She couldn’t even see the ground crew from this angle anymore. Had to hope they hadn’t moved since her last lap around.

  “Still too high,” Brenda warned. “Gotta get down more.”

  Down more put her right on top of burning trees. Heat pockets and currents kept pushing the plane higher. Like forcing her way through mud to get the plane to the right altitude.

  To the east, a burning pine exploded, the sound and wash of heat hitting her at once, wobbling the plane and her nerves. If one of these things exploded beneath her, they were all screwed.

  “Gotta get lower,” Brenda warned again.

  Andy put all her strength into forcing the plane lower, forcing it past those pockets of hot air trying to drive her back into the sky, or suck her under and flip her into the burning trees.

  She didn’t dare take her hands off the wheel to wipe away the sweat dripping down her face. Blinked hard to clear her vision.

  “Almost there,” Brenda said. “Adjust your angle.”

  Andy counted down in her head, her gaze jumping between her instruments and the raging fire ahead. The heat sucked out all the oxygen. She gritted her teeth. Reached one.

  Dropped her load.

  The full tanks of water swept out behind and below her, covering a swath of the fire and dousing a small section to leave a clear path for the firefighters.

  Over the radio, Andy heard the tower cheering.

  “Dead on,” Brenda said. “Ground crew reporting they’ve got room to breathe.”

  Andy fought the little plane, now considerably lighter, forcing it back up to a safer altitude. Through gritted teeth, she said, “Roger that, Tower. Glad it worked.”

  “Up for another run?” Brenda asked.

  Still struggling with control of the plane, Andy said, “Sure.”

  She jumped and jostled back into the sky, until she broke free of the fire’s grabby currents. Then turned the plane back toward the airfield. If she’d been trained to this, Brenda had told her there was a lake not too far away she could have scooped up more water into the tanks beneath the plane. But without even a practice run at that, they hadn’t wanted to risk it.

  As she cleared the worst of the fire, though, heading back toward safer ground, something in the trees caught her attention. She banked low, swinging over the tops of still unharmed pine.

  And spotted the truck with someone standing in the bed waving up at her.

  “Tower, I’ve got someone in need of help here.” She glanced at her instruments and reported the coordinates. “Got anyone in the area.”

  She banked over the trees to make another pass over the truck. Her fuel gage showed enough to make it back to the landing strip plus enough for an extra few passes over the truck. But not enough to stay in the area until help arrived.

  “No one that isn’t needed for the fire,” Brenda said. “Are they in the fire’s path?”

  Andy did another higher circle of the surroundings. “Worst of it’s to the southwest. Winds blowing it away. If that shifts, though, they’re right in the line.”

  Silence over the radio. Andy did another slow circle over the surroundings. About a mile from the truck, she spotted a lake. The lake Brenda had mentioned was in the area. Not huge. But long enough to land on.

  She hadn’t done a water landing in years. But she’d done them.

  She took one more pass over the stranded man. This time she spotted the kid standing next to the truck as the man continued to wave frantically up at her.

  This wasn’t a passenger plane. There wasn’t a lot of wiggle room in the cockpit. She had the fuel. But squeezing three people in a space designed for one…

  “Anyone near enough to get to them?” She radioed again.

  Brenda finally came back to her. “Not for at least a half hour. And looks like the winds are shifting.”

  Fuck. “I’m landing on this lake up here. I’ll get them out.”

  “They aren’t going to fit in that plane.”

  “I’ll make it work.”

  She angled around until she had the plane lined up with the water.

  “When was the last time you landed on water?” Brenda said, her voice steady and even. All business.

  “Been a few years.”

  “Keep the nose higher than you think it needs to be,” Brenda said, quietly coaching Andy through the process. Step by step. Andy glided down to the water, skimming the surface, letting the pontoons touch down. The stick bucked in her hands but she gripped tight and kept the nose and wings from dipping.

