The volunteers were working in this smoke, trying to save a town that wasn’t their own—and they weren’t getting paid for it. Marc had to admire their spirit of service, even if he thought they were a little crazy.
And what exactly areyoudoing here, Hunter?
That was different. He was here for Rossiter.
That’s when he saw it—a glowing ember. It drifted to the ground like a snowflake from hell, landed on the sidewalk, and went black.
Darcangelo walked over, looked outside, too. “Embers.”
Herrera joined them at the door. “The fire’s got to be close now.”
A burst of static.
Megs hurried over to the radio, listened to a rush of radio traffic. “This is it.”
They walked outside all together and stood looking up at the wall of black smoke rising over Dead Man’s Hill above town.
If the backburn worked, it would halt the flaming front in its tracks. If it didn’t, the fire would start backing down the hillside, and Scarlet would be doomed.
Megs pointed to the small fires on the mountainside beneath the ridge. “The fire is already spotting.”
“That’s it then.” Nicole looked like she might cry. “Even with the backburn, they can’t stop it now.”
Megs slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t say that yet.”
A Sikorsky S-64 Skycrane rose off the reservoir and moved in on the spot fires, dousing one as another flared up. Then it turned its nose westward and disappeared.
“Where the hell is he going?” Creed pointed to their left. “The reservoir is that way.”
Then a roar shocked the air. It wasn’t coming from the fire.
“Look!” Sasha pointed to the east, eyes wide.
Marc stared. “Holy fucking shit. How…?”
A 747 Supertanker tore up the canyon, flying so close to the rooftops of Scarlet Springs that it looked like it was going to slam into the mountainside.
Well, that explained why the Skycrane had disappeared.
The supertanker banked, hugging the contour of the slope, a seemingly unending stream of orange slurry leaving its hold, blanketing the spot fires on the mountainside and the top of Dead Man’s Hill. Then it gained altitude and disappeared to the south.
Marc found himself shouting and cheering with Darcangelo and everyone else.
“Way to go, Sheridan,” Darcangelo said.
“I’m going to buy that man a drink.” Marc shot Sheridan a quick text to thank him.
But the fire wasn’t out.
On the mountainside, a few spot fires still burned, and on the ridge above town…
Cheers faded to silence, everyone looking to the west, embers falling like a rain of fire, thick, dark smoke churning skyward.
Marc found himself holding his breath, time measured in heartbeats.
A wall of flame at least a hundred feet high flared up—and disappeared.
Again, Marc stared. “They did it.”