Page 14 of Fireline

Jan had to be here somewhere. She tugged the fire jacket off the fiberglass figure and tossed it around her shoulders.

Now, stay low. Limit smoke inhalation. Find Jan. Get the heck outta here.

Smoldering museum relics crumbled under her boots as she crept through the sweltering air. A few feet away, she saw another lump. Familiar puffs of gray hair peeked out.

“Jan! Jan, are you okay?” Hot smoke burned her raw throat.

Nova fell to her knees beside the unconscious older woman and assessed her condition. Thready pulse. Shallow breaths. Legs pinned by a ten-foot-long birch log used in a display. The thing had to weigh close to seven hundred pounds.

The ceiling splintered with a thunderous crack.

She threw herself over Jan as a desk from the second-floor offices crashed down beside them, barely missing them. The desk teetered on two legs, then fell against the wall.

They had to get out of here before the whole death trap collapsed.

She pulled the ancient turnout coat off her shoulders and draped it over Jan. Crawled a few feet away and grabbed an old leather oxygen mask and slipped it over her head.

Lord, let this antiquated thing work. She breathed in stale, leathery air. If nothing else, the dusty goggles would keep the smoke out of her eyes.

“Hang on. I’ll get this thing off you.”

She squatted and tried to lift the massive log. It was too hot and too heavy. Ugh, she needed her gloves.

Give me a lever long enough and I’ll move the world…

The quote her father had often used rolled through her mind.

Yes, she needed a lever! She scanned the room for something, anything that would work, but came up short.

It didn’t matter.

She could do this.

She could prevent Jan from burning. Give the EMTs the best chance to save her.

She braced her hands on the burning floorboards and her boots against the smoldering log. With all her leg strength, she heaved. It didn’t move.

Red hot embers and ash fell on Jan.

New plan. She scurried around the woman, grabbed her under both arms, and pulled. Debris rained down and pelted her. Small stabs of pain pricked her skin where the fire burned holes through her shirt as she worked to free the woman.

The shouts outside grew louder. There was a booming thud. Another. Another.

Sounds of wood splintering. Shards of wood flying.

She turned. Tried to see through the goggles clouded by age.

A hulking shadow stormed through the fire, heading right toward them, marching over broken two-by-fours and blazing maps of the same Kootenai National Forest where she battled wildfires.

A hero coming through the flames to save her.

The very last hero that she wanted. But the one she probably needed.

This time.

THREE

Great, his worst fear. Being trapped in a house fire. At least out in the wilderness he had options. He could run.

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