Author's Note: So, concussions and computers are a very bad combination. I am still recovering from one so my updates will be slow, but they should be faster than they have the last couple of months. Thanks for bearing with me on that and without any further delay, let's jump back into the story.
Chapter 3- Evacuations
When Cabbie had said that there were jumpers here, he hadn't specified which smokejumpers…though the look on Dusty's face must have clearly indicated his confusion at seeing five ground pounders in various liveries. The C-119 had burst into laughter. The old plane still hadn't managed to catch his breath when Dusty spotted to familiar faces detach themselves from the swarm and head over to say hello.
"CHAMP! WE DIDN'T KNOW THAT YOU WOULD BE HERE." Avalanche grinned up at Dusty with Blackout not too far behind him."
"I didn't know I was going to be here until about four this morning." The racer couldn't help but grin back. "It is good to see you all. Where is the rest of the crew?"
"BACK IN CALIFORNIA I THINK." Avalanche shrugged his blade. "CABBIE, WHERE ARE THE REST OF THE PISTON PEAK JUMPERS?"
"Last time they called they were working a couple of fires out of LA." The plane answered off-handed as he nudged a can of low-grade oil towards Dusty.
"You guys don't always work as a team?" The SEAT asked, taking a sip.
"A SMOKEJUMPER IS A SMOKEJUMPER IN THE EYES OF THE IC." Avalanche said with pride. "RIGHT NOW THERE ARE VEHICLES FROM 3 OF THE 10 SMOKEJUMPER TEAMS IN NORTH AMERICA."
"What he isn't telling you is that you got stuck with the dregs of the barrel?" A crawl loader in orange interjected.
"The 'dregs'?" Dusty looked blankly at the little dirt movers in hopes that they would clarify the term.
"What Arlo is saying is that we have a composite jump team." Cabbie explained kindly, and when Dusty continued to give a glazed look. "When it comes to wildland firefighters, smokejumpers are as elite as they come. They are an IC's best chance for preventing a small fire in rugged terrain from blowing up into something bigger. The problem is, there are not many smokejumper teams to work with. So when we get hit by a really bad fire season they tend to get sent to the four winds. Sometimes there are enough fires that they pull a couple of members from each team and send them to become a composite team."
"Almost everyone got trained at Missoula under the same instructors, so it isn't too much of a challenge to create a new team." Arlo grinned.
"Why didn't haven't I heard of this before?"
"PROBABLY BECAUSE PISTON PEAKS AIR ATTACK TEAM WAS ALREADY CONSIDERED TO BE THE DREGS OF THE BARREL." Avalanche grinned bumping the crawler with his blade. Dusty winced, but Arlo for his part his squared his own blade and pushed back. Cabbie watched to two, then rolled his eyes. Obviously, this type of roughhousing was pretty normal.
"Well kid, I suggest that you get some sleep," Cabbie yawned, "cause we are probably going to be waking up before first light to start dumping these boys on fires."
After flying halfway across the country, Dusty thought it was a good suggestion.
The sun was getting low on the horizon when Lightning and Mater finally made it to Prescott…and while they were the motliest pair driving a herd of tractors they were far from the only ones. Entire swaths of the scrubby desert were being evacuated and the counties seat's fairgrounds were the only safe location for the herds, so stock from miles around had been driven into town and put into pens.
As Mater kept an eye on the tractors, Lightning filled out paperwork. Said paperwork too what felt like a small eternity and the sun was hanging low in the sky when they were finally able to head back. Unfortunately, the two vehicles ran into a roadblock shortly after they got onto Route 66. As car after car got sent back, Lightning and Mater inched their way to the front of the queue.
"Where are you headed?" A young looking police car asked when they arrived at the front.
"Radiator Springs." Lightning said, as though it was obvious. Because where else would the famous racer be going at this time of year, especially after dropping of a large head of tractors at an evacuation center.
"I am sorry, but there is a wildfire out there burning out of control. Right now we are trying to evacuate entire communities to keep them out of harm's way and Radiator Springs is on the evacuation list. So I can't let you pass." The police officer looked somewhat sheepishly at the race car. "My suggestion sir is to try to get a spot in a hotel room before they all fill up, and then wait. It will only be a matter of time before the rest of your town will roll in."
"Thank you for the information officer." Lightning said softly. As much as McQueen wanted to ignore the police car's instructions, the racer also knew that he was completely unequipped to face a wildfire. With a heavy heart, he turned back into town with his best friend intoe. All he could do now was pray that all of his friends would get out safely.
After Cabbie had gotten Dusty and the smokejumpers bedded down for the night, he headed back to the Incident Command center for the evening meeting. It was only a little after 10, but the base was remarkably quiet. It had been a long enough fire season that most of the airplanes tended to roust the moment as soon as the sun went down and even the smokejumpers were too tired to cause trouble. Only the command staff and the night dispatcher were moving at this time of day, and they were running on fumes and coffee.
