Page 81 of Jump

“Yes, Lieutenant.” He rocks in his seat and looks out the windows as we speed down Main Street, and townspeople come out to watch us pass.

It’s still early in the day, which means kids aren’t at school yet. But instead of being inside their homes, watching cartoons and hoovering cereal, they come outside and wave.

They idolize the idiots who run toward death, and when one bites it and doesn’t come home again, they call them a hero and salute the ones still living every chance they get.

“What about me, Lieutenant?” Ivy’s voice grates on my nerves as we move away from Main Street and start up, toward Lookout Hill. “I can spearhead with you and Axel.”

“You’ll operate the aerial.”

Her eyes fire with anger in my peripherals—made worse when I still don’t give her my full attention.

“Aerial?” she bites out. “Lieutenant?”

“Yeah. The big ladder. You know the one?”

“The one we won’t even use today?” she challenges. “You mean that one?”

I catch Axel’s side-eye as he listens to our back-and-forth. Then Rizz’s. Even Sloane watches us in his rearview mirror. Everyone watches the newest member of our crew defy her lieutenant, just to see what I’ll do about it. But Ivy only raises a challenging brow, daring me to keep her off the fire.

My eyes are pulled from hers by the black smoke billowing into the sky as we round the last curve of the hill and come upon two destroyed cars. Worse, one of them hangs off the edge of the hill, and screams peal from inside, audible even above the roar of our sirens.

“Lieutenant?” Ivy demands. “Where will I report?”

“Aerial,” I snap.

I shove out of the truck the very second Sloane has it skidding to a stop on dirt and slushy snow, and looking back for a single beat, I catch the fire chief’s car pulling up right beside us.

“We need the winch!” I race toward the side of the truck and pull open the toolboxes mounted there. “Axel! Get the hook onto that car before it topples over.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.” He snatches the rope from the truck and sprints toward his target, like he has endless pools of energy and no fear of falling over the cliff with the damn car.

It’s what I love and hate most about him. It’s what I loved and hated most when he came onto my old crew of smokejumpers, and would wholeheartedly throw himself into a hundred thousand acres of dragon fire.

“Help!”

A woman’s panicked scream has my head coming up the way a dog’s does when it catches a scent in the air.

I spin on my feet and scour the scene laid out before me: two cars, smashed beyond belief. One, a truck, is settled firmly on its wheels about twenty feet from the edge of the hill, while the second, a hatchback with its front crumpled like an accordion, perches precariously, the rear, right wheel dangling over the precipice, while the other three cling to muddy snow.

Our priority is clear.

Axel skids to a stop, under the smaller car, and latches his hook to the steel frame, then he twists my way with a thumb up. “Let’s go.”

“Help!” the vic cries out again. “Oh god, please help!”

“Stay by the truck,” I order Ivy. “Operate the winch.”

Then I bolt toward Axel, grab his hand as he scrambles out from under the vehicle, and yank him up to his feet.

With my teammate safe, I edge closer to the car and place my hands on the crumpled hood to peer inside. But the interior is clouded with smoke.

“Ma’am?” I move to the left corner of the car and glance toward the side window in an effort to see in. “Are you in there, ma’am? Are you injured?”

“I’m… uh…”

Although she sounds uncertain, her verbal response at least brings me relief that she’s alive and well after such a collision. Even with the smoke.

“I think my leg is broken,” she whimpers. “It’s kinda numb right now, but I can see my bone. Oh god.” She shudders so I hear her tone wobble, and I know her blood pressure drops. “Oh god, I can see my bone.”

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