Now I just had to figure out who’d had a part of two or more entirely different worlds and why. And I would because my instinct was already churning, only not about the fire.
About Grace.
Her fear had been palpable, no matter how fervently she’d tried to hide it. Somehow, someway, her arrival in town had fueled the arsonist’s anger.
Nah, I was no hero. According to the information that would remain with me until the day I died, I was a dangerous predator with a penchant for violence. My life could have gone one of two ways, a line drawn in the sand. Karma had intervened with Grace. And God help anyone who dared try to lay a hand on her.
The line still had two sides and I wouldn’t hesitate to cross back over to keep her safe.
And alive.
I’d failed once. I wouldn’t do so again.
* * *
“Goddamn this fucking weather!” Denver yelled to no one in particular, but we all heard his exclamation loud and clear.
He was right. Even near the summit of a five-thousand-foot mountain, the air was humid as fuck. Sweat was pouring down my face and back, stinging my eyes and there was no way of wiping it away.
Not when the fire threatened to switch directions.
“Keep going!” Rock called in return, before storming close to where Axe and I were positioned. “The control line needs to be wider. We need to stop this baby.”
The work was exhausting, but even after working for almost twenty-four full hours, I was still exhilarated, pumped up by adrenaline and the desire to finish.
If hungering to see my girl was a bad thing, so be it.
While Axe cut away debris, swinging the ax with utter precision, I followed behind him with my trowel, the sloppy terrain allowing for an easier, smoother line. We continued rolling parallel to an established hiking trail, hoping the small line of defense would matter.
Rock moved down the line, working with the other team members.
We worked in a pattern, the drill already one I knew well.
A full hour or more passed and even though it appeared we were succeeding, there was more smoke in the air, wet and warm.
I dared take a step away, shielding my eyes as I glanced the heavy tree line. It appeared as if acid rain was falling from the sky. Then I realized what I was looking at.
Embers.
Fuck. The wind had shifted, sending a heavy shower of bright orange embers crackling as they fell across a wide berth of the forest.
Within seconds, popping sounds pounded off close enough it drew our attention.
Every jumper moved into the clearing, watching as the leaves on dozens of trees burst into flames.
Even with the rain, there was enough brittleness that along with the wind, the flames would rush through the forest.
“Fuck. And we have a crown fire. Axe, Viper. Stay here and don’t let that fire jump the path. Everyone else, head to the trees. We can’t let this shift into a blowup. It’ll roll down the mountain like a fire devil.”
There was no time to waste. We had to put everything we had into our efforts, utilizing our training and our instincts. Mine might be a little rusty, but it was true what the experts said.
And not about riding a bike, but about the need to face the devil himself. Every firefighter of any kind desired to look the devil in the eye and crush the life out of it. That’s one reason we accepted the role and the level of danger.
More time elapsed, the air even more stagnant.
While the augmented glow indicated the sun, the direction in the sky had shifted significantly.
“Fuck,” Axe hissed as a tree suddenly fell within a few yards of where we were working.
