Fishing In Fire, page 12
Hunter tilted his head, confused, she guessed, and wondering why she would bring that up now. “But you looked, you know . . . I mean, it was—”
“I wore it because I wanted to impress you,” Annette said. And, tired as she was, it was a tremendous relief to admit that. “It was the fanciest dress I could find, and I thought if I wore it, I might look even a little bit pretty and—”
“Annette, you’re so beautiful.”
She stepped toward him in a rush, right under the cool rain of the little stream, and her hand touched his soft cheek and her lips pressed to his. She felt his surprised intake of breath. He took a half step back, before seeming to decide what to do. Their lips parted and they embraced, watching each other in this deep serious way she’d never known before. Then they kissed again, softer and warmer and longer this time. Annette had no idea what she was doing, but somehow she understood that was OK because Hunter didn’t either.
They parted again, breathing heavy. Her heart pounded, from something besides fear and exertion for the first time that day, from something wonderful. She’d come to the woods because she’d wanted to make a story of her own. Somehow she knew, even then, that this story she shared with Hunter would be one she remembered for a very long time.
After a moment, she became aware of glittering sparkles on the falling water around them.
She followed Hunter’s gaze across the valley to the first mountain ridge they’d crossed. There the fire devoured everything it touched and spread to burn more.
Annette touched her forehead to Hunter’s and whispered. “I read somewhere that you never forget your first kiss.” She nodded toward the inferno. “No chance I’ll ever forget this.”
“I’ve wanted to do that since this last fall when you came hunting with us,” Hunter said quietly.
“Me too,” Annette said. She could hardly believe it had really happened. She could still feel an echo of the pressure of his lips on hers. “But the fire,” she said. “We should probably—”
A loud angry curse sounded from above them. Yumi. “Higgins! Annette! Where are you! Fire’s coming! We gotta go!”
“What took you so long?” Swann demanded when Hunter and Annette finally returned to the rest of the group. “And you just filled up the one CamelBak?”
Yumi watched the two of them, soaking wet and smiling. Neither of them would meet her eyes. Yumi smiled as well. Something had happened while the two of them were away. Something big. But there was no time to talk about it now. Instead she pulled them both close and spoke quietly. “The three of us will talk later. If we don’t die.” To everyone else she shouted, “Fire’s coming. Rest time is over. If you need water, ask Hunter. Let’s move.”
Kelton groaned as he rose to his feet. “Move where?”
Yumi glanced at the fire closing in from the east, felt the wind shifting, gaining intensity, and for a moment she wasn’t sure exactly which way to go. The smoke had reduced visibility so that navigating by general compass direction and landmarks was becoming impossible. But then she saw it. She pointed toward the blood-red sun. “It’s the only thing this smoke is good for. It cuts out the view of just about everything else except . . . see? The dark outlines? Shadows of the mountain. Hard to see, but notice that dark V right there?” She pointed to the map. “What do you want to bet that is our creek valley?”
“I guess I’ll bet my life,” Hunter said.
“You bet your . . . yeah, I guess you’ll bet your life,” Yumi said. “I think we’re just about right where we’re supposed to be! Still on course!” She reached out to squeeze Annette’s hand but found it already holding Hunter’s hand.
“Oh,” Yumi said. They were in mortal danger, but she was still stunned to realize what she’d always thought would happen between Higgins and Annette had finally happened. “Right.”
“Let’s go!” McKenzie shouted.
Yumi led the way, and the group moved out. It was easy at first, but after about a minute, Kelton shouted, “Fire! There’s fire down there, too!”
In the near distance to the southwest, down in the hazy valley, were three . . . no, four . . . unmistakable white orange blobs of fire. Anyone moving slowly or half-asleep at that point jumped quickly to alertness.
“How’s that possible?” Morgan cried. “It’s not like we’ve been sitting up here forever taking a nap.”
“The fire was far away!” McKenzie protested. “It obviously hasn’t burned over us yet. How could there be fire down there?”
The group was descending into panic. Mason waved his hands over his head. “Hey. Hey!”
