Wildfire Phoenix by Zoe Chant

Chapter 28

“Tens of thousands of people have been forced to leave their homes under mandatory evacuation orders, as wildfires continue to rage throughout Montana. Firefighters from across the country are battling to contain a record number of simultaneous fires, started by an unusually high number of lightning strikes. So far, scientists have been unable to explain the freak weather conditions causing these ‘dry thunderstorms,’ which—”

“Somebody turn off the news,” Blaise muttered, too tired to reach for the radio herself. It was all she could do to keep the crew transport on the road. “It’s depressing.”

Rory stirred in the passenger seat, coming out of his half-doze. He stared blearily at the dashboard, like it was the console of some alien spaceship, before stabbing at a button. The news reader’s tense, worried voice cut off.

“Hey,” Joe objected from the back seat, though it didn’t sound like his heart was in it. “I was listening to that.”

“Why?” Callum’s voice was an emotionless monotone, stripped down by exhaustion. “It’s not going to tell us anything we don’t already know.”

“It was helping me stay awake.”

“Why on earth would you do that?” Wystan mumbled. “If you don’t want your sleep, I’ll have it.”

“Believe me, bro, you don’t want my dreams.”

Rory rubbed at his face, his unshaven stubble making a rasping sound against his callused palm. “Something we should know, Joe?”

“Just more of the same. Fire, fire, and more fire. Sometimes, just for a change, fire.”

“That’s all any of us are seeing,” Callum pointed out.

“Which isn’t making it easy to separate visions from reality.” Joe heaved a sigh. “Getting to the point where I can’t tell whether I’ve got my eyes open or shut.”

Blaise glanced into the rear-view mirror. “Open.”

“Thanks, bro.”

“Anytime.”

Her own eyes were gritty with ash. She rubbed at them, which probably just added a fresh layer of grime to her filthy face. There hadn’t been shower facilities at the last fire camp. Or tents. Or food, for that matter. All they’d had was what they’d carried in themselves, on their own backs.

“Gonna have to order more MREs,” she said to Rory. “That trip nearly cleaned us out of rations. Remind me to remind Buck.”

From the look Rory gave her, she might as well have asked him to translate the complete works of Shakespeare into Urdu. “Wystan?”

“Yes?”

“Remind me to remind Blaise to remind Buck about the MREs.”

“Right. Of course.” A pause. “Fenrir?”

“Am asleep.”

“My sincere apologies. Joe?”

“Bro, I’m already fairly convinced that I’m hallucinating you all, and that none of this has happened yet. Don’t rely on me to remember my own name, let alone anything else.”

Callum leaned forward, tapping Blaise’s shoulder. “Turning.”

“Shit!” In her exhausted state, she’d nearly missed the track up to their base. She spun the steering wheel, squashing the rest of the squad together. “Sorry, guys.”

“Don’t be,” Joe said from the depths of Fenrir’s armpit. “This is the comfiest I’ve been for weeks. I might go to sleep after all.”

“Too late.” Blaise parked the transport. “We’re here.”

Blaise stared at the car door handle, trying to muster the energy to reach for it. She might have still been sitting there at dawn if her mother hadn’t opened it for her.

“You look terrible, love,” Rose said by way of greeting.

“Thanks. That’s a lot better than I feel.” Blaise slid out, just about managing some semblance of standing upright. “What are you doing here?”

“Buck called ahead to let everyone know the crew was on their way back.” Her mother gestured around the parking lot, where other family members were also coming forward to greet the returning firefighters. “Though he warned us you probably wouldn’t be in the mood for celebrations.”

“Nothing to celebrate. Fire’s still not contained. We just reached the limit of how long we’re legally allowed to work, so had to hand off to another crew. Though God only knows who. From what I’ve heard, every hotshot and wildland firefighter is already out on assignment. Speaking of which, is Dad back yet?”

Her mother shook her head. Her usually warm, smiling face was drawn with worry. “He’s still flying around the state, helping as much as he can. Unofficially, of course. But even he can’t blow out wildfires like candles on a birthday cake.”

“At least he’s giving people a chance to evacuate safely. And saving some homes, too.” Blaise had seen more than one shaky-cam amateur video clip of fires ‘miraculously’ diverting around houses, devouring trees and yards while leaving structures untouched. “We’re lucky to have him here.”

