Page 51 of Fireline

Knots drew tight in her stomach. She clawed at Finn’s rig, managing to yank his cut-away handle to jettison his main chute.

“Reserve, Finn!” she shrieked one last time.

Gritting her teeth, she yanked her own cutaway handle. Slipped. Caught on the lines. Kicked and struggled until she fell away.

Nova’s pulse hammered. She activated her emergency reserve. Felt the crack of it inflating. The familiar tug of her parachute unfurling. The canopy caught and slowed her descent.

In the same heartbeat, she glimpsed Finn still hurtling, deadweight, toward the jagged trees below.

“No! Oh, God! Finn! Fiiiinn!” Why wasn’t his AAD working?

Time was running out. If it didn’t deploy soon—oh, God, help him.

Like an answer to her frenzied prayers, his automated backup kicked in, cracking open mere feet above the raging inferno below. Finn’s battered body soared over a stand of burning firs and disappeared into the swirling smoke.

Tears streamed down her face.

Gasping, she maneuvered her parachute away from the flames. What had she done? Why had she cut away?

She knew why. It was the protocol for entanglements. Still…she’d tried to save them both. Instead, she’d almost certainly caused Finn’s death.

Nova choked back a sob. She had to focus or she’d suffer the same fate. After wiping a tear, she turned her attention to navigating toward a clearing on the edge of the burn.

The wind continued to drive the fire. Flames roared at the edge of the drop zone, thrusting waves of blistering air upward and wreaking havoc with her ability to control the descent.

This landing was not going to be pretty.

She fought to tame the bucking parachute as she neared the treetops, aiming for a slender gap in the fire. A sudden thermal grabbed the canopy, dragging Nova sideways despite all her efforts. The wind propelled her over the brink of a sheer rock face concealed by the dense smoke.

Nova spilled every bit of air possible from her chute in an attempt to stall her forward movement as she lost altitude. But the merciless updraft shoved her out over what she could now see was a treacherous canyon glowing red with advancing flames below. Facing the horrifying prospect of being dumped into the inferno, she cut away the last of her rigging just as it dragged her over the precipice.

Her breath caught as she braced herself for impact.

A scream tore from her throat as she plunged toward the canyon floor. She clawed at crumbling shale, her nails tearing, finding no purchase on the frictionless grade. A sharp pain tore through the sleeve of her fire shirt. She tumbled down and slammed onto a narrow ledge.

Her helmet cracked against stone.

Nova slid over the edge.

TEN

Booth leaned the shovel against a tree and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He’d taken about fifteen minutes to dig a six-inch-wide fire line in an arc.

He grabbed the red gas can he’d taken from the truck. The reek of gasoline permeated his nostrils as he splashed the line of vegetation bordering the cabin. He trailed back into the woods, soaking the blanket of pine needles and desiccated brush. The perfect fuse.

Next, he took a burning stick from the campfire ring and knelt in the woods. Watching. Waiting.

It seemed like forever before Floyd exited the cabin, coffee mug in hand. “Where is he?” He held a cell phone up to the sky. “Dern spotty cell coverage.”

Booth held his breath and touched the flaming stick to the gasoline-soaked trail.

The line ignited with a soft whump.

Flames chewed through the fuel. Smoke boiled up in noxious plumes as the fire found more vegetation to consume.

“What the—” Floyd jumped back. His mug shattered on the ground, spilling his drink. He bolted inside under a stream of expletives.

Booth was already on the move, circling wide along the blaze toward the truck parked in front.

---