Firestorm - Ellie Masters Page 0,9

a long time since we’ve all been in the same place, and I miss my brothers more than I’m willing to admit. With Brody living in the city, and Cage gallivanting around the globe, home feels lonely.

I field a few calls from my foreman, George, managing operations from my phone. The work never stops. Then, I clear the dinner dishes while Brody and Cage take up stations at the sink. They do the dishes while I head into the living room.

“You seem distracted.” My mother places her hand on my arm. “And you’ve lost your smile.”

“My smile is fine.”

“Is it?”

She wants to talk about Erin and make sure my heart is on the mend. I want to forget all of it and have been successful in avoiding that topic all day.

“I need to take this.” I lift my phone. There’s no one calling, but that’s not the point. I need a moment away from the memories my mom won’t let me forget.

When I step outside, the sun is down and woodsmoke curls in the air. I pinch my brows together and look around. It’s the end of the summer, dry season in California, and we’re on a burn ban.

A tendril of smoke lifts off the hill behind my mother’s cottage and a shiver worms its way down my spine. I dial my longtime friend Grady Malone. He’s a firefighter in our hometown just down the road.

He picks up on the first ring. “Hey, Ace, what’s up?”

“Are you guys doing any controlled burns?”

“Not that I know of.” Concern edges Grady’s voice. I’m not one to call out of the blue. “Why?”

“I’ve got smoke on the hill behind my mother’s house.”

“Campfire?” There are primitive permits issued by the federal and state park services. It could be a camper setting a fire for the night, but I shake my head.

“No, the column of smoke is too thick. I think we have a problem.”

“I’ll call it in.” Grady is a firefighter in Sunnyville, and I’m part of a tight crew of wildland firefighters. Most are volunteers like myself, and we provide manpower for the initial-attack on wildland fires across the nation. It’s one of the things I do when not trying to manage the family business.

There’s no time to dick around. I call in the fire, knowing Grady is doing the same. All my gear is at home. I need to report to our staging area as quickly as possible, but first, I need to evacuate my mother. The winds are shifting, which means fire is coming down that hill.

4

Evelyn

My head throbs with skull-crushing pain, and it’s hot, seriously hot. Awareness returns as acrid smoke fills my nostrils. Slowly, I raise my hand, or try to, but it doesn’t move. There’s tremendous pressure on my shoulders, and that’s when I realize my hands are bound behind my back. When I open my eyes, gray fog surrounds me.

Not fog.

There’s crackling all around me, a ruddy glow, and intense heat against my face. I blink against the caustic smoke and suck it into my lungs. This makes me cough until I feel as if I’ll hack up a lung. Flames surround me and panic sets in.

I flop on the ground, struggling to get up, but with my arms tied behind my back, that’s not easy. I make it to my knees and gag against the thick smoke.

I’m alone.

Vulnerable.

Scared.

And in terrible danger.

Most of the smoke heads up, but some of it swirls down where it lingers along the ground hugging burning bushes and rolling over rocks. It fills my mouth with the sharp, caustic taste of burning wood. My eyes sting and tears run down my cheeks. Everything is blurry. I cough against the irritating smoke, but there’s no getting away from it and it’s worse now that I’m on my knees.

Flames crackle and pop all around me, devouring the dry scrub as it licks along bone dry limbs, crisps leaves to ash, and obliterates parched grass. The heat is unbearable.

I don’t know where I am and it’s hard to see. I suck in a scalding breath and peer through the smoke.

I’m in the middle of the primitive campsite, next to the fire ring. It’s the only reason I’m alive. For about twenty feet all around me, the ground is clear of vegetation, which gives me a fighting chance.

But not with my hands tied behind my back.

I’m in full on panic mode, but there’s a small part of my brain which slows down. It’s thinking, solving problems,