Firestorm - Ellie Masters Page 0,17
whoever this is. I pick at the rocks covering the legs and find myself impressed.
Whoever this is, they dug a trench—a fucking trench! Then covered themselves with rocks and dirt.
I give a closer look and sure enough there’s a person crammed in the cleft between the rocks.
What the ever-loving fuck?
“Hello.” I give the legs a little wiggle.
These hills are normally peaceful places, their quiet interrupted only by the whistling of the wind through and the incessant cicadas who buzz through the night.
Tonight, quiet is not the flavor of the day. There’s no soft rustling of pine needles on a gentle breeze. No chirping of birds. No scratching in the weeds as squirrels hunt for nuts buried last fall. No cicadas droning on and on.
We’re in a pressure cooker with the wind acting as the bellows to feed the fire overhead. The roar of it sounds like a freight train barreling down on us.
Whoever this is, they aren’t answering and they’re unresponsive to me tapping on their leg.
“Hey, boss.” I call out to Smokey. “Found someone.”
“Alive?”
“Unresponsive.”
“Hurry up.” There’s strain in his voice.
“What’s wrong?”
“Wind is shifting. I want us out of here. Helo is on the way.”
Well, shit.
No more polite tapping.
I push the rock and dirt off whoever this is and try to drag them out. Only, that does me shit good. They’re some sort of contortionist because I have no fucking clue how they wedged themselves in there.
Correction, how she got in there. My hiker is a woman. Long, blonde hair spills around her face, which happens to be completely wrapped in cloth. Wet cloth.
Wet cloth? A trench? I’m seriously impressed with her survival know-how.
But, what the hell is she doing here? And is there anyone else with her? I don’t like this at all. Not with the urgency threading through Smokey’s tone. Nothing riles that old man.
Nothing to do about it, I need to extricate the woman. Unresponsive, I don’t know if it’s from injury, asphyxiation, or smoke inhalation. That fall likely gave her a concussion.
“Hey, boss?”
“Yeah? How’s it going?”
“She wedged herself between some boulders. I’m trying to get her out.”
“Still unresponsive?”
“Yeah.” I might wake her as I try to get her out from under the boulders. “We need medevac.” I’m not getting this hiker back up that steep slope, but I can carry her out. “You want to call it in?”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” I give a good long look at the thin crack she wedged herself inside.
“You get to work. We’re moving down the line. I’m not happy with the winds.”
“Gotcha.” There’s no need to ask. I know exactly what he’s worried about.
I am too.
Ravines, such as this one, have a nasty habit of turning into wind tunnels. With the fire moving down below us, there’s a very good chance we’ll be caught inside a chimney of superheated gas.
I cut the chatter and focus on the woman. If she’s unconscious due to a head injury, there’s nothing I can do about that, but if it’s smoke inhalation, fresh oxygen might rouse her enough so she can help me help her out from under the boulders.
My oxygen canister is fully charged. I pull it from my belt and contort my head and shoulders through the gap until I can fit the mask around her head.
“Miss.” Gently, I shake her as I press the mask tight to her face. “Miss, my name is Asher La Rouge and I’m here to help.” A quick check reveals she is in fact breathing.
My job is now a rescue instead of body recovery. I’ll take that any day.
Her body gives a little twitch. I gently nudge her on the shoulder and repeat myself. Most people, when they come around in unfamiliar surroundings, can be quite combative. A firm, calming tone generally works wonders. I keep repeating myself, letting her know my name and my intent.
“Miss, my name is Asher La Rouge. You fell down a ravine. I’m here to help.”
Her body convulses and a tiny cry escapes from her mouth. It’s a sign of life, and I cheer. I press against her shoulder, and repeat myself a third time.
She comes around with a screech, drawing her arms in a defensive move to cover her face.
How the hell did she manage to survive?
It’s a question I’m dying to ask, but it needs to wait. I’m very impressed by what she’s done.
Very few people survive wildfires in the open.
There are a few hard and fast rules. First, create a barrier between you and the fire, something to protect