Page 145 of The Fire Line

Jay loosened the reins. Give him a direction. Let him handle his feet.

Harris glanced over, checked him once, and returned to the cattle. Under the circumstances, not being corrected qualified as praise.

They were nearly at the gate when Jay looked west and realized one of the ridges visible twenty minutes earlier had disappeared.

Not faded. Gone.

“Harris.”

“I see it.”

They got the last cattle through and closed the gate behind them.

As they rode into the yard, every phone began sounding at once. The overlapping alerts cut through engines, radios, cattle, and horses. People stopped wherever they stood and reached for their screens.

Harris pulled Rain to a halt and read his phone.

MANDATORY EVACUATION ORDER — SHAW CREEK / NORTH FORK CORRIDOR. LEAVE IMMEDIATELY.

For half a second, the ranch held perfectly still.

Then Harris put the phone away.

“Okay,” he said.

He did not shout. He did not need to. His voice crossed the yard with the same authority he used when frightened animals required one clear direction.

“Everybody out.”

24

The Last Two

“That’s enough. Pack it.”

Jay lowered his camera as another stock trailer pulled away from the barn. The ranch had gone from preparation to departure almost at once: engines starting across the yard, doors slamming, vehicles already staged toward the road moving in a rough sequence. The precautions that had seemed excessive an hour earlier were now saving minutes nobody knew how to measure.

Eli stopped recording without arguing about the light or the sequence still unfolding near the loading area. He removed the memory card and passed it to Priya, who sealed it inside a labeled case beneath her jacket.

“Camera bodies with us,” she said. “Everything else is loaded.”

Jay nodded. “Go.”

Priya looked past him toward Rain and Red, still saddled beside the barn. “You’re coming with us?”

“Harris and I have to load the last two. We’ll follow.”

Her gaze returned to his face. “Then actually follow.”

“Yes, Mom.”

The expression she gave him stopped the joke before it could help.

“Sorry. Stress response.”

“I know.” Priya tightened her grip around the card case. “Just… leave when you say you’re leaving.”

Jay had offered versions of I’ll be right behind you before and turned them into another interview, another shot, another hour of usable light. This time he held her gaze. “We load the horses and go. That’s it.”