about to go up in flames.
“As in fire.”
Then she smelled it, too. Looking out across the grassy field to the sumac-covered hills in the distance, she saw it. Thick black smoke, roiling up to the sky.
Wildfire.
Gasping, she shoved aside the front flap of the shelter and scrambled out, dragging her pack along behind her. Luke winced as he rose from his cramped position.
Resisting the urge to panic, she strapped on her pack and studied the landscape, assessing the greatest opportunity for escape. She couldn’t see the flames but knew they were just beyond the trail. Santa Ana winds blew west, away from the desert and toward the coast. They couldn’t go uphill, and they couldn’t go back the way they came. The best course of action would be to head for the tenajas and hope the fire didn’t reach them first.
“This way,” she said, grabbing his arm.
The streambed leading to the tenajas was in the direction of the smoke, so he balked. “Shouldn’t we go the other way?”
“We can’t outrun a fire by going uphill. It could overcome us in minutes.”
He hesitated, instinct warring with logic.
“Trust me,” she said, pulling him along.
The next few moments took on a surreal, dreamlike quality. The flames were approaching fast, eating up the thick underbrush and igniting dry branches, throwing sparks and black wind in every direction. The Santa Anas might be blowing west, but a large fire created its own weather, and this one was all over the place.
By the time they reached the streambed, the flames burned frighteningly close. If they didn’t make it to the tenajas before the fire, they could take cover in the shallow creek, but with the heavy foliage along the bank, that would be a hot, dangerous option.
Knowing they were in serious trouble, she quickened the pace as much as she dared, hopping over boulders and trudging through the ankle-high water. Her boots became wet and heavy with mud. Branches struck her across the face.
She stumbled, losing her footing on the slippery rocks, and went down hard on one knee. Pain radiated through her, slamming all the way up to her hip. Luke crouched beside her. She could see flames reflected in his dark eyes.
“I’m okay,” she said, struggling for breath.
“I’ll carry you.”
“No.” Allowing him to help her up, she let him support her on one side and kept moving, ignoring the pain. The fire was advancing quickly now, jumping the creek, surrounding them. If they didn’t hurry, a bum knee would be the least of her problems.
The largest pool was the closest, less than a quarter mile down the streambed. It took an eternity to get there. The force of the heat was intense, whipping at her clothes, burning her eyes and nose and lungs. Her skin felt raw from exposure. When they finally reached the edge of the falls, Shay didn’t take off her boots or throw aside her pack before she jumped in, and Luke was right there beside her.
The water was cold. Shockingly, blessedly cold. And deep. The pool embraced her like a lover, inviting her stay a little longer, to sink down a little farther, to immerse herself in the safety of its sweet, dark depths.
Luke’s arm snaked around her waist, jerking her up. They broke through the surface, panting, staring, wide- eyed. All around them, fire blazed.
“We’ll die in here,” he gasped, releasing her to tread water.
She wasn’t sure they wouldn’t, so she didn’t respond. The flames roared. Hot ash rained down on top of the water, singeing and sizzling.
Cursing, Luke shrugged out of his pack. Mutely, she slipped hers off her shoulders and let him take it from her. She watched while he found a place under the water where his feet could touch, stared at him while he removed his uniform shirt, eyes blinking, mind blank. He made a tent with it and gestured for her to take shelter underneath. She did, holding on to his bare shoulders, feeling his strength.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded and buried her face in the hollow of his throat, tightening her grip on him, never wanting to let him go. She felt the need to cry but couldn’t. He tucked his shirt around their heads and they stayed that way, shivering with cold and stunned into silence, until the danger passed.
When they came out from beneath his shirt, the world was black.
It wasn’t yet dusk but clouds of smoke and heavy ash occluded the sun like a solar eclipse. The air was thick with the smell of burning sage, oak, and mesquite. Everywhere she looked she saw a blanket of ash. Charred branches and smoldering tree trunks were all that was left. An eerie gray light cast their shapes into stark relief like a photo negative.
In less than a week, green shoots would sprout from black soot, nature reinventing itself, but for now, the sky was dark and the landscape barren.
Shay shuddered in Luke’s arms.
“Your lips are blue,” he said, studying her cautiously.
She was cold. So was he. Beneath her fingertips, his shoulders were like chilled granite. Her own body felt limp, bloodless. When he released her, she thought she might float away.
“You’re in shock,” he accused.
Normally that kind of insult would have riled her up. Now the liveliest response she could muster was a yawn.
Muttering Dylan’s favorite curse word, Luke put his shirt back on, leaving it unbuttoned, and treaded water, searching the perimeter of the pool for a way out. This particular tenaja was called the Devil’s Cup, and it was basically a giant bowl of granite with smooth, high sides. After a lone explorer drowned here more than fifty years ago, hand-and footholds had been notched into the stone. Luke found them with no help from her. Then he dragged her over there and made her go up first.
Her wet fingers couldn’t seem to find purchase on the slippery rock, and her legs were all but useless. “Hmm,” she said. “Maybe we will die in here.”
“I don’t think so,” he replied, sounding mad. Covering her hands with his, he forced her to get a grip. Literally. Then he gave her bottom a hard push and insinuated his shoulder underneath it, using his body to keep hers from sliding back down. It was awkward and undignified, but with Luke’s help, Shay made it up.
He heaved himself over the edge as well, and they both lay there, panting from exertion.
After a few moments, she realized he was waiting for her lead. He didn’t know where they were or how to get out of here. The fire wouldn’t come back to a burned-out area, but that didn’t mean they were in the clear. They were cold and wet, and dark was fast approaching.
“How’s your knee?”
“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “My whole body is numb.” Experimenting, she bent both legs, feeling a dull throb in the left one. She touched it and didn’t find any broken bones or loose parts. It was only a little swollen. Maybe the cold water had helped.
“There’s a cave near here,” she said, her brain kicking back into gear. “I think I can make it that far.”
His eyes narrowed. “A cave?”
“Not a lion cave,” she said, stifling a hysterical giggle. “It’s a sacred site, actually. Petroglyphs and stuff.” There might be drinking water there, too. The site was little known and seldom visited, but Shay had stashed some supplies there herself six months ago. From the Santa Ana Mountains to the Anza-Borrego Desert, there was only this desolate, treacherous stretch of land, and hikers got lost in the area occasionally.
“Do you want to rest?” he asked.
“No. We need to get moving.”
Nodding, he gathered up their packs. Shay put all of the essentials in one, the last of their drinking water, a first aid kit, and a couple of energy bars. The tranquilizer guns were wet and the cell phones out of range, but she added them anyway.
He took the pack away from her and helped her up. She tested her knee, putting weight on it gingerly. It didn’t feel good, but it didn’t buckle, either.
“I can carry you,” he said again.
