Off Season (10 page)

I tried my door and it hit against something with a thud, opening only a few inches. I pushed harder but it wouldn't give. I looked out the window. There were branches pinning it in place. Ned and Kia had already gotten out their door and I scrambled across the seat, moving around the things that had been thrown forward from the back, and climbed out. It felt good to be out.

The truck had left the road and gone down a hill, plowing out a path in the trees and bush. I scrambled up the incline. Debbie had just gotten out and was standing beside the door,
leaning against the truck.

“Wow, what happened?” Kia asked. I turned around. The road was blocked with trees and rocks and mud. It was like somebody had stolen the road.

“Landslide,” Ned said. “The rain last night must have caused a landslide.”

“But how does the truck get by it?” I asked.

“The truck doesn't. This happens sometimes. They have to send in a bulldozer to clear the way.”

“Then how do we get out? How do we get away from the fire?” I asked anxiously.

“We haven't got much choice. We have to walk out.”

“But it's a long way!” Kia protested.

“The highway isn't that much farther than what we walked yesterday. And as we walk out we'll probably meet the firefighting crew coming in to take care of the blaze.”

“But how will
they
get through the landslide?” I asked.

“Every crew will have heavy earthmoving equipment,” Ned said.

“Have what?” I asked.

“A bulldozer. They almost always … maybe I better radio in to let them know they need one,” Ned said. “You two could go and see
how far the slide goes and if it looks okay on the other side and I'll get my mother to call in our situation.”

Ned started back down for the truck, and Kia walked up to where the road met the slide. I went after her. She was already climbing up and over the rocks that blocked the way.

“Be careful,” I said.

“Yes, Mother,” she said.

I scrambled over the rocks and caught up to her. She was standing on a boulder that had to be half the size of the truck.

“This goes on for a long way,” she said.

I could see what she meant. The whole section of the road was gone. The whole hill on one side had just shifted over and it was like the road had never been there in the first place. I shuddered at the thought of what would have happened if the slide had taken place while we were on that section of the road.

“Even if we could get the truck out of the ditch there's no way it could ever get by this … oh, my goodness,” Kia gasped.

“What is it?” I exclaimed.

She pointed at the landslide.

“I know it's big, but we can walk around it and — ”

Then I saw it too. Up ahead, rising over the hills, there was smoke. There wasn't just a forest fire behind us in the valley. There was something burning in front of us! We were trapped!

“Ned! Debbie!” I screamed as we ran toward the truck.

Debbie was slumped down on the ground, leaning against the back tire of the truck. Ned was inside the truck.

“There's a fire!” Kia yelled as we skidded to a stop.

“She means another fire!” I exclaimed.

Debbie struggled to her feet — what was wrong … was she hurt?

“Where's the fire?” she demanded.

“Down the valley, on the other side of the landslide!” I answered.

She hobbled to the still open driver's side door and leaned in. I rushed to her side. Ned was on the radio.

“Do you copy?” he yelled into the microphone. “Do you copy?”

There was nothing in reply but static.

“It's broken!” he said. He looked and sounded
panicky. “When we crashed it hit against the dashboard … I sent out the message … but I can't get an answer … Maybe they heard me!”

“Hand me the microphone,” Debbie said calmly. She sounded completely opposite to the way Ned sounded — to the way I felt.

“This is Debbie. I'm broadcasting from a position approximately two kilometers south of Ranger Station 27. I don't know if you can hear. There's a fire of unknown size to the north of our position and another to the south. My truck isn't an option for transport … and I'm injured … I think my knee is either dislocated or broken.”

“Broken?” I said softly to myself.

“I don't know if you can hear us … I don't know … our radio is not receiving in-coming messages … I just hope you can hear us. We are in need of help … desperate need. Over and out.”

Debbie put down the microphone and then she slumped over in the seat.

“Mom, are you alright?” Ned asked.

“I'm okay,” she groaned. “My leg is hurting really bad, but I'm okay.”

“What do we do now?” Ned asked. “Should we go back to the house?”

“There's no point, and even if there was I couldn't get back there on this leg.”

“Then what do we do?”

“I need you and Nick and Kia to go up to Summit Rock. Look all around and see the extent of the fire, I mean the fires. You need to see if there's a way out through the next valley.”

“Sure, we'll go right up and have a look and—” Ned stopped. “But even if we can get out, can you make it up that slope on your leg?”

She shook her head. “I don't think so.”

“So what good would it do even if we could get out that way?” Ned asked.

“It would mean that you could lead Nick and Kia through that valley and along the trails until you hit the highway.”

We could do that. It was a long walk, but as long as we were moving away from the fire I'd be alright with that.

“And what about you?”

That was right, what about Debbie? There was no way she could make that climb. She could hardly walk.

“I'd wait here until the fire crew arrives,” she said.

“You want us to just leave you here?” Kia asked in disbelief.

“I'll be just fine.”

“I'm not leaving you here!” Ned snapped.

“You have to. Kia and Nick could never find their way to the highway without your help.”

“I'm not leaving you!” Ned protested again. “You're hurt.”

“I'm not hurt that badly. It's just my leg.”

“We're not just walking away,” Ned said.

“I'll be fine here … I'll just wait right here until help arrives.”

Ned nodded his head. “You're saying you'll be fine if you stay here … right?”

“Of course I will,” she said reassuringly.

“In that case it's settled,” Ned said.

“You mean we're leaving your mother here?” I asked. That just didn't sound right.

“No. It's settled that I'm not leaving. I'll wait right here for them too.”

“No, you're not!” Debbie protested. “Kia and Nick need you to lead them away to safety.”

