She was going to have to make a decision. Leave the pick-up point where she knew Buzz could find her. Or head south, away from the leading edge of the fire. If she stayed and the fire was moving as quickly as she suspected, Kelly risked being overcome by flames and smoke. If she headed south, however, she risked Buzz not being able to find her.
Studying the roiling black cloud of smoke to the north, Kelly figured her options were quickly dwindling. Deep down inside she knew what she had to do. The thought of moving on terrified her. But the thought of staying—and risking being burned to death—frightened her even more.
“Okay, so we move,” she said, trying not to notice the high, tight pitch of her voice as she started an easy pace down the very same trail she and Buzz and Eddie had hiked the day before. Her throat burned, but she wasn’t sure if it was from screaming or the smoke. She moved swiftly down the path, setting a rhythm, her hiking boots striking the earth solidly. Fear spurred her on, and she used it to energize her tired body. She felt the press of panic, but refused to let it take hold. The most important thing was that her son was safe, she thought. She knew Buzz and the rest of the RMSAR team would be out looking for her. That was enough, she realized, knowing the best of the best were out there, knowing they would find her.
The irony of the situation didn’t elude her. Buzz’s need for adrenaline and danger had always been a point of contention between them. She’d had to rely on those very same skills to save her son, and now her own life.
The realization sent a pang of regret through her gut, like a knife slicing clean through her. She told herself it didn’t hurt, that she’d come to terms with spending the rest of her life without him. That she hadn’t been wrong. That she didn’t love him.
“I don’t, damn you,” she panted as she put one foot in front of the other and ran for her life.
I love you.
Buzz’s words rang inside her head, echoing in her heart like a lonely cry in the night. The image of the way he’d looked at her when he said them flashed through her mind. He wasn’t a sensitive man; he was hard and uncompromising and rarely revealed his feelings. She told herself he’d said those words in the heat of the moment, a moment when they’d been at their most vulnerable. A moment when their emotions had been running high, their bodies running hot. It had been a long time for both of them. They’d made a mistake. That was all.
But Kelly also knew Buzz Malone never said anything he didn’t mean. That reality frightened her more than any fire.
She couldn’t let this change anything. She had the job of her dreams waiting for her in Tahoe. The kind of life she always wanted. She and Eddie would buy a little house there. In another year he would start school. She would make a home for them in Tahoe. A home where Eddie would be secure and she wouldn’t lie awake nights wondering if the phone was going to ring and she would be told the man she loved was gone forever.
Closing her eyes against the slash of pain she couldn’t allow herself to feel, Kelly continued down the path at a fast clip. She was breathing hard from the exertion of her pace. Sweat cooled her back. She could see the ash floating down all around her like snow. Certain she’d made some headway, she slowed her pace, then stopped to catch her breath. Her muscles already felt jittery, but she felt sure she probably had a very long way to go. Better not to exhaust herself right off the bat.
She walked over to a gnarled juniper and sat down, then looked up. Her entire body jolted when she saw that the sky had gone as black as night. The smoke had thickened in the last minutes and rolled down the mountain like a black avalanche.
She sat there, frozen, her pulse pounding, a jumble of emotions roiling inside her head. She stared at the sky, awed and terrified and oddly calm. Hope jumped through her when in the distance, she thought she heard the rumble of a chopper. Getting quickly to her feet, she cocked her head and listened. Sure enough, a low rumble sounded.
She glanced up at the treetops and desperately wished for a flare. The trees were so thick that even if a chopper flew directly overhead, the spotter might miss her. Realizing she might not have much time before the chopper made a pass, she quickly worked off her jacket. Looking wildly around, she spotted a long, narrow branch. She snatched it up off the ground and tied her jacket around the end so that it formed a makeshift flag.
Feeling diminutively better now that she had somewhat of a plan in place, she stood still and listened for the chopper. Around her the pulse of the forest had changed. No birds sang. She could see the treetops moving, but the rhythm was frantic, like nervous, harried fingers. Even the ground beneath her seemed to tremble.