Chapter Seven
Graham
“Do what?” I asked.
“Toss me that chainsaw.”
“I’ll hand you the chainsaw,” I said dryly as I glanced over at Russell.
He rolled his eyes. “Fine. I didn’t figure you’d be throwing the chainsaw.”
I hefted the lightweight chainsaw and handed it over to him. We were working on clearing an empty lot and creating a giant pile of debris to burn. Planning ahead to manage fire-risk wilderness was part of being a hotshot firefighter. It was good for training and smart planning. Alaska was on the other side of decades of spruce bark beetle kill, which had wiped out swaths of the forests. We routinely cleared and had planned burns in areas to prevent fires from getting out of control.
We were still hiring for this crew and were up to ten so far. Today, I was out with Russel
