Falls Like Lightning (4 page)

“Can I talk to the firemen?”

“Absolutely not.” Elle flattened a crease in Madison’s skirt. “You know, I do need you to take care of an important job for me.”

“What?”

She picked up Maddie’s dolly. “Watch over Rose.”

Maddie’s mouth turned at the side.

“What?”

“I always take care of Rose, Mom.”

“Of course you do, baby. If you need anything, don’t be afraid to ask Mrs. Weitz, okay?”

Madison nodded and smiled again at Sharon.

Elle picked up Maddie’s pink backpack. “There’s an activity book in here. In the front pouch I stuffed two DVDs she can watch in the break room. Thanks again.”

Sharon took the backpack and stretched a hand toward Elle’s little girl. “Miss Madison, would you care to show Rose the special table in the break room where she can have treats?”

Maddie’s face lit up at the mention of sweets. She picked up Rose, whispered into her cotton ear, and then took Sharon’s hand and smiled. “We would be delighted to.”

Sharon wrinkled her nose and led her down the hall, Rose dangling by Maddie’s side.

———

A translucent jade cloud cover stretched across the sky. Elle pulled off her sunglasses and glanced at her watch. Quarter to noon. She inspected the Twin Otter’s right wing flaps, testing their resistance by hand. The heat of the day already bore down, reflecting off the craft’s white paint. According to the situation report, multiple fires were blowing up across Oregon, northern California, and Nevada. Just as she’d thought they would.

It was almost lunchtime. She needed to check in on Maddie, make sure she was eating what Elle had packed and wasn’t too bored out of her mind. Knowing her little girl, Elle fully expected the break room to be decorated with paper butterflies and drawings of horses grazing in green pastures.

She’d taken two steps when the base horn sounded, churning like an air-raid siren. She gritted her teeth.

The jumpers had five minutes to gear up. She had a total of fifteen to get them in the air.

Elle yanked on the rope attached to the wheel chocks and climbed into the aircraft. The check on Maddie would have to wait.

Be back soon, girl.

CHAPTER

06

T
here was a quiet after everything burned.

Silas’s arms cramped in the framework position they’d been in for the past two hours. The scorching outside temperatures and the lack of climbing rope gave him little option but to ride out the firestorm, protected by his layered-foil fire shelter tented across the mouth of the crevice. The tech behind him stirred and mumbled.

The shelter fluttered. The fingers on one hand throbbed, and the skin on his hands felt raw, likely from heat conducted through his gloves. His parched throat taunted him. His back and shoulders ached. He peered out the edge of the fire shelter. Heat wafted in. Warm but not intolerable. The hillside looked like a volcanic aftermath, smoke disseminating into the air.

He depressed the button on his radio, repeating a tired transmission. “Redding Jumper Crew, this is Kent. Redding Jumper Crew, how do you copy?”

Silas had no way of knowing if his team had survived the fire’s blowup. He tilted his head back.

Something small struck the foil shield. Silas studied the creased dent where it hit. Another struck.

A voice came from below. “Silas? Silas?”

He pulled back the shelter. Warren Adams stood on the rock ledge at the bottom of the cliff, silver fire shelter folded and tucked into his fireline pack. The rest of the crew dotted the hill, standing in the black.

“You all right?”

“I feel like a baked potato.”

He sniffed and nodded. “Any sight of the radio tech?”

“I got him. He’s right behind me.”

Warren’s eyes widened. “How is he?”

“Unconscious but breathing. Looks like he took a blow to the head.”

Warren folded his arms. “You know . . .” He jutted his chin, restraining a grin. “I might have to write you up for breaking a Watch Out Situation.”

“Ah. Which one?”

He held up his palm. “Taking a nap by the fireline.”

Silas grinned. Relief and fatigue washed over him.

Warren called down the line to the crew and then turned back to Silas. “Hang tight, buddy. We’ll get you down.”

———

Elle’s pulse whirred like a propeller. The sound of her footsteps echoed down the hall. Through the glass doors at the far end, white sunlight warped along the glossy concrete floor.