“I thought it was safe here,” Ned said.

Debbie didn't answer.

“Ned, I'm your mother and I'm ordering you to — ”

“You can give all the orders you want. I'm not abandoning you here.”

“Nick and Kia need you.”

“No we don't,” I said.

Everybody looked at me in disbelief. “You think you can find your way out of here alone?” Kia asked.

“Of course not. It's just that Ned isn't going to leave his mother and neither are we.”

“I agree,” Kia said.

“But you have to!” Debbie protested.

“We're not going anywhere without you,” Ned said. He sounded calm and in control. “And you can yell at me all you want. It isn't going to change anything. I'm not leaving you here.”

“Correction,” Kia said. “
We're
not leaving you here. Period. End of discussion.”

“Look, I don't want to argue — ”

“There's no point in arguing,” Ned said, cutting his mother off.

“I just want you to know — all of you to know — just how serious this is,” she said.

“We know it's serious,” I said.

“I don't think you do. We're in danger, real danger. I think we'll be okay but there are no guarantees. Fires are unpredictable. We could get caught up in it. We could … we could — ”

“Die?” I asked.

She nodded her head.

I took a deep breath. “I know. We all know.”

“You should all get out of here while you still have a chance,” Debbie said.

“Maybe we should,” Ned said, “but we're not going to.”

“We're not going anywhere,” Kia added.

“We're all staying together,” I said.

Debbie didn't answer right away. She looked like she was thinking through what she was going to say next.

“None of you are going to listen to me, are you?” she finally asked.

“We'll listen to you,” Ned said. “We just aren't going to leave you. What should we do now?”

“There's nothing much we can do,” she said. “We have to wait … although this probably isn't the best spot to wait.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“We need to find the most open piece of ground we can find, away from trees and bush, preferably close to water.”

“Like the basketball court,” Kia said.

“The basketball court would be perfect,” Debbie said, “except it's pretty far from here.”

“It's not that far. It can't be much more than a kilometer,” I said.

“There's no way I can walk that far. I can barely stand.”

“Don't worry. You won't have to walk,” Ned said.

“I need to stop,” I said.

“Me too,” Ned agreed.

Gently we lowered the branches, setting Debbie down on the ground. She was lying on a rough-made sling that Ned had built out of two long branches and a cover from one of the seats of the truck. The cover was strung between the two long poles, one on each side. Ned and I each held the end of one of the poles while the other end dragged along in the dirt. It was hard work — incredibly hard work — but we were making progress, dragging her along the road toward the spot where the trail led down to the court.

Kia was carrying the three cages holding the animals. They weren't as heavy as dragging Debbie, but they were pretty awkward to carry.

While Ned had been building the sling, both Kia and I had been working too. Debbie had insisted that she wasn't leaving all the family pictures behind in the truck. She had us put all the photo albums in a big blue plastic box, snap the lid shut and then
bury
it. She said that even if the fire passed this way it would
still survive.

Ned was looking back in the direction we'd just come from. I turned around and was shocked by the sight. The whole sky was now black with smoke.

“It's moving fast, isn't it?” I said, although I was less asking a question than stating the obvious.

“Fast.”

“Are we moving faster than it?”

He shook his head. “I don't know … I can't tell.”

“Then maybe we better get moving again.” I stood up and Ned got to his feet too.

“Lift on three,” Ned said.

I grabbed one branch and he grabbed the second.

“One … two … and three.”

I strained under the weight but we lifted Debbie off the ground. We started moving again.

“You want to trade?” Kia said. “Maybe in a while,” I replied.

“I feel so bad,” Debbie said. “Maybe I could get up and limp along for a while again.”

“You just stay right there!” Kia warned her. “We can move faster this way.”

Debbie had tried to walk before and we had actually moved
slower
.

“We'll get there,” I said, more to myself than Debbie. It was hard, and she was heavy, but somehow having a fire coming up through the forest behind gave me a burst of energy.

We set the sling down for the last time under the tree that held one of the nets. The last part of the trip, through the berry bushes, had been downhill, so the going had been a little bit easier.

There was now more than just the smell of smoke; there was a faint haze that hovered in the air.

“I need something to drink,” Kia said. She'd placed the three cages in the middle of the court.

We walked over to the little creek. The court still looked good, though the corner beside the creek had been further eroded by the rush of water during the storm. The creek had receded somewhat, but it was still much higher than normal. I stopped at the water's edge, bent down and cupped my hands to get a drink. The water was freezing cold and delicious as it slid down my throat. I didn't think I'd ever tasted anything as good.

Kia waded into the water. She stopped when it was knee-deep on her. That looked like a good idea. I stepped in and the cold, clear
water surrounded me. I splashed the water up onto my face and arms.

I looked back at the scene. Ned was sitting beside his mother at the edge of the court. Behind them, the hill sloping up was filled with small bushes. Behind that, the sky was dark, filled with thick black clouds of smoke rising up out of the trees. I looked over my shoulder. Beyond the creek the cliff was steep and rocky and covered with moss and grass and shrubs and stunted trees. There wasn't much to burn, so the cliff protected us from that direction. Protected us and trapped us.

“You scared?” Kia asked.

“What do you think?”

“Me too,” she said. “I guess there's nothing to do but wait.”

“I hate waiting. I just hate it!” I snapped.

“I know,” she said, nodding her head. “You always want to get the game started.”

I scoffed. “The game … think about all the times we've stood on the sidelines of a basketball court, about all the games we've played and how important we thought they were. How we'd spend all that time thinking about the game, worrying, losing sleep — ”