Chapter Twenty: The Fire Line
With the help of a built-in GPS in the Jeep, I found my way to the area Angie and Tim lived. I knew I had to be in the right area, because of the orange glow in the sky. Choppers flew above me, heading to the fires. It was nearing midnight, but with all the firelight, it looked like dawn.
I turned down one street. Ahead, I saw a fire truck, spraying down houses that weren't yet burned. I figured they were doing this for when the fire came—maybe the homes wouldn't catch fire.
I turned left, following the little directions on the GPS. I got further from the trucks, and closer to the fire. The smoke seeped in through the air filter. I started to think I might not be able to get through, or worse, that I might just not make it at all. The smoke wasn't good for the lungs, and that's all that filled the air here.
I turned again, and headed down another street. Another five minutes, and the GPS beeped at me.
I was here.
I stared through the windshield. The fire was maybe half a mile away. I could see the tree tops burning. The wind was strong; flames whipped wildly in the air. Awed and terrified, I stepped out of the Jeep.
The heat washed over me, even from here.
"Hurry up," I told myself aloud. I swallowed, and then ran for Tim and Angie's house.
The front door was locked. They said Sam would come here, but I hoped they let the kid have a key. I rang the bell, wondering at the same time if that was ridiculous.
No one came to the door. He might be afraid. I grabbed a potted plant by the door and threw it through a decorative side window. Carefully, I reached in and unlocked the door.
The house was empty and quiet, but I could hear the burning outside.
"Sam?" I called out. I quickly went from room to room. It was a nice house, and it was a shame that it might just burn down. I went to the master bedroom. As a kid, when I got scared, that's where I went.
"Sam?" No answer. I swept through the kitchen and living room, but no one was there.
I went outside through the back door. The backyard extended into a distant treeline. The creek. Angie or Tim had said Sam went there sometimes.
I ran back to the Jeep and grabbed the little oxygen mask and tank. I threw on the fire jacket, and took off towards the backyard. I wasn't thinking, not really. If I had, I would have realized how dangerous this was. Not just for me, but if anyone came looking for me, I was just putting them in danger. The only thing that got through my thick skull was if I could really do this. Who was I to rush in like this? To try and find an 8-year-old boy? Damn my motivations—what did those matter to my ability?
I had no training. I was just a girl. Stupid girl, I reminded myself. Last time I'd helped someone (I avoided his name in my mind even), I ended up shot, roughed up, hunted, and broken-hearted.
But you saved him.
I hated it when I was right.
The backyard was edged with the wild treeline. The fire was raging to the left, but with that treeline, it would spread quickly. I ran through the trees until I came to the creek. Creek was a generous word—this was a trickle of water.
"Sam!"
I coughed. The air was like a barbeque smokehouse. I took a breath of air from the hand-held tank.
"Sam!" I turned in every direction. Nothing. I figured Sam was smart enough not to run towards the fire. Maybe he went away from it, following the creek? Either that, or he wandered into the woods more. But the fire would just feed and circle him back there.
I took my best guess and followed the creek.
I ran hard, hopping over logs and rocks. My lungs heaved harder than they should have. I had to stop and take a breath from the tank.
"Sam!" I wished I knew his last name, but it probably didn't matter. How many people named Sam were running around in the middle of a wildfire?
The creek ended after another five minutes of running. The water just went underground. Trees surrounded me. Where would he go next? Suddenly I doubted myself. Maybe he had gone to a neighbor's. Maybe someone already found him. How long should I stay out here, before I had to throw in the towel?
I looked back the way I'd come. The trees that were on fire were closer. The fire was spreading. My way out of this was back ten minutes or so, parked in the house's driveway.
"Sam!! Son of Angie and Tim!!"
And then I thought I heard something. Fire can do strange things—I remembered that from Backdraft. Thank goodness for meaningless education from modern movies. What confused me was that the sound, if it was a person, came from the left—further into the trees. I could see flames licking the sky in that direction too.
"Sam? Are you there?"
Someone screamed. It had to be a person.
I ran with all my might towards the sound.
"Keep screaming!" I said between gasps. I stopped to hear him. The sound came back in towards the fire more. Of course. I groaned, took a breath of oxygen, and ran some more.
"Sam!" I called out. The air was hotter. I was sweating in the fire jacket, but I wasn't about to take it off. Embers flew in the wind. The fire burned ahead of me by the distance of a football field, and with the wind it sounded like it was roaring, louder than ever. This is stupid! But I couldn't give up now.