As soon as Cabbie entered the C-119 moved to make a beeline for said coffee. Snatching to mug that he had claimed his first night on base, he filled it and headed over to the map table. Most of the command staff was already present, stifling yawns as they took a looked over the reports in front of them. They were not allowed to sit on their tires long because the Air Boss soon rolled in after he completed his last flight of the day.
"Good evening vehicles." The exhaustion could be heard in the planes, strong voice. "As you all know we have been dealing with extreme fire behavior for the last couple of days, but between the hard work of the ground and aircrews and a lot of cooperation from Mother Nature we have been able to keep the flames away from various communities. But it looks like Mother Nature has decided to be a bitch and raise her ugly head. The winds have shifted, the KBDI is letting us know that the vegetation out there is a dry as tinder, and Chrysler knows there is no way that we are going to be able to protect these small towns if the fire blows right over them."
"So what are we going to do?" A tug, one of the dispatchers, asked.
"Well," the Air Boss motioned his wing towards the map, "we choose our battles carefully. We don't have enough aircraft and there are not enough teams on the ground to stop this fire in its tracks. The winds are strong enough that the sparks would just jump the line. Instead, we are just going to have to focus on keeping evacuation paths clear, watching the backs of the men on the ground, and attempting to protect sensitive habitats and buildings of historical importance. Understood?"
There was a chorus of "Yes Sirs."
"Good, now everyone who isn't on the night shift, I want you to go hit the hay. We are going to have a series of incredibly long days and I want all of you to be as fresh as possible."
With that order the majority of vehicles filtered out of the space, leaving the night crew and a very large cargo plane behind.
"Good, Cabbie, I needed to speak to you." The Air Boss spoke and the cargo plane rolled in expecting to chat about the load of supplies he was scheduled to pick up in Los Angeles this evening. Instead, the small plane looked him levelly in the eye. "I can still send him home you know." There was no cruelty in the words; instead, Sawyer spoke with quiet honesty. "Just because your team trained him, you don't have to keep him to save face. We are short staffed, but we are not that short staffed."
Cabbie snorted into his coffee. "Sawyer, you of all planes know that I don't put up with bullshit. Dusty may be greener than a willow sapling when it comes to firefighting, but he has time flying under 500 feet than any plane I know, he has nerves of steel, and he has got a brain on him. Which is a dodge good combination if you ask me." Cabbie took a glump of the bitter, firehouse brew. "Dusty will make a good Fire Boss someday, but that is going to require some seasoning. Seasoning that requires being out on the line."
"Still, I don't like to put someone with so little experience on the point of a firestorm."
"Well, it wouldn't be his first firestorm." Cabbie gave a ruthful chuckle thinking back on the Great Piston Peak Fire. "But, I can see where you are coming from. Still, remember you are not putting him out solo. You are pairing him with an aircraft that has a legacy number."
"And you vouched for his flying." The Air Bosses propeller twitched a bit at the reminder. "So I am just going to have to trust you on this and I better let you head out and pick up the equipment we need before it gets too late." The smaller plane gave the old cargo plane a wink. "Are you sure that you don't need your spotter for your cargo flight to LA?"
"Naw, we have to let the beginners get their sleep after all." Cabbie shrugged his wings, a wicked grin on his face. "After all, Dusty will have to keep up with me all tomorrow."
Just after dark, everyone in Radiator Springs gathered at the firehouse to listen to the evening fire report. Each vehicle shifted nervously as the disembodied voice on the radio described where the wildland firefighters were already deployed and where the hotspots that the IC was watching were. Then they were given the weather report, which caused both Red and Sherriff to rock back on their wheels. There was a dry front bearing down on them and their region was given a Red Flag warning for high winds.
While the rest of the vehicles in the room didn't fully understand how dire the news about the winds was, they did understand the next piece of news. Radiator Springs was one of the towns that was ordered to evacuate. Eyes full of fear each of the vehicles turned Red for acknowledgment. Under their gaze, the fire truck recognized the full weight of his responsibility. This town trusted him with their lives.
Closing he eyes, he thought about their options. Radiator Springs didn't have the greatest evacuation; as a result it would be a grueling race against the flames to get everyone out to safety in time. But that was something that the town already knew. Even when they were dirt poor, the town had made sure that they had kept their firefighting equipment in top form. Then there was the spring. Radiator Spring was situated on a water source that wouldn't run dry regardless of how much Red pumped from it.
Red glanced over at Lizzie, had made a judgment call. It would be better to face down the flames where they had the water and infrastructure to stare down the flames instead of risking being trapped on an open stretch of road where he would have no hydrants to refill his tanks from. So as much as it pained him, the Quint made a judgment call and ignored the order to evacuate. The town of Radiator Springs was going to shelter in place.
Next Chapter- Call for Help- As the fire rapidly approaches Radiator Springs and all evacuation paths are cut off, all Red can do is call for backup.