“Did you see anyone push him or pull him out?”
Rego fixed on Tara, then Silva. “No.”
Tara stared at Rego as the sound of whirring rotors filled the air. He said she’d helped Hudson, not hurt him. Chalk one up for Rego. Maybe he wasn’t a loser after all.
Everyone put on their goggles as the helo prepared to land in the adjacent blackened area. The pilot hovered while Silva guided him with arm gestures to a level landing spot in the field. Rotor wash whipped ash around them.
“Okay, folks, hold up a minute.” Silva took off his yellow shirt to shield Hudson’s burn wounds the best he could from blowing ash and dirt. He looked oddly out of place in his white tee.
The pilot powered down and two paramedics jumped out, ducking below the spinning rotors. They unloaded a canvas stretcher and went to Hudson, lying on the ground.
“I’m the base camp, fire medic. Who’s in charge?” asked the woman paramedic with a purple ponytail.
Silva spoke up. “Me. Both his legs are badly burned.” He explained what happened.
The other paramedic knelt next to Hudson. “We’ll get him onboard first and stabilize him on the flight to Fairbanks. Decent job with the first aid.” He nodded at Silva.
Purple ponytail dipped a chin at Tupa and Silva. “We’d appreciate your help.”
Silva and Tupa each took a shoulder and lifted Hudson, while the two paramedics slid the stretcher under him. The four carried Hudson to the helicopter and loaded him. The paramedics climbed onboard. As the air ambulance lifted away, Silva’s radio crackled with the pilot informing Fairbanks Memorial Hospital their ETA was forty minutes.
As Tara watched the helicopter disappear over a ridge, she sensed the shitstorm ahead when she would report Hudson. Great. He’ll get a pity party while I’m labeled a hack.
“Aurora Crew, get this ash pit fire out. Rego, set up a pump and hose lay to that small stream over there.” Silva motioned to the other side of the field where the chopper had landed. “Watch out for other ash pits, people.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” muttered Rego, unspooling the hose he’d tied to his fire pack.
Tupa and the Afi Slayers helped Rego, and soon they’d extinguished all coals in the ashpit.
The exhausted crew resumed hiking, more wary, but eager to get back to food and rest.
Hudson’s accusation unnerved Tara. Was he sick and twisted enough to deliberately jump into a burning ash pit so he could accuse her of pushing him in? Even if he fell in by accident how could he have the presence of mind to accuse her?
She wished HR would have been there this morning.
What a flipping hot mess.
Chapter 30
Ryan helped the first load of eight jumpers suit up and gear up, then he and Gunnar loaded the para-cargo boxes on the plane.
Once the jumpers were on board, Ryan closed the door and signaled an all clear to the twin-engine, C-23 Sherpa. The pilot acknowledged and the plane taxied to the runway for takeoff.
His duties done for now, Mel could fly Ryan up to fire base camp to tell Tara about McGuire. He opened his locker and donned a clean yellow Nomex shirt, hardhat and gloves, then strolled to the helicopter hangar.
Mel rubbed the windshield of N74 Juliet, one of the busiest helicopters for shuttling fire managers. He raised his head in greeting. “Hey buddy.”
“Decent weather today, at least.” Ryan opened the passenger door and lifted himself into the seat. He buckled in and eased on the white helmet with a built-in headset, snapped his chin strap, and centered the hot mic in front of his lips.
“Winds are behaving for now but a large front moves in tomorrow.” Mel opened the pilot door and climbed in. He tucked his cleaning cloth in a pocket on the side of his seat. He slipped on his helmet, buckled in, and fired up the engine. As rotors turned, Ryan waited for Mel to finish his pre-flight check.
“You’re my eyes on starboard.” Mel’s voice fed into his ears.
“Aren’t I always?”
“I don’t know now that you’re all moosey-eyed these days. Gunns says you’re in love.” Mel powered the engine and smiled at the windshield. “But then I already knew that.”
“Ha, so Gunns ratted me out. Next time we jump, I’m pushing his ass out first.” Though Ryan joked, he had a tremendous longing to take Tara in his arms, to fill the aching emptiness that only she could fill. He could not remember ever feeling this way about a woman.
Mel flipped switches on the instrument panel and lifted Juliet, heading southeast to the base camp, thirty-five air miles.
Ryan checked his watch. ETA in twenty minutes. He scanned airspace out of habit, as if he were piloting.
Earlier that morning, he called the Missoula Smokejumper base for an update on Travis McGuire. Since the Forest Service was still investigating, their spokesperson could only say his chutes hadn’t opened correctly. Ryan had also contacted the Shackelford Fire Incident Commander, Dave Doss, to find out when Aurora Crew would return to base camp for the evening. He told Dave he had an urgent message for a firefighter concerning a death notification.
“How long will this take? I can wait at the helispot until someone needs to land.” Mel flicked his finger at a stubborn compass needle and frowned. “Got to fix this damn thing.”
“Half hour, tops.”
“If they kick me out, I’ll let you know. Got your B.K.?” Mel glanced at him.
“Yup.” Ryan tapped fingers and thumb on his radio as he eyed the base camp helispot up ahead on a low-elevation bench.
Mel skirted the treetops for the last mile and lowered Juliet to the helispot, slowing the rotors.
“You’re a good man.” Mel reached for a clipboard and glanced up. “Gunns was right. Either you’re in love or you’ve turned into a regular gentleman.”
Ryan gave him a close-mouthed grin. “See you in a few.” He got out and moved below the twirling rotors. First, he’d check in with the IC. He
