The destructive power of this fire was apparent everywhere Kenzie looked. Where there had once been dense mixed-conifer forest and stands of aspen there was now only ash and charred tree trunks, wisps of smoke twisting in the wind.
“We were right here when we turned around. The entire road was engulfed.”
“You did the right thing.” Kenzie reached over, put her hand on his thigh. “If you hadn’t turned around, I’d be out here searching for you, too.”
Survivor guilt had come close to breaking Harrison after the Everest disaster. She wasn’t going to give it a second chance at him.
He looked over at her, doubt in his eyes. “If I had seen any way to reach them…”
“You would have gone after them, like you came after me in that blizzard. Trust that you did the right thing.”
The crease between his brows deepened. “Yeah.”
The sun was close to setting, the air still heavy with the scent of smoke. Not knowing where Gabe, Chaska, and the others might have run in their desperation to escape, they parked their vehicles at the entrance to the campground and stood together, surveying the destruction.
There were no buildings, no structures of any kind, no sign that a thriving kids’ camp had stood here just a handful of hours ago.
“God in heaven.” Megs stared at the desolation. “No one could have escaped this. There’s nowhere to run.”
“I was here a few weeks ago to help Chaska set up the ropes course for the kids.” Sasha wiped tears from her face. “It’s all gone—all of it.”
Her steps leaden, Kenzie went around to the back of the vehicle and opened the liftgate. “Are you ready to go to work, Gizmo?”
She tried to act like this was any other search, but her voice quavered.
Gizmo whined, sensing her despair.
She opened his crate, leashed him, and lifted him to the ground. He wasn’t a young dog any longer, and she didn’t want him to hurt himself.
She put protective booties on his paws to keep him from getting burned in case there were any hot spots out there. The people all wore fire boots for exactly that reason, and Kenzie never risked her dogs’ safety.
She led Gizmo to the edge of the camp, tried to still the thrumming of her heart. Then she knelt, petted him. “These are our friends, buddy. Help us bring them home.”
She removed the leash, stood. “Okay, Gizmo, search!”
Gizmo was off, walking back and forth, his nose guiding him.
Kenzie followed, letting him find his own way through hazardous terrain, while the others held back, not wanting to distract him.
He’d gone maybe twenty feet when he stopped, raised his head, and barked. Then he took off, running as fast as his covered paws could carry him toward the far side of the camp.
Stunned, Kenzie shouted for him, tried to get him to come back. “Gizmo!”
When that failed, she ran after him. “Gizmo! Stop!”
He ignored her, veered to the left, crossed a little creek, and sat, staring upward.
Breathing hard, Kenzie splashed her way across the creek to Gizmo’s side.
“Hey, Kenzie!”
Kenzie looked up, stared open-mouthed, blood rushing to her head. “G-Gabe?”
He was bent down, peering at her from the mouth of what looked like a little cave a hundred feet above her. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“You’re alive!” Happiness washed through her, a golden wave of joy.
“Hell, yes, we’re alive—all seven of us—and we’re hungry.”