  It wasn’t butter. But she made the landing without breaking apart the plane, so she’d take it.

  “Thanks for talking me through that,” she said to Brenda as she motored the plane to a wide bank, wide enough to hold most of the plane. “I’ll radio once I’ve got everyone.”

  “There’s a first aid kit and fire blankets in the plane. Take those with you.”

  “Got ’em. Out.” She grabbed the blankets and kit, all of which were small enough she could still jog with them, then climbed down from the plane.

  She got her bearings, studying the surroundings, the angle of the sun. Getting lower in the sky. The red glow of the fire to the southwest seemed brighter now. The taste of smoke still coated her tongue. Sweat trickled down her back. She swiped a hand across her forehead, pushing her hair back up into her loosened bun. Then took off at a steady jog through the pines in the direction of the truck.

  4

  It took Andy a solid ten minutes to reach them. This part of the forest was still untouched by the fire, but the dirt road she found curved toward the fire’s path. Unless it turned again, no one was driving out of here in that direction.

  When she reached the truck, she got a better view of the problem. A huge downed pine covered the road in the direction leading away from the fire.

  “You folks need some help?” she asked as she got close enough to be heard.

  The man in the back of the truck looked to be in his late sixties maybe. Gray hair under a gray baseball cap. Face a little weathered. He climbed carefully out of the truck bed. The kid Andy had spotted from above came around to stand just behind the older man. Probably no more than ten, maybe a tall eight given how young he looked. He clutched the man’s hand when the man reached for him.

  “Sure could,” the man said. “My grandson and I got trapped trying to get out of the area.” He nodded at the downed tree. “I got a small ax, but it’s not making a dent in that tree fast enough. Hoped that plane spotted me.”

  “There’s a lake about a mile back. Plane’s there. Winds shifted, so I don’t think we’ll have time to chop through the tree.”

  “Grandpa?” The boy’s voice shook.

  The man patted his shoulder. “Grab your croc,” he said. “We’ll head out.”

  The boy rushed to the truck.

  “Name’s James,” the man said, extending a hand. “My grandson is Ben.”

  “Andy.” She shook his hand. When Ben came back around the side of the truck clutching a huge stuffed crocodile, Andy smiled. “Like your friend there.”

  “We have to save him, too,” Ben said.

  “Of course we do.” To James, she said, “We can’t take too much. Not sure I can squeeze you into the plane nonetheless any gear. But anything irreplaceable, grab it now.”

  James put an arm around his grandson and patted the pocket of his cargo pants with his free hand, where she assumed he had his wallet. “Got everything I need right here.”

  Ben lifted his crocodile. “Me too.”

  “All right then. Follow me.”

  The hike back went a little slower than Andy’s trip to the truck. James and Ben were fit enough for the part of the trek once they got off the smooth dirt road, but the setting sun left the area under the trees dark and precarious. Last thing they needed was someone spraining an ankle or, worse, breaking a bone.

  The smell of smoke got stronger with the shifting winds, the acrid tang raising Andy’s tension. And from the tightening around James’ mouth, he was worried too.

  She kept most of her focus on making sure she got the two back to the lake without getting lost in the unfamiliar territory. She’d marked her path using a pair of scissors from the first aid kit to dig shallow gouges into large trees. But the marks got harder to see the darker it got.

  And as the light faded, the sky overhead turned redder, the fire glow closer than it had been when Andy landed.

  “What were you two doing before the evacuation started?” Andy asked, hoping a little conversation might help.

  “Grandpa and I were fishing in his summer cabin,” Ben said.

  “You fish inside a cabin?” Andy feigned shock. “Wow, that’s impressive.”

  Ben laughed. “Not inside the cabin,” he drawled.

  “Yeah, that’s for winter fishing, right?” James said.

  Ben snorted. “Momma doesn’t like that kind of fishing. She says it’s too cold.”

  “My daughter-in-law’s more of a city girl,” James said with fondness.

