Page 12 of Saved By the Firefighter

"But he's all alone!" His lip quivers, and something inside me snaps. I can't leave that dog behind. Not when I remember the ache of losing my own furry friend when I was just a kid. I won't let Tommy feel that loss.

"Okay, okay," I murmur more to myself than anyone else. I rise from my seat, determined. "I'll grab him quickly. Which tree was he tied to?"

Tommy sniffs. "Near my tent."

"Was it blue?"

Tommy nods.

"Ellie, no." Danielle's hand clamps down on my arm, her nails digging in. "No. No. It's too dangerous! It breaks my heart, but we can't. We have to get the kids to safety."

"Then go. Please. I'll grab Moose and take my car back. It will only take a minute."

The driver is getting irritated from the delay and turns to glare at us. "We need to go," he says. "I'm backing up."

I hurry toward the door, but Danielle grabs me again. "Are you crazy? I'm not letting you go out there. Forget the dog!" Her words sting, but I understand her fear.

Tommy erupts into sobs and my heart twists.

"I'm not going to stand here and argue!" I shout at her and she flinches. "Sorry, but I'll be okay. Just go!"

"What if something happens to you?" she shouts back, but I'm already at the door.

As I step down, Danielle says, "Dammit, Ellie. Be careful."

I jump from the bus as the driver shuts the door and punches the gas to get onto the road out of here. I cough, struggling to breathe, so I pull my PJ shirt up to cover my nose. As the bus pulls away, I catch Danielle's face pressed against the window, looking terrified like she’ll never see me again.

Fire rages through the trees, casting an eerie orange glow across the campground like it's daytime. Regardless, it's still hard to see through the smoke. A branch overhead is crackling with flames and I realize that what I'm doing is absolutely insane. But if I let that dog die, it'll haunt me the rest of my life. I'll think of how it was trapped, the fire getting closer and closer until...

I locate the blue tent, struggling to breathe. My stomach drops. There's a leash on the ground, but no dog. I pick up the leash.

Fuck, he must've gotten loose again.

But that means he'll survive at least. He's smart enough to know to run away from fire. Tommy may never see him again but...

I hurry to my tent to grab my phone and car keys. I freeze when I hear barking. I straighten, peering through the dense haze around me. The barking is close.

I suck in the biggest breath I can and shout, "Moose! Here, boy!" But it's too much and I hunch over from a violent cough.

The barking sounds frantic and I worry he's hurt, so I wander toward the sound. I'm running on pure adrenaline now, my mind sharply focused on the task of grabbing this dog, getting in my car, and getting the hell out of here.

I'll be okay. Just need to get Moose and...

I squint against the sting of the smoke, forcing my legs to pump faster. I've always prided myself on being the cool-headed one, the teacher who can handle any playground scrape with a band-aid and a joke. But right now, I'm just Ellie, scared out of her mind but too stubborn to turn back.

I step over a fallen branch, nearly tripping but catching myself at the last second. And then I hear it—the unmistakable sound of paws thumping against the ground and a whine that cuts straight to my heart. I stumble onto a clearing and there he is, the golden retriever with his tongue lolling out, looking just as terrified as I feel.

His tail wags furiously as he approaches.

I pat his head, then grab his collar to attach the leash. "You're okay. We're gonna be okay." Another cough seizes me. Smoke is burning my eyes so much it's hard to keep them open, moisture streaming down my face. But I have the dog, now I just need to get in my car and this will soon be a distant nightmare.

I take a moment, closing my eyes. I need this second of stillness before facing the chaos again. After a beat, I open my eyes, ready to do this. But as I glance around, I realize I can't tell which way to walk. There's only smoke and an orange glow as far as the eye can see. I blink against the stinging haze. Which way? Which way?

I have no idea, so maybe I should just move away from the fire. I have my cell phone, so I can get to a spot with service and call for help. Or just walk until I find a road. I'm sure I can find a road. This campground isn’t that big.

I tug on the leash so Moose follows me, then I cover my nose with as much fabric as I can, trying to take shallow breaths. I remember something from a safety training class about smoke rising, so I hunch over a little, trying to get my face into air that's more breathable. My head is swimming, my lungs burning, but I keep moving away from the orange glow.

Keep going. Just keep going.

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