His radio crackled. Gunnar. “Ryno, where are you?”
Heart still pounding, he retrieved his radio and keyed it. “On my way.”
Ryan hiked downhill to Gunnar and the rest of the jumpers, sawing a line in a wide swath to slow the head. It was the only thing that could prevent the fire from reaching the buildings dotting the air force base. If they couldn’t knock the fire back, he would tell Zombie to issue the mandatory evacuation order.
Ducking a red glitter-shower of spruce cones, Ryan fixed his chainsaw at the base of a spruce as swirling ash and burning debris dropped down on him.
Boone on the radio. “O’Connor, you copy?”
“Copy. Weather update?”
“Wind’s shifting to the east, toward the mountains. No threatened structures.”
Ryan peered at the fire wall running toward them. “Are you sure? If not and we back burn, we lose the base.”
Intolerable silence on the radio.
He keyed his radio and paced, eyeing the advancing fire wall. “Running out of time.”
Boone again. “Weather update said winds have shifted, blowing east, not southeast.”
“Copy, thanks.” What he wanted to hear. He keyed his radio. “Jump crew, wind shifted, back burn is a go. Move fast.” His skin heated as the head charged toward the jump crew. He gauged his escape route outside of the left flank and edged closer to it.
Ryan shoved the radio into the holster clipped to his waist belt. Priming his drip-torch, he stepped briskly across the front of the saw line, igniting parched willow and alder. Gunnar headed in the opposite direction doing the same. It took thirty minutes to light the backfire so the gusts would blow it toward the head. The convective head winds sucked in the back burn, creating a wide, black barrier next to the saw line. Ryan’s strategy worked, as intended. The runaway blaze sucked in the back burn and succumbed, like a spent dragon out of fuel.
No evacuation necessary. Ryan sighed relief.
He assessed the black swath between the jumpers and the fire’s head. After losing its fuel source, the blaze had quieted like a tamed lion. “Okay sports fans, that’s a wrap. Incident Command, she’s ready for mop-up.”
Dave Doss’s voice responded. “Copy, O’Connor. Dispatching Aurora Crew for mop-up.”
Ryan smiled into the radio. “Good choice. Appreciate a ride out of here.”
“A helo is on the way,” responded Doss. “Nice work, O’Connor. Remind me to give you a raise.”
He laughed. “You’re a stand-up guy. JIC clear.”
Exhausted, he set down his drip torch and collapsed to the black ground, staring up at cloud shapes. What did he expect after two hours of sleep last night?
Gunnar flopped next to him. “Wake me when they land.”
“That’s what I get for spending the night with a hot woman.” Ryan watched a peregrine falcon glide overhead, searching for anything the fire may have spared.
“You can say that again,” mumbled Gunnar.
“Well, at least I didn’t get eaten by a wolf. And…I think I’m in love, Gunns.”
“No shit. I was wondering when you’d get around to admitting it.”
Ryan dozed for what seemed like two seconds before the whup-whup of an incoming helicopter woke him.
Chapter 26
It was a five-mile hike from base camp to the left flank of the Shackelford Fire, where the terrain sloped gently down to the forested bottomlands. No helos were available. Aurora Crew had no choice but to hike to their work site after setting up camp. Tara didn’t mind. She had energy to burn after last night. The thought made her mouth turn up.
At a high point in a burnt clearing, Silva stopped the crew. Wisps of smoke rose from glowing embers. Tara squinted at the leading edge of the fire, about four miles away, as it chomped its way toward the air force base.
“Okay folks, this is the mop-up site for our twelve-hour shift. We’ll work in a grid, so spread out along the edge of the black. Turn the soil over to expose hot spots and squirt them with your piss-pumps. Take your gloves off to feel the ground with bare hands.”
Tara and Angela set to work on their piece of charred ground.
“Mm, love the feel of ash in the afternoon,” purred Angela, sensuously raking bare fingers through soil and ash. “This does wonders for my complexion.” She rubbed a little on her cheek.
Tara laughed. “I heard Ryan on the radio before we left. He’s with other jumpers at the head of the fire.” Tara straightened and pointed downslope to the far edge of the fire.
“Did you hear Gunnar?”
“No, only Ryan and the tanker pilot. Wish I had a radio.”
“Silva has one.” Angela cocked a brow.
“Wonder if he’d loan it to me.”
Angela laughed. “So, you can listen for your honey-bunny? Not likely. You broke Silva’s birdie-lovin’ heart.”
“Not my problem.” Tara shrugged a shoulder and pulled small binoculars from her day pack, squinting into them. “Two helos landed in the black down there and lifted off again. Can’t see much else.” She shoved her binoculars in her pack.
“You’ve been wearing that silly grin since we left AFS this morning. You’re even smiling at these confounded ashes.”
Tara was blissfully aware of a sated contentment that permeated every nucleus of every cell in her body. She squirted a hot spot with her water pump.
Silva ambled over. “Waters, doesn’t look like you got much sleep last night. Speaking of last night, O’Connor looked for you after you left Howling Dog.” He bent to cold-trail fingers through soil.
“Oh yeah?” This could get interesting.
“Did he find you?”
“Why?”
“Wondered if you got home okay.”
“Yes, I did.” She paused to sip her water canteen. Two eagles cruised above, capturing her attention. She watched them soar over the spruce and out of sight.
“I’ve known O’Connor a few years. This is my fourth season with AFS.”
“Uh-huh.” Where was he going with this?
“Watch out, he’s a wolf. I’ve seen him in action. Women won’t leave him alone and he won’t leave them alone.”
She straightened and