  “We were river fishing,” Ben said. “Catching trite.”

  “Trout,” James corrected gently.

  “Trout,” Ben said. “And Howard promised not to eat them.”

  “Howard?” Was there someone else trapped they needed to find?

  “My crocodile,” Ben said.

  Ah. Well, they were already rescuing Howard.

  “He likes fish,” Ben said.

  “Where’d he get a name like Howard?” She spotted another of her marks and angled her little group slightly to follow the path.

  In the distance, she caught the faint sounds of the fire crackling and popping through the trees. But closer, the slush of water against shore. Almost there.

  “He’s never told me,” Ben said. “Just that his name was Howard.”

  “Fair enough. Does Howard fish too, or just watch.”

  “He fishes too, but he’s lazy. He waits for me to reel the fish in.”

  She kept up the questions about Howard and fishing for another few minutes. It was nearly full dark by then and she could no longer spot the cuts she’d made in the trees. But that faint shooshing sound of water got her the rest of the way.

  They broke from the trees farther down the bank from the plane than where she’d gone in. But the plane was still there.

  The sky overhead was even redder once they moved out from under the forest canopy. And thick black clouds of smoke swam in the air a few miles away.

  James let out a low whistle. “That’s closer than I expected.” His voice shook a little.

  Ben tightened his hold on Howard and grabbed his grandfather’s hand again.

  “Plane’s waiting,” she said, trying to draw their attention away from the approaching fire.

  They all jogged the last few yards.

  “Okay, this is going to be a tight squeeze.” She directed most of her instructions to Ben. You’ll need to hold Howard tight and squeeze in just behind the pilot’s seat. There’s just enough room there for the two of you. James, I apologize for this ahead of time, but I’ll need to sit in your lap. This will be awkward and a little difficult, but I’ll get us back to the landing field. Okay?”

  James held her gaze, then looked at the fire, then down at his grandson. “Okay, buddy, let’s go.”

  James climbed into the plane first. Andy left the first aid kid and fire blankets on the shore, so Ben would have room behind the seat where the gear had been stored. She handed him and Howard up the ladder to James, who got him squeezed into the narrow nook behind the seat. Once Ben was settled, she climbed up and awkwardly climbed onto James’ lap, sitting between his legs as best she could. The position put her too far forward. It was going to make flying really tricky. But better this than leaving them behind.

  “Sorry for the tight space,” she said. Switching on the engine, a brief moment of sputtering worry, and then the engines caught and whirled to life. “Hold on tight.”

  She dropped the headset over her ears and radioed the tower. “Got two new passengers⁠—”

  “Three!” Ben said.

  “Sorry, two humans and a crocodile. Ready to head back, Tower. How’s it looking?”

  “Fire’s moved closer to your location,” someone who wasn’t Brenda answered. He gave her new flight coordinates to get her back to the strip. “How’s your fuel?”

  She considered her gages as she puttered the plane onto the lake, lining it up so she had enough room for a takeoff, and made a rough mental calculation with the added passenger weight but no water in the hold and taking the altered flight plan into consideration.

  “It’ll get us back,” she said. Might be close. But they’d get there. Even if she had to glide them in on fumes.

  Tower acknowledged.

  Andy shouted to Ben and James over the engine noise, “Here we go. Hold on to your stomachs.”

  She gunned the little plane, and it skimmed across the water, launching into the air just as the far shore approached. Ben shouted in triumph, which made Andy grin.

  “Don’t worry, Howard,” Ben told his stuffed crocodile. “We’ll be safe soon.”

  “Be back on the ground and safe before you know it,” she assured.

  And turned the plane toward the airstrip, the fire’s red glow bright behind her.

