Darcangelo nodded. “Count me in.”
“I’d be happy to help, too,” McBride said.
The offers of help didn’t ease the look of worry on Deputy Marcs’ face. “Some of the people who live up there are ‘sovereign citizens,’ which means they don’t recognize any authority beyond the county sheriff. They’re likely to meet you at the door with a shotgun—and they won’t be bluffing.”
Marc had the solution for that. “Pella can deputize us, turn us into his posse.”
Darcangelo grinned. “Trying to build up your resume, Hunter?”
Deputy Marcs was smiling now. “I’m sure Sheriff Pella would be grateful for your help. I don’t know the legal requirements for deputizing people, but he will.”
She reached for her hand mic, waited for radio traffic to clear, and then spoke with Pella, who was, indeed, grateful for the extra help. All he had to do to deputize them was to put it down in writing.
“Meet me at the parking lot of Ski Scarlet,” Pella said. “I’ll have someone get the documentation ready and email it to the mobile command center.”
They returned to the Caribou site and got into their vehicles. Ten minutes later, Marc pulled into the parking lot and got his first unobstructed look at the cloud of gray smoke. It dominated the horizon now, reaching high into the sky. “Look at that.”
“Son of a bitch.” Then Darcangelo pointed. “There’s Pella.”
They parked, climbed out, and made their way over to the sheriff, who was poring over a map with Eric Hawke and the county fire chief.
Pella looked up. “Great. Here you are. Consider yourselves deputized. Sorry, I don’t have a box of spare badges in my car. We’ve got roadblocks on all the roads leading into the evac areas. Deputy Marcs, you put them to work clearing houses.”
“You got it.”
Marc listened with the others while Deputy Marcs went over the map and briefed them. His cell phone buzzed—a message from Ramirez.
On my way up to Scarlet Springs to cover the fire. Are you up there?
Marc replied, telling Ramirez that he, Darcangelo, and McBride would be helping with evacuations.
“You paying attention, Hunter?” Darcangelo asked.
“Ramirez is on his way up.”
“Does he want to ride along with us?”
“If I were him, I’d focus on the action here. Besides, we don’t have time to wait.”
They set out, Marc and Julian in Marc’s SUV and Zach in his own, a Channel 12 news helicopter passing overhead as they headed down the mountain.
They had discussed the situation from a tactical point of view and had decided to work opposite sides of the road, Marc and Julian on one side and Zach on the other. That way, they would have immediate backup in case they met armed resistance—which was a completely fucked-up thing to worry about in the middle of a wildfire evacuation.
Then again, this was Scarlet Springs.
They passed through the roadblock and made their way toward the most distant street in the evac zone, Darcangelo holding the map and giving directions.
“There should be a right turn just ahead.”
“Are you sure you’re holding the map right side up?”
“I know how to read a map.”
Marc turned onto the road, Zach right behind them. The road was narrower than Marc had expected and heavily forested on both sides—lots of fuel for the fire. Long, narrow driveways marked with reflectors led to cabins that were built at a distance from the road. Most had NO TRESPASSING signs nailed to trees and fence posts.
Darcangelo looked around them. “Remind me not to bring the kids trick-or-treating in this neighborhood.”
“Yeah. No kidding.”