“Shut up!” Annette screamed. Yumi looked at her in surprise. Annette was not the sort of person she’d ever expect to try to shout everyone down, the last person she’d expect to succeed at it. “How the fire got down there doesn’t really matter now. Freaking out won’t help us. Let’s move.”
Yumi pointed toward the valley. “That fire down there is still to the south of where we have to go. It’s a race, is all. We have to win.”
CHAPTER 11
The strangest mix of emotions swirled within Annette. She shook with terror from the fire closing in on them, and yet at the same time she could not stop smiling about what had happened with Hunter. If not for the world burning up all around them, it would have been the perfect fairy-tale storybook kiss. They all hurried after Yumi like they were characters in some apocalypse movie. She laughed to herself. She’d never imagined she’d be so happy in the apocalypse.
Yumi glanced her way, dirt streaked on her forehead and cheek, sweat rolling down her face. She half smiled and rolled her eyes. “You have to stop. I’ve been telling you and Higgins to make a move for almost a year, and you pick now? We’re all going to die, and you two choose now to get together?”
Annette giggled. “I know! I’m sorry. It just kind of happened. Taking advantage of our last chance, I guess.”
“It won’t be your last chance, as long as we can find our way down off this mountain,” Yumi said.
“You know,” Annette said quietly to Yumi, “this is horrible. I’d rather we were safe at your house playing Call of Duty or that zombie game. But you’re kind of an action hero in all this. Way cooler than anyone on those games.”
Yumi shrugged away the idea. “The characters I play on my games don’t get tired. Their maps are better. And usually in the game there’s a limited area of operations.”
“Well.” Annette patted her back. It was gritty and soaked with sweat. “I’d still rather be with you.”
“Then you’re an idiot,” Yumi said. But she smiled, and slapped Annette on the shoulder. Yumi was direct and her sense of humor put some people off, but Annette was glad to count her as a friend.
Yumi cursed loud enough to be heard all the way back in McCall.
“What’s the matter?” Hunter raced ahead to catch up with her. “Are you hurt?”
Yumi held her arms out to the side, as if she were trying to form a barrier as she stepped backward, cursing again. A few paces ahead, she remained turned away from everyone, shaking, with her hands pressed to her face.
“More fire?” Swann moved closer, and put her hands on Yumi’s shoulders. Yumi shook her head, and Swann saw it. They all did. About twenty yards ahead, a wide chasm, an enormous crack in the mountain.
As they approached, they quickly saw it was way too steep and deep to climb down and back up the other side. It was about six feet across—they couldn’t jump over it. Smoke everywhere. White bits of ash falling like snow.
“It’s OK.” Swann squeezed Yumi’s shoulders. “We’ll be OK. We’ll find another way.”
Yumi shook off Swann’s hold and spun to face her. “How? Fly? We don’t have time for this! And with all this smoke, who knows how long this stupid crack goes? It’s not on the map!”
It was not only Morgan crying now. This ravine, with the fire closing in, put the dead back in dead-end.
“Oh come on, man!” Kelton shouted. “We are so screwed. For real!”
“There has to be another way,” McKenzie said. “Are you reading that map right?”
“You want the map, McKenzie?” Yumi shouted. “Take it! You lead the way. See if you can do better.”
“We don’t have time to do better!” McKenzie yelled.
The idea hit Annette hard and fast. “Hatchet!”
“My favorite book?” Hunter asked.
“Annette, this is not the time for a book talk,” McKenzie said.
Annette dropped her backpack, and felt around inside for the hatchet she’d taken from the cabin. She slipped off its leather cover and pointed the hatchet at a thick, tall dead tree standing about twenty feet from the ravine. “That’s our bridge!” Annette ran for the tree. She aimed near the bottom of the trunk and slammed the hatchet blade hard, chipping wood. “If we hurry.”
“What?” Morgan asked incredulously. “You’re a lumberjack now? It will take forever to cut that big thing down with that tiny ax.”