  5

  Andy radioed in the names of her two accidental passengers, and the contact details for Ben’s mom so she’d know her family was safe. Crosswinds on the landing at the airstrip made getting the little plane down tricky, but the extra passenger weight helped. The fuel gage was yelling at her on finally approach, but there was just enough to get them through the landing. The engines sputtered and died before she could taxi the plane to the refueling area, though, so it needed a tow to get it out of the way.

  The airfield, lit by bright halogen lamps, still teamed with chaos, coming and going, another support plane taking off the minute Andy’s plane was out of the way. And another plane lined up and took off minutes after that. The whoosh and roar of the small planes, the darkness, the shouted sounds of ground crew… So familiar. Even if it had been a long time.

  She got James and Ben to the offices, where Brenda and a young man, who turned out to be an EMT, waited. The young man whisked James and Ben off for a quick exam, to ensure no injuries or damage from smoke inhalation—despite James protests that they were both fine. But Ben wanted Howard the crocodile examined for injuries, and the EMT agreed that was a good idea, so James relented.

  Before they left though, James clasped Andy’s hand, giving it a hard shake. “Thanks for getting us out. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “Not necessary. I’m glad you and Ben are safe.”

  “And Howard,” Ben said.

  “And Howard,” Andy added.

  James gave her a little wink, then followed the young medic to a side office Andy assumed was an exam room.

  “Wouldn’t have recommended the side trip,” Brenda said, her gaze on the closed exam room door. “But glad you did it.”

  “Me too.” She faced Brenda. “Still need me to make another run?” Even as she asked, the roar of a third plane taking off rumbled the windows.

  “Road block cleared and our three backup pilots made it in. Could always use more help. But we’re good now.” She nodded at the closed door. “You’ve had an eventful night.”

  “Did you reach the mother?”

  “She’s on the way. Be here in probably another hour.”

  “They good to wait here?”

  “Sure. I think I can scrape up some crocodile food somewhere around here.”

  Andy chuckled. “Since you’ve got the qualified people here now, I’ll leave the work to the experts. I have a retirement party to get to in San Diego.”

  Brenda nodded, and somewhat to Andy’s surprise, didn’t ask any follow up questions. “I assume you wouldn’t turn down a ride back to your car?”

  “You’d assume correctly.”

  Brenda smiled, a gentle look that didn’t last long, and signaled to one of the people standing over the giant paper map. “Devon here will get you back.” She stretched out a hand. “Thanks again. For everything. Saved some lives today.”

  Andy returned the woman’s handshake firmly, and forced down the memories of the lives she hadn’t saved. Maybe this helped make up for it. At least a little.

  “Enjoy the retirement party,” Brenda said. “Stay safe out there.”

  “You too.” Andy gave her a look as Brenda handed her back her backpack.

  “I’m not the one flying over the tops of burning trees anymore. But I’ll pass your well wishes on to the pilots that are.”

  The ride back to her Jeep took a lot less time than her jog up to the airfield. As Brenda had said, the roadblock had cleared and there were only a few cars passing on the way out of the area. No one on the side heading toward the fire.

  Her Jeep was where she’d left it. She was a little surprised to find a note on the windshield from the older man who’d had the CB radio, telling her he’d waited by her car until the traffic had all cleared off, and he hoped everything had worked out. His name was also Ben. She smiled and tucked the note into her backpack.

  Behind the wheel, the engine quietly humming, she considered her destination. She’d been dreading the retirement party for her former commander. She hadn’t seen him since she left the Air Force, since she’d lost two students during a test flight and hadn’t felt she could continue teaching. The mistakes weren’t hers directly, but she’d still felt responsible.

  Being inside a plane again today had brought back a lot of the old feelings. The guilt. But also the rush of taking control and doing what she knew she was capable of doing.

  Colonel Avery had tried to talk her out of taking early retirement and leaving the Air Force all those years ago. He’d accused her of quitting. Of walking away.

  She didn’t walk away today.

  She’d wanted to make his party—he’d been her biggest mentor—but she hadn’t wanted to face the past, or rehash old arguments.

 

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