Wildfire at Dawn (11 page)

There was a long silence. She began counting her own heartbeats and passed twenty so quickly that she stopped counting.

“We’re trying to find you,” Johnny called back. “Could you do me a favor? Transmit a count to thirty nice and slow. Start now.”

His request didn’t make a lot of sense, but she did as he asked. While she was counting aloud, she assessed the group. The tourists were still thinking this was all a part of a good story for them to tell at home. None of them were aware of how uneasy their mounts were becoming. The horses’ nostrils and ears were working hard, but it also meant that the horses weren’t trying to grab every passing berry bush so their inexperienced riders were actually having an easier time of it.

Then she heard it. A small engine circling overhead. She tried to catch a glimpse of it. It sounded like a small and quiet lawnmower, not a helicopter. Through a gap in the trees she spotted a flicker of a black shape against the sky.

Laura knew it instantly. It was the same type of drone her father built up in Hood River. She’d forgotten about that first meal with Johnny and her parents. He’d called over a couple who then talked to her father about using drones on wildfires. MHA had one of her father’s special drones. It must be homing in on her radio signal.

Near the end of her count, it flashed by close above her. It might have even waggled its wings before disappearing from view behind a tree.

# # #

“The fire’s wrong,” Carly said it softly, but with no question in her voice as Laura’s count was coming in over the radio and Steve was doing whatever he did with radio signals to pinpoint their location.

Akbar looked at it again. The smoke was billowing up, indicating that the winds weren’t too turbulent yet. The fire itself was traveling upslope which was natural, especially in the light wind conditions.

Crap! It was burning upslope…from several areas of the mountain’s flank all at once. They were actually separate blazes in the process of joining into a single fire as they moved upslope ready to sweep over the mountain’s flank. There were only two ways to start a fire like this one.

A campfire, cigarette butt, and most other human causes that accounted for eighty percent of all wildfires had a single point of origin. A multi-point origin could be caused by a lightning strike. He glanced up at the cloudless blue sky as Laura finished her count.

“Okay, we have you,” he had to work hard to keep his voice calm as he answered her. “Give us a sec.” He clicked off the radio.

The second way to get a wildfire with a multi-point origin was human caused. Intentionally human caused. Arson.

Steve zoomed in the view. He’d flipped to infrared to show the seven tightly clustered heat dots of tourists on horseback deep in the trees.

“This is the Skyline Trail,” Steve overlaid the line on the map. The line passed right through the clustered group continuing side to side across the mountain’s flank, dipping into canyons and climbing over ridges.

Akbar took one look at Henderson then keyed the microphone.

“Laura?”

“Yes, Johnny?”

“Listen carefully. This is really important. Do
not
move from where you are. No matter what, you stay by that creek. We’re coming to get you.”

He heaved the mike aside and sprinted back around the bunkhouse to roust his crew. The others followed close on his heels. He did his best to not think about the image on the screen.

Where it climbed out of Zigzag Canyon in either direction, the Pacific Crest Trail was already on fire atop the ridges. And a new fire was starting the long crawl up the center of the canyon.

Chapter 9

Laura had everybody dismount.
It had taken almost fifteen minutes for the drone to find them from when she’d first placed the call. Fifteen more and she’d have a bunch of tourists bucked to the ground.

“Okay everybody, listen up.” Laura wished Johnny had explained what was going on, but he hadn’t. And his voice had done its dead calm, soothing thing that he did so well. And, quite frankly, that was really, really freaking her out at the moment. But the tourists didn’t know that. Johnny was being very smart. As usual.

“We’re going to wait here for a bit.”

“It’s getting kind of smoky.” “Aren’t we going back to the Lodge?” “Can we—”

She raised her hands to stop all of the questions. She took a deep breath and pulled out her best trail-guide-serious tone, rather than the trail-guide-upbeat one she’d been attempting to maintain.

“We have been asked by a team of wildland firefighters to remain in our current position. Did anyone notice the small drone that flew overhead?”

Some had. Some hadn’t.

“They have a much better idea of what’s going around us that we possibly could. They’re the very best.”

It was the pre-med student daughter who put it together first. “This isn’t some campfire that we’re smelling? This is a…” she swallowed hard and then whispered it, “…a forest fire?”

The tension in the group ratcheted up about ten levels.

“I’d say that’s a real possibility.” So this is how Johnny did it. She could feel the change inside herself. Over the years she’d dealt with injuries, frostbite, hunger, snakebites, and a hundred other emergencies. She’d never dealt with a forest fire. Yet she’d found a place inside her that could remain the calm center no matter what she was feeling.

That’s how Johnny fought forest fires no matter how he’d been feeling over the last month. And that’s how he’d gone so long without speaking to her. His fear was locked tightly deep inside and—at least to everyone else in the world—he appeared calm and in control.

It wasn’t a lesson she particularly wanted to have at the moment, but for now she’d latch onto it and hope she was alive in the morning to figure out how to help.

“What we’re going to do is remain calm.”

“Remain calm?!” One of the newlyweds was not impressed with the idea. Gus, one of the guys.