Annette kept chopping, as hard and fast as she could. “The wood is dead. It’ll come apart fast.” She hoped she was right.
Hunter stepped beside her. “Give it here. Let me have a crack at it.”
“I can do it,” Annette said. She had to do it. She got her friends into this deadly situation. She had to try to get them out. She swung that hatchet again and again, and the thud of the blade on wood shook through her arm. Sweat poured down her body. The world was descending into darkness as thicker smoke rolled in around them. Her shoulder ached. Her bicep burned. A flying wood chip stung her cheek. She grunted and chopped.
“Annette, you’re going to wear yourself out. Give a fresh arm a chance,” Mason said. “None of us here is tough enough to chop this thing down by ourselves.”
Finally she stopped and, without looking, held out the hatchet. Hunter grabbed it and with a primitive growl attacked the trunk.
“Let’s push it from the other side!” Kelton said. “Careful to stay out of the way of the chopping, but let’s push the tree from the other side, and we’ll knock it down faster!”
Kelton and Mason slammed their shoulders into the tree. McKenzie and Swann reached above them, hands pushing on the rough wood. Eventually they all got into a rocking movement, a series of shoves to try to get the trunk shaking back and forth.
Hunter chopped and chopped. He did look tough. But the fire grew closer. It had to be coming up their ridge by now.
Hunter handed off to Mason. He hit the tree like a maniac, winding up and twisting his whole body into hard, deep chops. After a while Kelton took a turn.
“Come on!” McKenzie cried.
“It’s not working!” Morgan said.
The tree cracked. Kelton chopped. The others pushed, and there was a loud deep crunch. The big dead trunk leaned. Kelton smiled and chopped more. “Come on! Push!”
More cracking.
“Kel, get out of the way!” Annette shouted. She reached out to push him clear, but stopped herself for fear that he’d hit her or himself with the hatchet.
With a loud series of cracks, the big trunk fell over and smashed to the ground, the top of it protruding out over the ravine.
“It’s not long enough to reach across,” Morgan said.
McKenzie pushed her filthy hair away from her face and put her hands on the tree. “Then we push it! We only have to slide it a few feet.”
“It must weigh hundreds of pounds.” Morgan leaned down to the tree.
The rest of them took positions around the trunk. Annette gripped a nub where a branch had long ago broken off, her blistered hands burning.
“OK,” Kelton said. “On three and then go, got it?”
They counted off and then with grunts and groans the whole group pushed hard. At first nothing happened. Annette adjusted her grip, dipped down lower, and dug her feet in. “Come on, everybody! We can do this! Push!”
The log moved. An inch. Two inches. Mason let loose a howl. Morgan bit her lip. Yumi pumped her legs. McKenzie cursed the log while she shoved. Three inches. The log was moving now.
“Keep pushing!” McKenzie screamed.
All of them, working together with all their strength, picked up a little momentum and a slight downslope until the far end of the log smashed into an upward-sloping rock on the far side.
Annette wanted to collapse, to rest her aching body after the frantic effort, but there was no time. “Let’s go!”
“Is it safe?” Morgan asked.
Kelton grunted as he gave the trunk a hard shake. It wiggled a little, and some loose gravel fell into the depths.
“Safer than that fire,” Annette said. She could see the orange glow rising from the east edge of the ridge. A lot of them coughed in the thick smoke, which even rolled out of this section of the crack. A peek over the edge revealed hot snakes of flame working through whatever had once grown way down there.
The group waited around for a moment, and Annette knew, somehow, they were all trying to decide who would go first. Annette was about to say something when Yumi jumped up on the log, took a deep breath, and with her arms out to her sides for balance, ran across, jumping down on the other side.
She flashed a quick smile. “Easy,” she called back.
“There’s nothing to grab on to,” Morgan objected. “And it has to be a thousand feet down.”
“Yeah, into fire,” Yumi said. “But the log is wide enough to mostly run normally. Keep moving and you’ll be fine.”