Someone coughed behind me. I whirled around, and hunkered down by a rock was a small Asian boy. He coughed hard.
"Sam?" I ran to his side. He looked at me with fear and awe at the same time. "It's okay. Your parents sent me."
Sam had his arm cradled. He whimpered between words: "How do I know they did?"
Seriously?! The kid was going to question me now? I'm all for teaching kids to be cautious, but not in the middle of life-or-death situations.
"Your mom is named Angie. Your dad is Tim," I said. "You have two sisters, one younger than you and the other older."
Sam wasn't completely convinced, but he started crying.
"It's going to be okay," I said, lying because what did I know? "Let's get out of here, okay?" I reached out for him, but he drew back with a shriek. I blinked. What was wrong with this kid?
Then I saw it. His right arm was cradled because it was burnt. I saw layers of his skin showed through. I tried not to throw up.
"Okay, that's okay," I said. I was rambling. "We'll get that fixed."
Behind us, a tree exploded. I screamed and fell to my knees, over Sam. My mind flashed back to Nigeria. Were the rebels here too? An instant later, I knew it was the fire, superheating the trees. Sam wailed loud enough above the roar of the fire.
"Sam, can you walk?"
He nodded between his cries. I grabbed his left hand.
"Let's go!" I led us back the way I'd come.
The fire was closing in faster. New trees caught on fire almost as we passed them. I think I was heading back to Sam's house, but really, the fire was driving me whichever way it wanted. I just moved as fast as I could with Sam by me, whichever way that was unburnt.
Sam stumbled, crying out as he tripped to the ground.
"I want my mom!" he cried out. He cradled his arm to his chest, and then he started coughing heavily. I could hardly breathe as it was. I got out the oxygen and put it to his mouth.
"Breathe, okay?" He did. I kept my eyes on the trees, then looked ahead. The creek was there. We had to be close. I took the mask from Sam and breathed deep a few times for me. "Okay, we're going to keep going."
Sam whimpered. He was sluggish in getting to his feet. I was practically dragging him, but stopped by the creek. I dipped my hands in the water and took a sip. The water tasted bitter. I spat it out and settled for just cooling down my face. I dipped my hands in it and wiped it over Sam's face.
"Sam, are you okay?"
Sam shook his head. His lip stuck out, pouting, but I didn't doubt him. I let him breathe from the mask again, and then put the mask back over my face. I stuck the little tank in the pocket of the jacket, and then picked up Sam.
He didn't protest at all. His eyes were wide, and he just looked at me as I held him. He kept his arm cradled against his body. I started running again.
My progress was wobbly. Eight-year-olds aren't light. I kept looking down at him, making sure he was awake. I didn't know how bad the air was, but the last thing I wanted was for him to pass out.
I broke through the treeline, and seeing houses was a welcome sight. The backdoor to Sam's house was still open, where I'd checked before. I ran towards the house, grateful that we'd made it. I cut through the house and nearly collapsed.
"Sam, I have to set you down." My arms couldn't take anymore. My shoulders felt like they were going to rip out. I set Sam down on the kitchen counter.
"Where are my mom and dad?" he asked. I took off the mask so I could speak more clearly.
"They are at the stadium. They were evacuated earlier." It might have been Greek to him. I didn't take time to explain. I turned to the fridge. Inside was a carton of juice. I unscrewed the top and guzzled some straight from the carton. I saw a bottle of Gatorade in the fridge too, and unscrewed that for Sam.
"Here."
The poor kid guzzled it just as eagerly. I downed some more juice and closed the fridge.
"We have to go," I said. I held out my hand to Sam. He hopped off the counter, still shielding his right arm, and took my hand.
What greeted us outside made me stop in my tracks.
The street was on fire. Not literally, but the trees across the street had caught fire. The homes across the street were lit up. The fire had jumped here quickly. I looked down the street, which was a different way than I'd driven in. It was open, for now, but flames and embers flew around like a freak laser show.
I ran to the Jeep, pulling Sam behind me. I set him inside through the driver's side.
"Crawl over!" I yelled. I got in after him, and turned the ignition.
We sped off down the street. In my rearview mirror, flames licked everywhere I could see. I pressed harder on the gas.
And then braked hard. This was a cul-de-sac.
My eyes were wide. I flipped the car around, facing the fire. Trees were falling onto the road, and the flames reached to close up the street entirely and consume the houses on the other side. I could floor it and just try to break through the streets I'd come in on. But there were so many turns that I would have to drive through the fire at some point, multiple times. I didn't like that idea.
