Page 127 of Steel

She pulled her arm free, ready to spew whatever she needed to say when her beam caught something. “Wait. Look right there.”

Lunging forward, I grabbed whatever it was from off the ground. “Is this Damon’s?”

“Yes. Damon. Damon!”

A sound caught our attention. I threw up my hand, listening. A popping sound. Then voices.

Then I could swear I heard something else, as if a can being kicked.

And a cry.

Not an adult cry, but one coming from a child.

“Follow me. Do not go anywhere.” We both took off running with me clearing the way as best as I could. it didn’t take long for an orange glow to cover the horizon.

“Damon. Damon!” Violet yelled. “Where are you, baby? Talk to me.”

“Mom. Mom! Mom!”

Terror filled his voice.

When I noticed flames, I pushed her back. “No. You are not going any further.”

“Yes, I am.” She struggled, fighting me with everything she had. “He’s hurt. He’s hurt.”

“Let me get him. Calm down. Okay?”

“Steel. You have to. Please.”

“I will.”

I should have known what she’d do. As soon as I backed away, getting ready to save him, she took off around me, sprinting toward the fire.

We both broke through the bank of trees at the same times. Flames were licking up several trees, the stench indicating it had been started by gasoline. Within seconds, it was a wall of flames.

“No!” she screamed.

“Mom!”

He was directly behind the wall. The fire was now following the line of trees and even worse, he was pinned in on one side by theriver. With the rate of the increase of the flames, he had maybe two minutes before the fire reached him. If he jumped into the river from where he was, he would die.

I dropped the bag and the dart gun, debating the idea of going in after Damon. There was no other choice if the child was going to live.

“He didn’t start this fire. I know he didn’t. That’s not my son,” she exclaimed. “He wouldn’t have.”

I moved in front of her, keeping as calm a voice as was possible. “No, he didn’t do this. I don’t care about the evidence. I think he heard something. But let’s worry about that later.”

“Please. Let me go.”

“Stop it. Now. I don’t have time to argue with you,” I gritted out with both hands on her shoulders. “I need to save his life. But you cannot move. Do you hear me?” She was staring at the fire. “Do you?”

“Yes. I hear you. I won’t move.”

“Alright. I got this. Okay? Just keep everyone back. Don’t let them follow me.” With limited resources and people, the rescue was going to be dicey as hell, but there was no choice. “Give me the blanket we brought.”

“That won’t save you.”

“It’s what smokejumpers use for protection. The fire-retardant material should work.” It should work. I kept repeating the thought.