Hunter was across before Yumi was even done talking. Swann let out an excited scream as she crossed. Then went Kelton, McKenzie, and Morgan, a little more slowly. As soon as she hesitated, Mason rushed onto the log behind her.
“Just step, step, step,” he told her calmly. “You’re good. I’m right behind you.”
“I hate this, I hate this, I hate this,” Morgan whimpered. “I am not a baby!” she shouted. “This is stupid-dangerous and any sane person would be scared.”
“Morgie, I’m scared too. We just have to—”
“Did you just call me Morgie?” She stopped so suddenly that it threw her off balance. She pinwheeled her arms. “No, no. You guys!”
Annette’s hands sweated as she watched. A small crack near the thicker end of the log on her side widened. A snapping sound. A low thud. The log shook, rolling a little. Morgan screamed.
“Run!” Yumi screamed, reaching out her hand from the far side.
“Annette, hurry!” Hunter shouted.
Mason hooked his arms beneath Morgan’s armpits, lifted with a grunt, and ran, jumping, with Morgan, into the waiting arms of the whole panicked group.
It all happened in a couple of seconds, and yet, to Annette, time stretched, so that an instant dragged to eternity, and the old tree, scraping, cracking, and thudding down the rocky sides of the chasm to the fires below, signaled with each sound it made, the cruel certainty that Annette was trapped. She was doomed.
Everyone was quiet for a long time. From the near distance, fire crackled. From somewhere came the loud snap-crunch of what had to be a whole tree succumbing to the fire.
Morgan sobbed. “Oh no.” Tears rolled down her face. “Annette, I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry. If I had hurried. If I hadn’t froze up like that, you would have had time to cross. Now . . . now what are we going to do?” Sitting in the dirt, she looked around helplessly at the others. “What are we going to do?”
Annette stared at the wide-open gap before her. At least six feet. Maybe a little more. She looked at the others. Hunter. Kelton. Swann. They all stared back, sad and helpless. Even Yumi, who had seemed like an action hero half the day, stood with tears in her eyes, apparently out of options.
“Doesn’t something like this happen in Snowtastrophe III?” Annette asked. She smiled sadly at Swann. “Like Lieutenant Whatshisname, played by Ricky Wu, is trying to get that reporter girl to safety, but the ice gives out between them, and your dad, the Lord of the Vampires, is closing in on his snowmobile. He’s cut off.”
“Annette,” Swann said. “That’s just a stupid movie. The ravine was all cushions in the bottom. Computer tricks made it look deep. And the scene was filmed with stunt doubles who were on wires for the whole jump across.”
Annette smiled. “There you go, Swann. Great idea.”
Swann looked at Kelton. “Did she hit her head or something? Dehydration getting to her?”
Annette explained. “This time it will be the reporter girl making the jump. No stunt doubles or cushions involved, but we will have a safety wire.” She rushed to her backpack, pulled out the rope, and tied her end of the rope around her waist, weaving it through the belt loops on her jeans for good measure.
Yumi frowned, hands on her hips. “What are you . . . No, Ann, come on. This is stupid.”
“Yes, it is!” Annette proclaimed. “Dumbest thing I’ve ever done.” She spun the other end around and around above her head rodeo-style, before throwing it over to the others. Kelton caught it. He stared at the rope in wonder. “This is dumb, but so is waiting around over here to be burned alive. So, this is how it’s going to work. There are seven of you. One of me. Enough rope to give me a bit of a running start. I’ll run and jump. Morgan, you hold the rope in front. Once you see I’ve jumped, you yell to pull. Then everybody pull fast as you can. That way if I don’t quite make it, you can help haul me up to safety.”
Hunter glanced around at the others, even as he took hold of the rope. “Annette, are you sure about this?”
No, she was absolutely not sure about this. How could he ask that? Maybe Ricky Wu’s character on Snowtastrophe III never had doubts, but she was no bodybuilder martial-arts-specialist actor like Ricky Wu. “I’m going to jump whether or not you help me, so if you want to sit back and do nothing, while I fall to a bone-crushing fiery death . . . hey, that’s cool, I guess.”
