Page 148 of The Fire Line

There was no point arguing. The deputy had given Harris information; Harris needed the land to confirm it before he abandoned their second exit.

They left the horses next to the trailer and took the truck down the eastern service road. Fencing flashed past on either side as the land dropped toward the drainage. The stock road eventually met a Forest Service route and, several miles beyond that, another county road. Under ordinary conditions it was rough but usable. Ordinary conditions had vanished sometime in the past half hour.

Jay had traveled the first section before. He barely recognized it now. Smoke had settled into the lowest ground, swallowing the drainage so completely that the road ended inside a dark gray wall. Trees became uncertain shadows, appearing for seconds before the wind covered them again.

Harris stopped with the engine running and stared ahead. At first, his eyes searched for a route through. Then they stopped searching and began confirming that none existed.

Eventually, he shifted into reverse.

“How bad?” Jay asked.

Harris kept his attention on the mirrors while backing along the narrow road.

“Harris.”

His jaw tightened. “Bad.”

Jay went still. Harris never said bad. Equipment was worn or about to become expensive. Weather was coming in. A horse was unsound. A situation required attention. Bad meant the useful distinctions had run out.

By the time they reached the barn again, ash moved across the yard in pale flecks. Harris shut off the engine but stayed behind the wheel, looking first at the trailer and then toward the mountains north of the ranch.

Jay followed his attention to North Ridge.

They had ridden through that country together weeks earlier: the spring, the old homestead, the lookout, and the line cabin. Beyond the ridge, an old Forest Service road descended through the eastern drainage. It was rough, but it was the only direction not already blocked.

“No,” Jay said.

Harris looked over. “No what?”

“You’re making the face.”

“What face?”

“The one where you’re about to say something extremely cowboy.”

Harris got out and began untying the horses from the side of the trailer. “We’re ridin’ out.”

Jay stared at him. “There it is.”

Jay looked from the horses to North Ridge. “How far?”

“Other side of the ridge. Forest Service road drops into the next drainage. If the fire hasn’t crossed it, we get out east.”

Jay caught the qualification. “If.”

Harris met his eyes. “Yup.”

No reassurance followed. They had one possible route, and it might already be gone.

Harris took a handheld radio and first-aid pouch from behind the truck seat. Jay found two bottles of water and put one in each saddlebag.

“That’s all the water?”

“Yup.”

“Comforting.”

“We’re not camping.”