Catherine Lanigan - Rescued By The Firefighter

“Miss Beatrice!”

“Don’t move, Eli! I’m coming to get you!”

“I’m scared!” He started to take a step.

She kept running, dodging puddles of smoldering pine nettles, hoping her sneakers didn’t melt from the heat. Even if they had, she wouldn’t have stopped. Nothing would stop her. She had to save Eli.

Fortunately, Eli was wearing a long-sleeved sweatshirt. Even in the heat of the day, Eli always claimed he was cold. She didn’t doubt it. He was so thin. The kind of thin that broke her heart and made her want to cook his favorite dish, spaghetti, for him—at every meal.

He also wore jeans and high-top sneakers. Eli never went anywhere without his high-top sneakers. He was determined to become a basketball player in the NBA someday, and though he was of average height for his years, he was the kind of kid who would “think” himself tall.

This was Eli’s third week at camp, which was due to the good graces and hard efforts of Zoey Phillips, the director of Indian Lake Child Services.

Eli and his brother, Chris, who was ten, were new to foster care. Their father had recently been sent to prison for drug dealing. Their mother had simply abandoned them in an upstairs apartment over an antiques store on Main Street. She’d told the boys she was going out for groceries, but three days later, she hadn’t come back. It was Eli who had called the police, hoping they could find his mother.

His brother’s call had angered an already resentful Chris. Chris had an iceberg-sized chip on his shoulder. He’d worshipped his father and copied his arrogance and cocky attitude.

From their first day in camp, Chris had posed one problem after another to Beatrice and her counselors. Beatrice believed the boys needed— craved —attention and caring. Eli was bright and genuinely a good kid. Chris rattled her nerves from breakfast to lights out. She was amazed the two were genetically linked. Bruce had tried to get through to Chris, but Chris had so far only stonewalled him. Beatrice believed Chris’s heart was broken, but she hadn’t the first idea what kind of glue would mend him.

Once the boys left her camp, Beatrice feared she would never see Eli or Chris again once the system sent them to a proper foster home. They’d likely be split up and sent out of the county.

As the flames jumped from tree to tree, Beatrice kept her eyes on Eli and his outstretched arms. She leaped expertly over a burning log, miraculously evading the flames. She kept running.

“Stay still,” she warned as she drew closer to Eli.

The fire had made daylight of the forest. It was hard to imagine that it was night. Flames shot out of forty-foot-tall dead pine trees that should have been felled years ago.

A pine tree about seventy yards away exploded like a cannon. The sound frightened Eli so much that his feet left the ground when he jumped.

“Miss Beatrice! Help me!”

She continued toward him but an enormous branch swooped through the air with a hissing sound and thudded in front of Beatrice.

She slammed to a stop before falling over the branch. The smell of it was pungent. The odors of pine, flame and smoke mingled to form a forbidding fragrance.

Like flaming needles, the sparks from the logs shot into the air and seared the skin on her arms.

She simply brushed them off, not feeling a thing.

Everything about her had turned to ice, except her heart. It was beating through her chest as if it knew she was going to die this night, and had to beat its last moments as hard and powerfully as it could to make up for all the years she would lose.

Eli’s face was covered in tears and snot when she finally reached him. She scooped him into her arms and crushed his face into the crook of her neck. “I’ve got you now,” she said comfortingly. “Nothing bad will happen to you.”

“You promise?” His voice was muffled as he burrowed his head into her throat.

“I do.”

“How can you promise? We’re both going to die.”

“No, we won’t,” she said sternly. “Didn’t you just see me jump?”

“Huh?”

“I was state champion in high hurdles for my girls’ team in high school.”

He hugged her tightly. “I’m sorry for this.”

“It’s not your fault, Eli,” she said. “But you shouldn’t have been out here. That’s why we tell you to stay in your cabins at night. The forest can be dangerous.”

He lifted his face from the shelter of her neck. “I’m sorry,” he repeated.

She looked around. “The fire is getting stronger. You hang on to me and I’ll get us back.”

“I can walk,” he protested.

“ No . And I mean it. You stay with me. Understand?” She had him in her arms. There was no way she would let him go. For this moment, she felt in control, though her brain told her that she had just done about the most unthinkable act of her life.

The heat of the flames had increased, and perhaps she was allowing her senses to register something beyond her fears for Eli. She finally felt the burns on her arms, but she willed away the pain. She lifted her foot to start back to the camp when a second tree blew up.

This time she was the one to jump. She rocked back on her heels. Cinders filled the air. Branches flew overhead and landed behind her. When the pieces hit the ground, the earth shook beneath her feet like an earthquake.

Eli screamed. The sound of his terror clanged in her head like discordant and mournful bells.

She realized that she didn’t hear the sirens any longer. Had the trucks arrived? Or had it been her imagination all along that they were on their way? Had she imagined the dispatcher’s words? What other mistakes had she made in this nightmare? Would she be Eli’s hero or the cause of his death?

From somewhere, she found a thread of solid strength that bolted up her spine and empowered her arms. She pulled Eli close to her chest. “We’re going to make a run for it,” she said decisively.

“We can’t leave...”

“What? Why?”

“We have to find Chris.”

CHAPTER THREE

RAND NELSON PULLED his fire engine to a stop in front of the camp and stared over the steering wheel in disbelief at what he was seeing: a woman running toward the fire.

“No way in...”

He jumped out the driver’s door, his heavy leather-booted feet hitting the ground with a thud. He grabbed his thermoplastic helmet off the console, then his goggles and pigskin gloves.

The massive Indian Lake fire engine pulled up behind him, Captain Bolton quickly exiting the truck and assessing the situation.

Bolton quickly dispensed orders to the team, though every man knew their tasks. Extensive, in-depth training and experience had taught the Indian Lake crew how to manage and overpower forest fires big and small.

“Was that a woman? Running into the fire?” Rand asked Captain Bolton.

“You’ve got to be kidding. Where?” Captain Bolton spun around to follow Rand’s extended arm as he pointed into the worst section of burning trees and brush.

“That blonde woman. Right there.” Rand put on his goggles. “I’m going in after her.”

Captain Bolton waved Rand on. Then he quickly went to the large hose lays on the wildland fire engine.

Rand had seen some crazy, reckless acts in his years as a smoke jumper in California, then as a trainer in Boise, Idaho, and now, as a part-time firefighter at Indian Lake Engine #2, but this was a first. He’d heard about people who went back into burning houses to save a family member or a pet. But he’d never seen anyone run into a forest fire.

And why?

Was there someone else out there? Even if there was, the long-haired blonde should have left the rescue to the professionals. She wasn’t wearing a Nomex suit like he was. Or a helmet, boots and gloves. Didn’t she know that the heat alone could boil her skin? Set her hair on fire? And why wouldn’t she at least tie that long hair up?