“Yes. For two reasons. One is that if we panic, then the horses will panic. In this terrain that would be very dangerous for the horses and possibly for us as well.” Zigzag Canyon led up between steep rocky walls until it hit the Zigzag Glacier. Any horse attempting to climb off the trail was bound to break a leg. And heading down the canyon… Well, she’d wager that wasn’t a good idea at the moment or Johnny wouldn’t have been so worried.

“The second reason,” she said in as calm a voice as possible, “is that the person who told us to stay put is the very best smokejumper in the business. His own team calls him Akbar the Great because he really is that great against fire. I would trust his advice over anyone’s on the planet.”

That did the job. At least for now. The group was calming down.

Laura glanced at the thin strip of blue showing above the trees, then quickly turned her attention back to the circle of expectant faces hoping none of them looked up.

“Now what we have to do is keep the horses calm, because they don’t understand why we’re merely standing here when they think we should be running. I want everyone to take out those Timberline Lodge t-shirts I handed out this morning. I’ll get you new ones. Tuck them into the top of the horses’ bridles so that it covers their eyes and most of their nose, but not their nostrils.”

“What they can’t see won’t hurt them?” The mom found her sense of humor. Laura could hug the woman.

“Right.” She considered tying the horses together into a train, but decided against it. If they did have to run for it and one was injured, Laura didn’t want to risk losing all the others.

She did her best to keep the group busy at tending the horses so that she wouldn’t have to think too much.

When no one was watching, she stole another glance skyward. Her thin strip of blue hope high above the trees was turning ash and smoke gray.

# # #

The fire was so close and the need so urgent, they didn’t bother with the parachutes or the planes. Akbar had his crews fully geared up and on the Firehawk and one of the 212s in under five minutes. Emily and Jeannie had them aloft by five minutes and one second. Six more minutes to reach the canyon at full throttle. Eleven minutes. Eleven of the slowest minutes in his life.

He dragged on a headset and spoke into the microphone on the air attack frequency. There had been fifteen of the twenty-four smokies at the camp, so they were split five and ten between the choppers. Vern was already loading up the rest of the smokies into the other 212 medium-lift Huey helicopter. Jeannie patched Akbar through to Emily’s bird where he knew Krista would be repeating his instructions to the larger team as he said them.

“We’re going in helitack. Everyone make sure your descenders are properly attached on your own harness and your buddy’s.” He screamed silently at his desperation to rush even faster to Laura’s side, but kept his voice steady.

Evans, the backender who climbed aboard to assist Jeannie, rigged rope lines to extender arms that slid out the top of the cargo bay door. They were little more than a bar with a steel loop on the end. A line tied to the loop would dangle a foot beyond the cargo bay door—easy to reach and pull aboard to run through the descender device attached to each smokie’s harness. Evans would throw a line out either side of the cargo bay when they were over the drop site.

The crew checked their descenders and gathered their gear. They’d be going in heavy with chainsaws, axes, and pumps. He wanted to throw the whole team into the canyon. He wanted to build a wall of smokies around Laura. But that wasn’t the right answer.

“Krista, your crew goes in on the top of the ridge to the east. Ox, Chas, and Patrick are going onto the ridge to the west. The rest of the smokies coming in Vern’s bird will join you in a few minutes. Tim, you’re down in the canyon with me.”

“There it is,” Jeannie whispered over the intercom.

Akbar leaned out the open cargo bay door to see. The fire was building. The flames were no longer down in the undergrowth, they were starting to snap into the air above the treetops. He did his best to visualize the points of origin so that he could estimate the fire’s path of travel. All he could see was the clump of trees where Laura must be trapped.

There were many situations that a firefighter didn’t want to get into. One of the most dangerous was in between two heads of running fire. There was a desire to get between them so that you could fight the battle on two fronts from a single position. But it was one of the most dangerous mistakes you could make because there could be no escape route if the two heads merged.

That’s where Laura and her people were.

“Okay,” he returned his attention to the attack plan. “This is an extract.” The safest method would be to take down harnesses and lift the tourists out on winches. But because of the depth of the canyon and the height of the surrounding trees, the choppers would have to stay at least eighty feet in the air. Probably three minutes per winch run: lower the wire to the ground, get the tourist snapped in, winched up, and back off the cable once inside the chopper. Seven people, twenty-one minutes. Wasn’t going to work.

“Rig more lines, Evans. Be sure to stagger-step the lengths. We’re going short-haul.”

“Akbar,” Jeannie spoke up, “with tourists? You can’t do that.”

“Burnover of their position is under thirty minutes. If you have a better idea, I’m open to it.” That came out far harsher than he intended. “Sorry, Jeannie. Let’s drop Ox and his crew first.”

He could hear her reluctant consent even though she didn’t say a word. And she was right, they were right out on the edge of the safety envelope, which was never a good idea.

“Okay people. Let’s keep our heads about us. We’re the MHA smokies. We’re chill, we’re good, and we get it done. Number one priority is safety. I don’t want so much as a broken fingernail on this one. We clear on that, Krista?”

