23. Mason

TWENTY-THREE

Mason

I've never considered which superpower I'd want in real life that much, not outside of funny one-off conversations while I'm half drunk.

Right now, though, I'd kill to be able to control the goddamn weather.

I try to look on the bright side. Some of the crown fire has been contained, and the fireline held north of my position.

Still, with such dry air, aerial fuels, and a fucking breeze on top of it, flames are continuing to spread toward town. It's too similar to what happened with…yeah.

Stop, Mason. Don't think like that. Focus on the job.

A few hours have passed since the fire broke out, and I haven't heard anything from Bridget, which is actually a good sign.

But I'm running out of steam. No pun intended.

"Hayes!"

I turn to my captain, rushing through the brush to get toward him. "Captain! I'm here!"

As I reach him, Reynolds is sweating beneath his protective gear, and soot covers the outside. The smell of smoke permeates through my protective mask, and the heat is too intense to ignore.

"We need to get this other section controlled. Go with your team and get a fuel-break going with a backfire. The tree clearing just south will make a good anchor point for the control line. You can set up a defensible space from there."

I nod. "On it. Fire cache there?"

"Yes. Smith and Ramirez are there now. Take Patches and O'Brien with you."

My heart rate soars as I give Captain Reynolds the affirmative and get moving. I need to get to the south of this position so that we can contain the other side of the fire.

It looks like the men there need another hand with setting the fireline, and I flag down O'Brien and Patches as they work to clear debris from falling branches away from the fire's path.

"Hey, new fireline being made south by the clearing! Come on!"

They quickly rush over, and we take off toward the other plug set up and ready to spray once the fireline is set.

The blaze is creeping up to the set spot, and that nagging worry grips me tighter. This is way too close to town for comfort.

Another one of those strong gusts and the fire could catch across the tree canopy. This fucker cannot get into town.

Visions of Mia and Bridget hit me as I run with my colleagues through the brush. My baby girl needs me to come home, and the thought of never seeing her smiling face again threatens to force me to my knees.

But I won't let it.

Doubling down on the run, I channel every bit of strength I have to get to the new anchor point. With a fireline established on this side, we'll be so close to having full containment over the fire.

The threat level goes way down after that. So, I have to make it happen.

I focus on doing everything I can to stop the blaze from reaching town, from reaching Mia. Smith and Ramirez are there already with the truck, working on burning out that fireline to control the incoming wildfire.

We just need to use up the fuel so it can't travel. The forest won't be the same after this, but we can keep the damage down if we can just stop the thing from progressing.

Barking information over the heavy din of the approaching flames, we work together to get the backfire eating up potential fuel, clearing out the underbrush, and soaking the areas past the control line to keep it from getting out of hand.

I'm working as hard and fast as my body can muster, desperation clawing at the edges when I think about Bridget and Mia back in town, trying to stay safe.

I've been waiting for that girl my whole damn life, and I will not lose Bridget now. It took long enough for us to get this far, and some fire isn't going to keep me from seizing every moment I have with her.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Patches point up to the sky and yell, "Bambi bucket!"

One of the helicopter-carried collapsible buckets is over the edges of the fire on this side. It's going to fall with a lot of force, and we all get to cover.

The water rushes down, soaking the spot where the flames are creeping up to the control line.

But creaking sounds from overhead, and I know the branches here are getting fragile. The heat from the fire is making them brittle, and the assault from the Bambi Bucket has cracked some of them.

"Collapse risk!"

I point up, and the others catch my warning, adjusting their positions to manage the control line.

As they move, however, I notice that Patches gets his foot stuck under a tangle of partially burnt roots. He trips, hitting the ground and losing his helmet.

"Patches!" I hurry over, reaching for the guy's arms to drag him out. "You ain't adding another hole to that undershirt. Come on."

He got his nickname for his hand-me-down clothes, and I'm not letting the poor kid get hurt out here. He has a newborn to get home to.

Crack!

We both look up, and a branch above us comes tumbling down. I shove Patches out of the way, leaping forward to avoid the impact.

I'm only partially successful.

Pain lances through my back as the blunt force knocks me to the ground and smashes into my back. The branch rolls down my body as it comes to a stop, pinning my legs beneath them.

"Fuck," I groan, but I can still move. I'm just…stuck.

"Hayes!" I hear O'Brien call, and he sprints over with the others to help me get out from under the branch. "Jesus, man. Are you all right?"

I cock him a crooked grin, my entire body screaming at me. "Oh, you know, just pain. Ugh, get me out of here."

The heat blooms over me as the men work to get me free, and the smoke is picking up from the backfire and the flames surging toward it. Even with the mask, my eyes sting, and my back and leg that caught the brunt of the impact steadily throb.

Worse, my head is spinning, and the dizzy, disorienting sensation makes it difficult to keep my eyes open. Pain swells higher as the heat gets more and more intense, and I stop pushing against the branch with the others.

"Hey, now, don't you pass out on me." O'Brien is right next to my face, pulling me by the shoulders across the ground, but my gear is caught in the branch. "Come on, Hayes, hang on."

I like the guy. He's always fun to have at the station, making jokes and suggesting the best movies to watch. I should invite him over for dinner.

Suddenly, I realize that I'm not controlling my thoughts well, and I feel a bit like I'm drunk. Fucking hell, probably a concussion .

"Why did you do that, man?" Patches says, his brow furrowed way down over his eyes. "You…you…"

Shakily, I reach around the branch and pat him on the arm. "Hey. You need to get home to Rochelle and baby Erin."

"You're too damn good, Mason."

I try to give Patches a smile, but I can't seem to find the strength. My head feels fuzzy, and the forest in front of me goes blurry.

"Hang on, Hayes!"

I hear the men's voices shouting, but my body is done. I'm not steering this ship anymore, and as the pain throbs with each heartbeat, my eyes close.

I won't give up. I promised you, Bridget. I just…need to…

And then I pass out.