Author's Note: Story prompt suggested by Acertainoperaphantom.
Y is for Yearning
It was just after three in the morning…the witching hour…the slagging worst time of the day to be awake. For the average vehicle, this was when the deepest level of sleep occurred. But none of the members of the Piston Peak's Smokejumper Team could ever be considered average. Especially when they were fighting a fire as intense as this one. So, they continued to bend their blades to the tasks of saving homes as the rest of the world slept.
The team had been on this fire for just over 4 days and by this point any physical reserves they had entered the fight with had been completely drained. At this moment, all they had left was a steely sense of will, instant coffee, and the desperate knowledge that if they failed people could die. At this point, the fire was strong enough that they knew that many homes would beyond saving…but they also knew that if their work slowed the approaching flames long enough, it would give their fellow firefighters and police cars time to evacuate the communities located within the path of the inferno.
The fact that the smokejumpers were still on the fire line at this time of night was a testament of their rank and experience. As night began to fall, the aircraft were grounded, and the fire began to become more erratic, the Incident Commander had pulled the Hand, Engine, and Fuel Crews from the fire line to rest for the night. This left only two hotshot crews, the Piston Peak's Smokejumpers, and a Wildland Fire module to keep eyes on the fire. It was a decision that meant ceding the high and rugged ground to the flames, but when you had limited horsepower sacrifices were always going to be needed.
So, as the night dragged on, the smokejumpers did their best to enjoy working on relatively flat ground. They worked seamlessly, letting exhaustion sharpen their focus and the coffee keep them awake. Each and every one of them were desperate to close their eyes for at least a moment, but they knew that was currently impossible. With that knowledge, they resigned themselves work their afts off and yearn for the moment when they could finally sink into the arms of Morpheus.