“Up yours, Akbar,” was her friendly reply over the radio.

“Let’s do it!”

Jeannie pulled them to halt. Out the cargo bay window, he could barely see Emily on the far side of the canyon through the smoke haze. Tiny black dots began dropping down lines too thin to see at this distance. They looked as if they were falling, but not gaining speed.
Smooth and steady, team!
he sent the thought to follow them down.

With the ease of long practice, his own crew was also dropping rapidly. One by one the smokies reached out to grab the rope hanging from just above the door. They pulled it in, slipped the rope into their descender brake, and a buddy would double-check it. Then they’d move to sit on the edge of the cargo bay decking with their feet dangling over thin air. With a final check by Tim, they’d lean out letting the line take their weight, dangle for a moment, and then slide downward out of sight. The next one moved into position in the door and began preparing to do the same as soon as their teammate hit the ground and got off the rope.

When there were only the two of them left, Jeannie began moving the chopper down into the canyon. Evans had snapped pairs of harnesses onto the ends of the ropes and now tossed the ends out the doors.

Before they descended into the haze, Akbar saw the smaller choppers arrive and Henderson’s Incident Command plane appeared high overhead. They’d know to protect the group down in the canyon first and then worry about the fire’s spread second.

He snapped his descender brake onto the line and waited for Jeannie to get them in position over Laura’s group. Tim readied himself on the other side of the cargo bay. They’d go out opposite doors together.

Tim reached across to lay a hand on Akbar’s shoulder. Whether it was to communicate encouragement or to keep Akbar in place until Jeannie was fully positioned, he wasn’t sure.

# # #

Laura had heard the arrival of the choppers, practically holding her breath for the two minutes they were maneuvering above but still out of sight.

The horses were actively snorting, but the t-shirt blinds were sufficient so far. The tourists were starting to look really worried. It wasn’t quite time to dampen cloths for the humans to breathe through, but it was close. She’d been on the verge of having to knock down one of the guys to keep him from bolting up the trail. The need had been allayed when the canyon filled with the unmistakable pounding sound of a heavy chopper moving into position above them.

She looked up and saw a pair of smokies were sliding down the ropes. Despite their full gear, their contrast in height made it clear that it was Johnny and Tim. She actually cried out in relief.

In moments Johnny was on the ground and in her arms. Helmet, fire clothes, axe, harness…she didn’t care. He felt wonderful, for the single moment she allowed herself to hang onto him.

“Good to see you, Space Ace.”

“Good to see you, Fire Boy.” She did her best not to weep, though she could feel the tears running hot down her cheeks.

Johnny turned to the tourists after offering her one of his encouraging smiles. “Well folks, we’re going to send you on an adventure that none of you had expected today. Today you get to do something that few people ever do outside of wildland firefighters.”

Laura tried to figure out what he was talking about so cheerfully. He made it sound like a carnival ride. Then she glanced up at the still-hovering helicopter and the four lines dangling down to the ground and swallowed hard. It wouldn’t be dangerous if Johnny was having them do it. Correction, it wouldn’t be more dangerous than the alternative. Based on the increasing thickness of the approaching smoke, the alternative was coming quickly.

“I see you each have a small personal pack on your horses. I’d like you to take those and put them on. Please make sure anything important isn’t somewhere else, like I see a camera dangling from one of the saddle horns. Do put your camera in your bag; you’ll be needing both hands.”

Laura helped them get their gear. She also looped each horse’s reins through a saddle ring of one of the others. She put Mister Ed at the front of the line, all of the horses trusted him and would probably follow where he led, and Mickey Brown Eyes at the rear was her Mr. Stability anchor. Even now Mickey was the calmest of them all. Some said he was lazy; but Laura knew he was smart enough to not waste energy on getting upset over your average tourist—or major forest fire.

Tim was getting each of the tourists fitted with a harness as Johnny herded them along. He was having them step into the two leg holes, slide the harness up, and then cinch the belt. The two ends of the belt were then snapped into the D-ring at the end of the line dangling from the chopper above.

“Keep both of your hands on the rope the whole time,” she could hear Tim whisper to each one, placing the rope in their hands.

“No one afraid of heights, are they?” Johnny made it a casual joke, but continued before anyone could do more than smile at his tone. No time to protest or speak. “What you’re going to be doing is called a short-haul. We don’t have the ability to lift you each into the helicopter above, but we want to get you out of all this smoke as quickly as possible. So, once you are all in your harnesses and we’ve checked you for safety, we’re going to lift you straight up.” He pointed upward.

Laura looked up at the still motionless helicopter, the black paint and red flames looking a little unnerving wreathed in smoke.

“Your airline hostess for the day is named Jeannie Clark and is one of the best helitack pilots ever born. She’s going to fly you to the Lodge and set you down pretty as can be in the meadow there. She’ll be going slowly, so it will be about a ten-minute flight. Once you’re on the ground—not before that please,” again that perfect joking tone, “unsnap your harness and step to the side so that she can see you’re clear.”

Tim had Laura halfway into a harness before she understood what was happening.