She thought of Maddie, head on crossed arms at the break room table, eyes watching
Sleeping Beauty
again for lack of anything else to do. After returning from dropping the load of jumpers down south, Elle had had all of ten minutes to talk to her before being called to a meeting with Base Manager Weathers. Maddie handled the day well, drawing pictures of the same horse pasture through all four seasons. The girl loved snow. She cut out a myriad of snowflakes that now dangled over the microwave and were stuck to the glass of the candy machine.

“I put them over the good candies,” she’d said. “So I won’t be tempted.”

Elle made sure to buy her Skittles. Maddie had a talent for making them last over an hour by sucking on them one at a time.

Elle arrived at the office of Base Manager Weathers and let out a quick breath. She straightened the pleats in her pants, patted her hair for errant strands, and set her palm on the doorknob. Weathers was almost like an uncle to her. He was a good man and had been a good friend of her father’s. But she knew budget cuts had run deep this year. There were rumors of more pilot layoffs, and she wasn’t immune. But this job was the last thing keeping them afloat.

Elle felt the knob turn under her hand. The door opened inward and she looked up in surprise.

Weathers swung it in, his eyes fixing on Elle over his rectangular reading glasses. “Just the lady I was looking for.”

Elle glanced toward the doors at the end of the hall and swallowed. “Hi, Chief.”

“Come on in, Elle. Have a seat. Can I get you some coffee?”

She generally avoided the black tar but heard herself say, “Yes. Thank you,” as Weathers ushered her toward a chair in front of his desk.

He poured a steaming ceramic cupful. An oily swirl of iridescent colors floated on the surface.

“Folgers.” He winked.

Elle brought her lips up in a smile. “Thanks.” She tried to use her opposite palm as a saucer, but the bottom of the cup was too hot to touch. She held it with one hand and a finger on the bottom edge.

Weathers sank into his chair, bald head beginning with a brow furrowed in a stadium of lines. He picked up a brass-colored pen and twirled it between his fingers. “All this is turning my hair gray, you know.”

Distracted, Elle realized late his attempt at humor.

Weathers tapped his pen on the desk and leaned back, coaxing a squeak from his chair. “Sometimes managers think they are promoted to the position they hold for their own sake, because of how great they are and how much they deserve.” He peered out at the runways. “But I know that leadership is about stewardship.” He brought a hand up toward a wall map of central Oregon. “I’ve been entrusted with much.”

Elle wanted to shift in her seat but feared spilling the coffee. Weathers was proving difficult to read. If he was going to can her, he might as well get on with it, otherwise she still had to grease the landing gear fittings and recalibrate the meteorological station.

“Chief . . .” Elle held the coffee cup over a legal pad on the edge of his desk. “May I?”

He waved a hand and she set the cup down.

“Believe me, I understand the concept of stewardship. But if you don’t mind, could you cut to the chase?” Adrenaline swooshed through her chest. She bit her tongue inside her mouth.

Weathers parted his lips, sat up straight, and removed his glasses. His shoulders began shaking and a grin spread across his cheeks. He shook his head. “Oh dear. Elle. You have that old Westmore orneriness.” He wiped an eye.

Her cheeks flushed.

Weathers picked up his glasses. “I always told your father that if he wasn’t dropping jumpers he’d be dropping bombs.”

She knitted her eyebrows.

“You want to know why you’re in here, Captain Westmore?” He leaned back in his chair.

“Of course.”

“Don’t worry, this has nothing to do with layoffs.”

She exhaled.

“It’s because you’re the best pilot for the job.”

Elle cocked her head. “What job?”

Weathers replaced his glasses and gathered a small stack of papers in front of him.

“Chief, you should know—”

He put up a hand. “Let me tell you more about it.” He shifted the top page to the bottom. “As you know, we’ve been getting a lot of lightning lately. The cells have grown bigger and drier by the time they reach the mountains.”

Elle had checked the Situation Report yesterday morning. There were several fires reported, but nothing out of the ordinary. With Maddie at the base, she hadn’t taken the time to sit down in front of the computer and look at the latest.

Weathers tented his fingers. “Hot dry winds have fanned several remote starts into what is now a raging complex.”

“How big?”

“There are already half a dozen fires being measured in terms of square mileage, instead of acreage.”