I could take the Jeep off-roading, into the yards and beyond. But I wasn't sure where I could go. I tapped at the GPS. It was useless for conventional directions, but I pushed a few buttons to get a broader view of where I was. There were other roads northwest of us that should be fine, I figured. I just had to get there—
Suddenly I heard that explosion again. Sam screamed. I heard the groaning of wood, and then a flash of orange and white light as a burning tree trunk fell across the road in front of us. It nicked the hood of the Jeep, jostling us inside.
"Get out, now!" I threw open the door, wincing at the heat. It was practically burning me without touching my body. I reached for Sam and held him against me. I was probably hurting his arm, but there was no time for that. I went around to the back of the Jeep and threw open the trunk. I grabbed one of the emergency kits, hoping it would have a fire blanket if we needed it, and then I ran with Sam in my arms. The flames consumed the metal and plastic of the Jeep.
I was panicking. As I ran to what I hoped was still northwest, I also hoped I would have enough air and energy to keep going. What if I didn't? What if I passed out, and Sam was left on his own? What if the fire caught up with us? I could still feel it heating my back. My arms were already tired before. Could I keep carrying Sam?
I cut through backyards, some that were on fire and others waiting in the path of the fire, which now was coming from three directions. My way out was narrowing with each second. The wind was tossing the fire to enclose us. If that happened, we wouldn't make it out.
I coughed hard. I had to stop to drain some air from the mask. I gave it to Sam, and I think he figured out himself how much better that air was for him. I picked him up again.
Something ahead sounded different. It was this hissing noise, but it wasn't like fire eating something. The houses were dark against the night sky. It was probably past 1 am now. I came around the corner of a house, glancing over my shoulder at the fire that was behind us.
"Look!" Sam said. I looked ahead.
There sat a fire truck, spraying the homes with some sort of suppressant. My eyes watered, and I don't think it was just the smoke.
"Hey!" I heard someone shout in our direction. I saw the firefighter manning the hose point at me. My knees suddenly felt weak. Wearily, relieved, I walked towards them.
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The firemen thought I was crazy, but I didn't really care. They administered some first aid to Sam's arm.
"We should get him to a hospital," one said. Another offered me some oxygen. I took it but didn't put it on yet.
"No," I said. "His family's at the stadium. Take us there first."
The firemen had other priorities, which I understood. I just ran through the fire they were sent to fight. They drove us over to a National Guard truck, this one manned by three men. They loaded us inside the truck.
Sam cuddled against me. I guess I looked less scary now compared to the guardsmen who were decked out in uniform and fire gear. His arm looked better, but mainly because it was bandaged now.
Along the way, I rested my head against the backseat. I heard the guardsmen radioing ahead. I imagined they were chatting around to COs or whatever. Maybe even to Winston, the twerp. I think I heard something about a vehicle being stolen by the stadium. I grinned.
Winston was waiting when the guardsmen pulled up. He looked ticked, but I really didn't care. I hopped out of the truck.
"Where's the Jeep?" he demanded. I chuckled and reached for Sam.
"Scrap metal now," I said. Winston's eyes went wide. "Don't worry. My taxes dollars will cover it."
I held Sam and walked towards the stadium.
Karina suddenly appeared.
"Jane!" She gasped. I must have looked fabulous. But behind her appeared Angie and Tim. When Angie and Tim came running at us, their faces relieved and full of hope as they saw Sam, it hit me what I'd done. I made it back. Somehow, I was still alive. And so was Sam.
They hugged him tight, and I didn't mind the sound of their cries. It wasn't fueled by anguish anymore. It was relief, joy, love, emotional overload.
"What were you thinking?" Karina scolded, but I wasn't listening. I shed the fire jacket and let it fall to the ground behind me. "You could have been killed!"
I've heard that before. I didn't bother to defend my reasons. I just looked back at Angie. She was holding her son, cradling him. And Sam, alive and well enough, held his mom back.
I turned back to the stadium, and nearly lost my balance. I blinked a few times, thinking the smoke was still screwing with my eyes. Someone stood there, watching me, looking over me from where he stood. The mohawk looked styled, the first time I'd really seen it that way, and those light green eyes worriedly sought mine.
I just stood there, staring at Lake.
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a/n: Thank you for all the reviews! Let me know what you think of this chapter. Just a note, I don't really know how fire protocols works, so I took some liberties—but I think the firemen and National Guard, etc. all do a great job in pulling together in cases of emergency. Don't think differently based on this chapter! Thanks:o)