“Could do with a couple dozen more shifters like him,” Buck said, joining them. Like the rest of the crew, the Superintendent was gray with ash and exhaustion. He nodded to Rose in greeting before turning to Blaise. “Good job out there. Just coming round to tell everyone to leave all the crap in the trucks for now. We’ll sort it out later, after we’ve all had a chance to sleep, eat, and shower. Not necessarily in that order.”

Blaise scrubbed a hand over her hair, dislodging a fine drifting of ash. Her curls were getting long enough to be annoying under her helmet. There hadn’t been time in between the back-to-back assignments to get a haircut. At this rate, she’d have to run clippers over it herself.

“I should unload the drip torches at least,” she said, though the thought of doing anything other than collapsing onto the nearest flat surface made her want to cry. “Against safety regs to store them in the trucks overnight.”

“Seren’ll take care of it.” Buck gave her a pale shadow of his usual glare, his bloodshot eyes barely able to focus. “Won’t do anyone any good if you push yourself too hard and end up in hospital on a saline drip. Get some rest, Blaise. That’s an order.”

“That reminds me,” she mumbled. “Got to order MREs. We’re out.”

“You know Edith will already be on top of all the logistical stuff. Or you would, if you weren’t so brain-dead you’re practically in a body bag.” Buck jabbed her shoulder with a finger. “I’m giving everyone five days off to recover, and I don’t want to see you pick up so much as a pen that entire time, understand?”

“But—”

“Don’t make me drag your mom into this.”

Rose’s dark eyes glittered. “I’m still perfectly capable of grounding you, even if you are an adult. And that goes for you too, Buck. Oh, don’t give me that look. I’ve been mated to Ash for decades, I know what you alpha types are like. Always so busy looking after your crew, you forget to take care of yourself. I bet you’ll send everyone home, and then go straight to your office and work through the night, hmm?”

Blaise had the rare delight of seeing Buck look taken aback. “Well, I—there is a lot of paperwork—”

“Which will still be there after you’re fed and rested.” Rose linked her arm through his, claiming Blaise’s as well. “I’ve got hot meals waiting for you both in the kitchen. Are you two going to come quietly, or do I have to tie you to high chairs and spoon-feed you? Don’t think I won’t.”

Before either of them could respond, Edith came panting up, one hand cradling her ever-expanding bump. Dark circles smudged her eye sockets, and wisps of her long blonde hair were escaping from her usually neat braid. Blaise knew that she’d been putting in countless hours of unpaid overtime to support the squads out in the field.

“Superintendent,” Edith said, and then had to stop to catch her breath. “Boise is on the line.”

Blaise’s heart sank right down to her sweaty, disgusting socks. Boise was the location of the National Interagency Fire Center, which coordinated wildland firefighters across the country. If they were calling, it could only mean one thing.

“I told them that we’d done four back-to-back assignments already,” Edith continued, clearly unhappy about being the bearer of bad news. “But our region is desperately short-staffed, even after calling in the smokejumpers and Type II crews from neighboring areas. Boise is asking how fast we can turn around.”

Buck rubbed his forehead, smearing the dirt there. “You’ve been monitoring the overall situation. Are Boise yanking our chain in an attempt to pinch some pennies, or is it really that bad?”

“It’s bad,” Edith said bluntly. “They need us back out there, chief.”

Buck let out a long breath through his nose. Then he raised his voice. “Forty-eight hours, people! I know, I know, but we’ve all seen the news. Two days. Make ‘em count.”

The hotshots were too tired to grumble at the minimum rest period. Even Joe just nodded, slumped against Seren, bereft of witty comments. One by one, firefighters staggered away to their cars or cabins.

“Come on, love.” Blaise’s mom pulled gently at her arm. “Let’s get some food into you.”

Blaise’s stomach growled, reminding her just how long it had been since she’d had a meal that wasn’t vacuum-packed and laced with preservatives. Eight weeks of eighteen hour shifts, broken only by a few snatched rest days, was enough to drain even a shifter’s stamina to the dregs. Nonetheless, she shook her head.

“Thanks, Mom.” She disentangled herself. “But I think I’ll just head to my cabin. I need… I need to get some sleep.”

Rose didn’t try to argue. She just nodded, her eyes shadowed by the deep, powerless grief of a parent who could see their child hurting, and could do nothing to help.

She pulled Blaise in for a hug. “Give Zephyr my love.”