution."
Jammer nodded. It had been a miracle that they hadn't lost anyone. A big part of that had been because Roberta had arranged for the children of staff to participate in a camping trip out of the park during the Lodge dedication so that the parents would have one less thing to stress about. She had done it because everyone knew Cad would be breathing down their necks and trying to squeeze every hour, he could out of them. But Jammer shuttered to think about what would have happened if children would have been in the ranger housing when the firestorm hit. He doubted that the teens babysitting them would have been able to get all of the younger vehicles out in time and those that were unable to escape would have burned right along with all of the homes that had been lost.
The new superintendent had been there when many of the families had started shifting through the rubble of their homes, and while most of the parents' expressed gratitude to Jammer for getting everyone out in time, it was impossible for him to not hear the wail of young children whose favorite stuffed animal or beloved pet was not gone forever. The old ranger was pretty certain that those sobs and screams of despair would probably haunt him the rest of his life.
"You're going to fix this." At Roberta's words, Jammer closed his eyes and prayed that she was right because right now he was a Superintendent with key personal on administrative leave and he wasn't sure that he was going to be able to keep everything together as he fought to get them all back on their posts.
There were simply not enough hours in the day to get everything on Base's checklist done, but as their 72 hour count down drew to a close everyone was busting their afts to get it done. At this point the only vehicles that were getting anything close to a full night's sleep were Cabbie and Dipper, and that was only because they were the only two aircraft that were winging their way to Propwash Junction on under their own power.
The act of packing up their most important trinkets had been particularly gut-wrenching. Cabbie's heart had ached as he pulled down his boxes of letters, his war trinkets, his photographs. Placing them in the plastic bins that the Superintendent had found for them had a level of finality that didn't sit well with the old plane. Piston Peak Air Attack Base had been the most stable home of his life and he couldn't help but feel that the act of packing up his things was a bad omen.
The few times that Cabbie had seen Blade packing up his own personal mementos, it was clear that the helicopter was battling similar feelings. This was his own and it just felt wrong to pack up the little touches that made the space officially yours. But there simply wasn't time to dwell on that. There was simply too much to do.
It was decided that everyone's personal things would either be stored at Windlifter's or Pickle's hangars, with each vehicle taking one load to each. That way Jammer couldn't be strong-armed into opening any of the boxes for 'inspection.' That brought Cabbie a fair amount of comfort. The last thing he wanted was for someone else to be pawing through his wedding photos and precious mementos of his wife. They were his, and if they couldn't travel with him, the least he could do was make sure that they would be resting with family.
Each of the members of base burned the midnight oil finishing up their reports and then cleaning up base. Blackout made sure that anything they couldn't weren't going to be able to eat in time was either shelf-stable, cooked and eaten, cooked and frozen, or simply given away to one of the other teams on base. The other jumpers worked on sweeping out the hangars and cleaning the latrines. Everyone pitched in to make sure that the base was as clean as possible before they left, but it just felt wrong to be doing shutdown checklists at this time of year.
Then it was time to leave…time to leave their home. Cabbie could feel as tears began to prick the corner of his eyes as he loaded his smokejumpers into his hold in preparation for the long flight east. He was about to take off, when a bright yellow vehicle nervously drove onto the base's tarmac, stopping Cabbie in his tracks. Curious, Cabbie had rolled over to Pulaski and Rake. At first, the plane assumed that the structural rig had come to see them all off, but when the vehicle opened his mouth, it became clear that they weren't the only ones who had been sent adrift.
"Can…can Rake and I join you guys?"
Apparently, Pulaski had also been put on leave for his role in the fire. Jammer had assumed that the fire apparatus would have somewhere local to go, but the young vehicle had been too ashamed to admit his predicament to his parents and there was no way that he was going to fit into Rake's family home. Pulaski shifted uncomfortably, as though he thought he was once again going to be turned away…but none of the air attack team had the heart to refuse a fellow firefighter shelter. Patch had called Dusty to get permission, and soon their motley crew of adrift vehicles had two more members.
With that, Cabbie said his goodbyes, confirmed the times that he would be picking Patch and Maru up at the train station, and then took to the skies. The old plane turned his nose to the east, winging towards the unknown.
Blade had known from the very beginning that he would be the last vehicle to leave base. As a federal facility, someone had to maintain the chain of custody and formally hand over the keys. While Blade could have delegated that responsibility, the Chief wasn't willing to place that burden on someone else. He waited alone on a base that was unnervingly clean and quiet for the superintendent to arrive and formally relieve him from duty.
As he waited, Blade did his best to soak in his surroundings. Perched on the side of the mountain in an unburnt, the base was clearly a stone's throw from paradise. The fact that this was a nearly perfect day only caused the ache in Blade's engine to deepen. It was cruel that nature would insist on having such a clear blue and just enough of a breeze to make the pines softly whisper. It would have been far more appropriate for them to be storm clouds brewing on the horizon, or at least a low, endless drizzle. But mother nature didn't really care for the concerns of mortals and would happily mock Blade's misery with cheerful scenery.
When Jammer finally arrived, he was both late and out of breath, but Blade was beyond caring. The landscape itself had started to mock him and he was ready to be somewhere…anywhere else. Keys were handed over, meaningless pleasantries exchanged, and Jammer tried to apologize for something that was beyond his control. Then, with a single word, Chief Blade Ranger was relieved of duty and cut adrift.
Stripped of his responsibilities, Blade allowed his eyes to scan across the little collection of buildings that he called home and he tried to detach himself from them. He told himself that these were just buildings, and that home was really where his team was…it really didn't work, and he could feel a lump forming in his throat. He didn't have time for self-pity. He needed to move forward.
Closing his eyes, he kicked his engine into gear and took to the skies.
The look on Blade's face had nearly broken Jammer. The helicopter had done his best to keep a stiff upper lip, but it was clear that the Great Piston Peak Fire may have broken him and being put on administrative leave may have just pushed him over the edge. As the brand-new superintendent, Jammer couldn't help but wonder if he was going to have to start looking for a new fire chief in the near future, and if that happened, he feared who else on the team he was going to need to replace.
Unfortunately, Jammer didn't have time to dwell on that. He had a transportation team meeting that he needed to be to in 15 minutes and a whole crew of federal fire investigators that were supposed to arrive at the lodge in about two hours. There was so much that he needed to do, but Jammer still paused to watch as Blade. As the helicopter disappeared into the wide blue sky the ranger whispered a quick prayer for the fire chief's quick return.