Dave Freedman - Natural Selection

Jason pointed. “Looks like they’re ready too.”

Craig, Lisa, and Phil walked toward them, each carrying two “drip torches,” devices with big black handles and long spouts that look like enormous metal coffee thermoses. They don’t carry coffee. They are heavy-duty, fifteen-gauge aluminum canisters that transport a diesel/gasoline mixture that tiny igniters light to literally “drip” a fire. They are standard issue for fire rangers.

As the three walked closer, Phil eyed the man who refused to even look at him. “Jason, you’ll come with me?” The plan was to drive to different locations, then set multiple fires simultaneously and surround the creature with flames.

“No. I’ll go with Darryl and Lisa. Craig will go with you.”

“Oh, OK.” Phil couldn’t fight the quiet rage in Jason’s eyes. He checked his watch. “We’ll light up in exactly… fifteen minutes.”

Then they entered the SUVs and drove off.

“JASON AND Lisa are sure getting along, huh, Craig?”

Walking rapidly in the forest, Craig didn’t answer Phil Martino. As much as Phil seemed to be trying legitimately to help out now, his betrayal was repugnant and unforgivable. “Where do we set the first fire, Phil?”

“You go to that dried-up fern patch over there.” The area was the size of a typical front lawn, waist height. “I’ll start with these dead rhododendrons.” It was a massive growth, all brown.

Drip torches in hand, they walked in separate directions, then began spilling fiery little drops of fuel. Small flames ignited and grew shockingly fast, from a few inches, to one foot, to ten feet. Craig worried they were in the process of starting a wildfire, but Phil Martino remained calm. He’d done it all a million times before—or a dozen times anyway—and this was perfect. They moved quickly, lighting up everything.

They didn’t notice what was in the trees.

SEVERAL HUNDRED feet high, the creature watched them. On top of a branch as big around as a boardroom table, its wings draping over the sides, the Demonray suddenly smelled scents it never had before. It felt something too, just the slightest tinge of it: heat.

The predator focused on Craig, trying to understand what he was doing.

HEAD DOWN, Craig Summers continued to drop little fireballs everywhere. In minutes, he ignited 1,200 feet of terrain. The fire was already ferociously hot, many flames taller than three stories. Suddenly Craig spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. Something big and white near the treetops. A cloud of smoke? He didn’t have time to dawdle. They had to start the next fire. They sealed up the torches and hustled back to the SUV.

Nothing followed them. The creature was already somewhere else.

GLIDING BELOW the treetops in another part of the forest, the Demonray felt better. There was no hot air here, nor strange smells. Just redwoods, green foliage, and soil.

But then, as it continued, the predator detected the heat again. Only now, it was coming from another direction. In fact, the heat seemed to be coming from all sides.

MONITORING ANOTHER blaze from Redwood Inlet’s embankment, Jason, Lisa, and Darryl watched the flames burn higher, already several stories up and hot as all hell.

Suddenly they noticed movement on the ground. Three dozen squirrels skittered out of the forest and down the embankment.

Jason’s eyes narrowed, watching the rodents go. “This might actually work.”

Lisa nodded. “It really might.”

Darryl said nothing. But as Jason glanced at him, he saw he was watching the squirrels too. And he was smiling.

“ YOU GUYS see anything over there, Craig?” At the controls of the huge Vertol, Darryl waited a moment when his headset crackled a response.

“Nothing at all here.”

Darryl turned to Jason, next to him in the passenger seat. “They got nothing too.”

Jason eyed the yellow Sikorsky, about a quarter of a mile away. “Should we spread out to cover more area?”

Darryl looked down at the massive plumes of black smoke wafting up from the treetops a thousand feet below. “We’re fine here. That thing will come out sooner or later.”

Jason suddenly jerked his head down. “Did you see that, Darryl?”

Darryl was stunned. “Yeah, I did.”

Lisa jolted forward from the bench in back. “Where is it?”

Jason pointed. “Right there.” It was the area between two of the tallest treetops, a few soccer fields apart and belching big puffs of black smoke. “It just popped up then zoomed right back in.”

“Craig.” Darryl adjusted his headset. “Did you guys see that over there?”

Craig and Phil were still leaning forward in their seats, staring at the same smoke-filled gap. “Do we go down after it or keep waiting?”

“Ask Phil how hot it is down there.”

Craig relayed to his passenger. “How hot is it?”

Martino pulled some binoculars to his face. “Well… It looks like all the flames have burned themselves out by now, so it’s probably just really cooking down there.”

“What temperature?”

“A hundred fifty, maybe a hundred sixty degrees.”

“Jesus Christ. Darryl, it could be as hot as a hundred and sixty degrees down there.”

Darryl turned to Jason. “Up to a hundred and sixty degrees.”

“Wow.” Jason eyed the smoldering treetops. “I can’t imagine it surviving that.”

“Want to take a look and make sure?”

Jason looked down again. “Let’s let it fry a little. If it doesn’t come back out in thirty minutes, we’ll go down after it.”

THIRTY MINUTES later, the creature hadn’t returned. There was just thick black smoke—everywhere, the clouds now so big that they were even larger than the trees.

Jason exhaled then turned to Darryl. “Let’s get down there.”

Darryl fingered a lever with his left hand and the jungle-green bird descended, dropping toward a gap in the trees the size of a college football stadium. Suddenly black smoke was swirling everywhere. It was impossible to see, but Darryl Hollis didn’t blink. He descended through the blackness when the smoke abruptly cleared and they entered an eerie, charred world.

Seconds after the Vertol landed, Craig touched down in the Sikorsky. “Thanks a lot, Craig,” Phil said happily.

Summers was stone. “No problem.”

Phil yanked open the door, and suddenly the pilot felt like he might faint. He’d never felt such heat in his entire life. It was absolutely overwhelming. The door closed, and the Sikorsky immediately began rising. While the others searched the forest Craig would stand watch above. As he ascended back into the smoke his last sight was of the four of them sprinting into the superheated smoldering lair. He wondered what they’d find.

EVERYTHING WAS black. The redwoods. The plants. The soil. Even the air. What had once been lively green ferns and big-leafed rhododendrons were now crumpled black skeletons and piles of soot. The redwoods were singed with forty-foot-high black streaks that smelled like charcoal.

And then there was the heat. The heat was fantastic, unlike anything any of them had ever experienced before, hotter than wearing a ski jacket in a sauna. The heat was just phenomenal.

Dripping sweat, Darryl ignored the temperature and ran right into the superheated gloom, his big bow slung over his shoulder.

“Form a circle.”

They did, then slowly walked forward. The entire forest seemed to be smoldering.

At the rear of the circle, Jason saw there wasn’t any fog at all in the treetops, just wispy black smoke and pieces of blue sky. His view leveled. If the predator was still alive, it would have no place to hide here. So where would it be? On the ground? Or up high, where it was cooler? He followed a massive black trunk into the air and realized the Demonray would blend in perfectly with the tree’s new color. He saw nothing unusual. His gaze leveled, sweat pouring down with every step.