“That’s . . . How? The SIT report yesterday only showed a handful of starts.”

“You know how it works. You get a bunch of dry brush in steep canyons, mix in powerful, erratic winds with an overactive run of dry lightning cells . . . and overnight those small starts turn into crowning timber fires. They’re making a run, Elle. And they’re joining together. We, right now, are on the verge of the largest lightning-caused fire complex the Sierra Nevada has seen in over a century.”

Elle glanced out the window and back at Weathers. “What part of it?”

He cleared his throat. “The Desolation Wilderness.”

Elle stiffened. Hence why she was there. She hadn’t flown over that terrain since—

“I know.” Weathers nodded. “It hasn’t even been two full years.”

She stared at her lap.

“Elle, I am certain you know those mountains from the air better than anyone.”

“That’s one distinction I wish I didn’t have.”

“You and I, both.” He exhaled. “Your father was a great friend. I went to bat when the Forest Service wanted me to call you back from the search. Convinced them to give you more time. I saw to it that you had Jumper 41 and a green light.”

He didn’t have to remind her. She’d known she was flying on borrowed time in the search for her dad’s private plane. When the energy behind the initial search efforts waned—both from volunteer pilots and government-assigned aircraft—she continued the flights. First up on the runway, last in with sunset. There wasn’t a square mile of the Desolation Wilderness she hadn’t flown over in search of him—for three weeks straight. She didn’t stop until it became physically impossible, until the blizzard came. Eight feet of snow in less than a week. Grounding conditions for longer than that. Any evidence that may have existed before then lay hidden beneath a winter of white.

Weathers stood and walked to the windows.

There had been the large funeral. The dress uniforms and fire trucks and everything expected from a line-of-duty death, even though his had been on civilian time. Her dad was much loved across the West.

But she’d never gained closure.

Weathers studied the runways and pocketed his hands. “The entire South Lake Tahoe airport has been converted into an incident command base. It is the depot for fuel trucks, helicopters, tankers, and planes. They’ve got crews coming in on immediate need from all across the country. They’re being sent out on assignment barely five minutes after they check in.”

Elle sat back. She had Maddie to think about. “Thank you, Chief, for the update. And for considering me for the assignment. But I’ve got Maddie here. I can’t just up and leave. What about Jared? He’s single and unhinged—hitched. I mean unhitched.”

Weathers walked back to the desk. “You know Jared is not the right pilot for this. He lacks the hours and the experience. I need someone who can navigate that rugged terrain—a pilot who understands how to fly through unstable alpine air masses. Guys still talk about the way you landed in that narrow meadow on the Black Hills Fire, hugging the treetops the whole way.”

She shook her head.

He placed his hands on the desktop. “You know the area like no one else. I need Jared to hold down the fort here. Other pilots across the West have already been called up. Look, it’s not an order. I’m asking you. My type-one team has been called up, and I leave for South Lake tonight. I want my best people on this. Why not let the horrible experience of searching for your father get turned around to serve a beneficial goal?”

She felt like an anvil had been laid in her lap. She studied the acoustic tiles on the ceiling.

No. There was no way. She didn’t even have child care for Maddie anymore. She brought her shoulders back, composed herself, and looked the chief in the eye. “Thank you again. I appreciate what you did to allow me to search for my dad. But there are circumstances in my life that prevent me from being able to take a long-term assignment away.”

He stared at the desk and nodded. “I completely understand.”

Elle scooted back her seat. It was settled then. “Great.”

“You’re referring to Madison—correct?”

“Yes.”

“Saw her in the break room earlier. She’s getting big.” He rubbed his hands together. “I spoke with Sharon a bit about your . . . predicament.”

Good old Sharon, as talkative as ever.

“It’s a shame you’re having trouble with Cecelia. I know having her living with you has been a huge benefit. I put some thought to your circumstance, and I have a proposition for you.”

Elle narrowed her eyes. “What is it?”

“Carol and I have been married thirty years. All of our children are out of the house now, but she is a very happy grandmother. Every summer we have our grandchildren come visit us at our vacation cabin on the east shore of Lake Tahoe. I say
us.
But, really, I should say
her
—as I am inevitably committed on a fire right about the time they come up.”