Firestorm - Ellie Masters Page 0,16

he sees.

“Whoever it was…” He gives a sharp shake of his head. “They went over, that’s for damn sure.” He examines the scree. “I don’t see any tracks.”

“You think they ran over?” I turn to him, remembering what he said about the space between the prints. “Not up or down the trail?”

“The tracks say they went over.” Smokey runs a filthy hand through his smoky-gray hair. He leans out a little, but it doesn’t help. The look on his face reveals his frustration.

We don’t have time for a rescue, but we’ll do whatever’s required to save a human life, which also means the two of us aren’t supporting the fire-line.

I’m taller than him, but those few inches don’t help me to make out any sign of someone climbing down.

“Maybe they headed up?” He glances over his shoulder where the trail heads further up the ridge. He’s mulling through the options like me.

“How would they breathe? If the fire started here, and we have every reason to believe it did, the smoke would’ve been blinding—suffocating.”

“Good point.” He calls in a status update.

I’ve lost my bet with Cosmo. He’s nearly finished with his second fifty yards. The rest of the team calls in with similar results. I’m the only one slacking, but it’s for a good reason. There may be a life at risk. We can’t ignore the possibility this person is still alive.

Smokey drops the rope coiled over his shoulder and shakes it out. He gestures over the edge. “I’ll belay you. See if you can make anything out, but don’t dick around. Get in and get out.”

“On it.” I don’t need to be told twice. Getting down will be a piece of cake, but I’m not looking forward to climbing back out.

As he sets an anchor to belay me, I check my harness and loop into the rope with a figure-8 carabiner. On his signal, I head over the edge. It’s steep, and while I could scrabble down, it’s more efficient to rappel down the line in long, smooth bounces. I slowly place weight on the line, letting Smokey brace himself. He’ll mind the line as I head down.

Ten feet down, a fresh gouge tells a horrifying story.

“Someone fell, that’s for sure.” I radio back to Smokey.

“What do you see?”

“Huge gouge in the scree scraped down to soil.” I glance over my shoulder, making sure not to twist too far around and lose my footing. “Broken branches. Uprooted an entire bush” Several actually. “Whoever went over had a rough go of it.”

I bounce down the steep slope, using my quads to push outward while letting the rope slide through my hands as I drop quickly down.

“It wasn’t controlled.” I keep a running commentary for Smokey’s benefit.

The fall looks freakishly severe and I have the sinking suspicion I’m on a body recovery mission instead of a rescue. However, there’s no body at the bottom.

“Ace, what’s going on down there? I feel slack on the rope.”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m at the bottom. No body.” I see little in the growing gloom.

The glow of the fire on the ridge made it seem as if it’s midday. With the blaze hidden by the ridge above, it’s dark. I flick on my headlamp and peer around. Smoke drifts in faint curtains, wandering aimlessly down the ravine.

“I’m getting off the rope to look around.” I call up to him.

“Okay, I’m going to pull it up and finish up with the others. Keep me posted, and don’t waste time.”

“That’s the plan.”

Smokey isn’t happy splitting me up from the team, but it’s not like we don’t do that when the situation demands it. I’m in agreement about one thing. I’m not shooting the shit down here and have little interest in spending more time than required.

There’s no body at the base of the slope. Whoever fell, moved away from here. I do a quick check in a wide perimeter. Bodies can bounce. Then I see an irregularity in the soil. A long scrape, as if something dragged across the soil. I bend down to investigate.

Whoever fell, survived. Unfortunately, they’re on the move, but they’re injured. I follow the tracks to the base of several boulders and scrunch my brows when I see a pair of boots sticking out from beneath the rocks.

I’m reminded of a scene from the Wizard of Oz, except instead of a house that dropped on a witch, I have a collection of boulders piled on top of a body. There’s no way they fell on