Firestorm - Ellie Masters Page 0,23
a little kick of my feet, trying to spur him forward.
He twists his neck and gives me a disparaging look.
“Giddy up?”
“Quiet, little backpack.” Hooking his arms around my legs, he shifts me to a better position and tightens the ropes. I give a little screech as the rope digs into my butt. “That’s better.”
“Better? It’s a little…um, tight.”
“All the better to tie you to me, the tighter the better.”
My heart about gives out.
“How about you tell me what happened,” he says, “while I figure out how to get you to the medivac helicopter.”
“The what?” His words sink in. “I don’t need that.”
“You were knocked out. Whether from a concussion, or smoke inhalation, or both, you need to be checked out by a doctor.”
“I hate doctors.”
“And I hate forest fires, but we do what we need to do.”
With that, Asher is off.
He sets a grueling pace, half jogging, half walking, down the ravine. The light of his headlamp shows the way, and after a few minutes all I hear is the chugging of his breath.
The contraption he fit me in does a surprisingly great job of keeping me steady. Occasionally, he wraps his hands around my legs, but for the most part, he appears oblivious to the fact I’m on his back.
Despite the rugged terrain, I’m not concerned about falling, or whether the shifting of my body will off-balance him. The man is a machine, muscles powering through the climb out of the hills. For me, it would be a challenging hike. For him, it’s effortless.
Every now and then, his radio squawks and he answers. Smokey, who I assume is his crew boss, gives updates on the fire. It’s spilling downhill and growing. An orange glow lights up the night sky, but in the ravine, we’re left in darkness and shadow.
When the ravine opens up, we travel faster. Asher lopes into a run, unaffected by the burden he carries.
I keep silent, not wanting to break his intense concentration. I’m fully aware he’s running with a hundred and twenty pounds strapped to his back. The trees thin and we enter a clearing where a waiting helicopter sits on the ground.
A man with a flight helmet lifts his hand over his head and calls out. “Hey, Ace! Took your damn sweet time.”
“Fuck off, Grayson.” Asher comes to a stop and lowers himself to a knee. Without preamble, he works to free the knots. Looking over his shoulder, he speaks to me for the first time since we set off. “Steady yourself on my shoulder and put your good foot down. Grayson’s team will help you from here.”
“You’re—not—coming?” I’ve done nothing but ride Asher, so why am I the one out of breath? As for Grayson’s team, I don’t know these people, and while I don’t know Asher either, we share a connection. I know I’m not making that up.
“Sorry, little backpack, I need to get back to my crew.”
“You’re rejoining them?” I glance up the hill where the blaze is easy to see. We traveled so far. He’s got at least a mile, or two, hike to get back up there. I feel guilty wanting to keep him with me. I understand he has a job to do, but I feel safer with him by my side.
The pilot saunters over with his team. They’ve broken out a gurney and set it next to the helicopter. Two of them come to me and help to steady me while Asher finishes untying me.
“Only you would go in to a fire and come out with a woman on your back.” The pilot flashes a wide smile. The flight helmet covers most of his face, but I can tell he’s arrestingly handsome as well. It makes me wonder what they have in the water around these parts. Are all the men insanely gorgeous?
“Watch it, Grayson,” Asher says, a low warning tone in his voice, but it’s not real. I sense these men are friends.
The pilot shifts his attention to me. “Name’s Grayson Malone and I’ll be your ride from here on out, although my helicopter may not be as exciting as getting strapped to Ace’s back here.”
“I’m warning you.” Asher finally releases me and quickly turns around to lift me to my good foot.
Malone’s team is on me, touching me, pulling me away from Asher. He seems unwilling to let me go, but Malone’s team takes over.
They bombard me with questions, shine lights in my eyes, and do a quick pat down of my body. One of