Sweater Weather

Chapter 6

Seven months earlier

Seven months earlierSean Marcus had a knack for impossible situations. So far, he’d survived—usually by the skin of his teeth. But right now, in the Big Canyon Wilderness with the entire world seemingly on fire, he wasn’t worried about himself. Only one thing mattered: keeping his crew alive.

He squinted over his shoulder at the towering plumes of black smoke. This wildfire moved like nothing Sean had ever seen. Two minutes ago, he thought they had at least a half hour to get to the black. But the way this thing was eating through the forest, the Fighting Scorpion Hotshots didn’t stand a chance of outracing it. Especially when they were already exhausted from three days of backbreaking line work. They’d saved an entire subdivision of two hundred families. But if they didn’t get out of here fast, this would be his last impossible situation.

He gave a quick glance at the terrain around them. A thickly wooded ravine to the east, a sheer rock face to the west. The cliff face could provide some shelter against the blast of oncoming flames. This was it. Their best chance, right here. Quick head count. All twenty members of his crew here and accounted for.

“We’ll deploy here,” he called. Panic flashed across the grimy faces of his fellow firefighters. None of them had ever been in a situation like this—trapped behind the line with a forest fire marching toward them. It was every hotshot crew’s worst case scenario. They trained for it, of course, but the fear, the dread, the relentless advance of towering black smoke, the particulate matter swirling through the air, the animal need to flee—how could you ever really be prepared?

“Get those shelters out,” he shouted over the rumble of the approaching firestorm. Josh Marshall, his best friend on the crew, stood staring at the monstrous blaze as if he were hypnotized. Sean had never seen the team jokester speechless before. He reached for Josh’s pack, unzipped the carrying case that held his shelter, and gave him a shove. “Go, Marsh. Now.”

NowAt the sound of his nickname, Josh snapped out of his trance. He shook out the thin aluminum shelter, stepped into it, then dropped to the ground.

His voice hoarse, Sean yelled to the other firefighters, “Stay as close together as you can. Get your face down on the ground. Pin your shelters with your elbows and knees and whatever it takes.”

Within seconds, all the hotshots had disappeared inside their silvery tents—except for one.

Finn Abrams—the rookie—backed away, his eyes wild with terror. “No way in hell,” he yelled at Sean. “I’m not gonna sit here and get burned up!” He turned and bolted for the ravine, which was already smoking from the first licks of flames.

“Finn! Get back here!” Sean started after him. He’d heard of this happening. Firefighters panicking when faced with the prospect of trusting your life to a thin piece of fabric. He’d tackle him to the ground if he had to. Pin him and force that shelter into place.

But Finn kept going as if a demon was on his heels. And maybe there was—Sean felt it nipping at his back with hot bites of sparks.

Something snagged his leg as he passed a shelter. Josh was half in, half out of his tent, arm stretched to grab him. “Get the f**k in your shelter.”

“But Finn—”

“He’s gone!”

A blast of hot air blistered the back of Sean’s neck. He took one last look at Finn, who was still running, stumbling toward the edge of the ravine, and gave a quick prayer that he’d make it somewhere—anywhere—before the fire hit.

He stepped into his shelter and dropped down. He pressed his face against the earth where the air would be the coolest and pulled the material over his head. To fend off the wind generated by the fire, he used his feet and elbows to pin the fabric to the ground.

He was still shifting around when the most intense sound he’d ever heard swept over him. It sounded like the flapping of ten million batwings pummeling the fabric that encased him. Wind shrieked and roared. Sean closed his eyes against the heat, which felt as if it could melt his eyeballs.

“Holy f**k!” Josh shouted from his shelter.

Amazing that they could hear each other over the din of the forest fire. They were trained to pack their shelters close together to reduce exposure to the heat. Being able to communicate with each other was an extra benefit.

“I gotta get out! I don’t want to die in here!”

Sean couldn’t tell who said that, but he read the panic loud and clear.

“Nobody moves!” Sean shouted. “You leave that tent, you will die!”

willNot that he didn’t understand the urge to move. To lie here like this—unable to do anything, trapped inside a claustrophobic cocoon while a fire raged on the other side of it—was excruciating. He understood why Finn had run, because every muscle in his body tensed with the need to do the same thing. Go. Run. Do. Action. That’s what he wanted. That’s what he always wanted. But right now, the only possible action was—none.

Go. Run. DoWell, not exactly none. He could still help his crew.

“When we get out of this, I’m treating everyone to barbecue!” he yelled. “Extra crispy.”

Josh, good man, picked up on his lead. “When we get out of this, I’m asking Emma Watson for a date.”

“The Harry Potter chick?”

Harry Potter“Yeah. She’s hotter than this fire, man.”

“When we get out of this, I’m gonna quit this s**t and be a CPA!” Rollo yelled. “Damn, something just landed on me.”

Sean felt it too. Chunks of flaming debris rained onto his body. He shifted his body to knock the embers off. “Get that s**t off if you can but keep your edges tight, guys.”

A whoosh of sound stopped him cold. “What was that?”

“Tree exploded!” Rollo shouted. “This is f*****g insane!”

“Just hang tight!”

Sean listened in awe to the tornado of noise outside. If the fire weren’t trying to kill him, it would be spectacular. So much sound, so much heat. Was this the closest thing a person could experience to being inside a ball of gas? Inside the sun?

His mind drifted as the moments ticked on. He thought of the Yarnell burnover, in which all except one crew member had died. If he died now, he’d be one more Marcus family fuckup. The troubled kid who never got it together. The angry rebel who left Jupiter Point in disgrace. He would never get a chance to clear his name. Never get a chance to prove himself.

When we get out of this, I’m going back—

When we get out of this, I’m going back—But Hughie forestalled him.

“When we get out of this,” he yelled, panic edging his voice. “I’m gonna propose to Cindy.”

“Good,” Josh called back. “Because if you didn’t, I was going to.”

“Yeah right, you might as well propose to your tent.”

For some reason, that inspired Josh to sing. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…”

“To get through this thing called fire.” Rollo finished off the line. The firefighters laughed, and Sean’s heart clenched with pride. Hotshots were tough. Who else would quote Prince while the world was burning down around them?

When we get out of this, I’m going back to—

When we get out of this, I’m going back to—“How long can this last?” someone yelled.

Sean honestly had no idea. In the Little Venus fire, the burnover had lasted fifteen minutes. That didn’t sound like a long time, but right now, he had no concept of time whatsoever.

“I think I can reach my phone. Anyone dare me to take a selfie?” Josh again. “I want proof for when we get out of this.”

When we get out…

When we get out…“Know what I’m going to do?” Sean said out loud this time. He startled at the realization that he could hear his own voice now. The roar had faded. The heat had lessened, too. It no longer felt like a convection oven on high. Was it safe to look outside? Would a blast of heat suck the air from his lungs?

After waiting for what felt like another eternity, he stuck his head out of the opening.

It looked like night out there. Was it night? Or was it simply the thickness of smoke blocking the daylight? The only illumination came from the flames that still flickered in the charred, smoking wasteland. Tree stumps still burned and sparked, hot sap running down their trunks. Chunks of debris smoldered everywhere. Smoke lay thick on the ground, in the air, drifting, swirling.

But the fire had moved on. And it wouldn’t be back—there wasn’t enough fuel left.

Using his elbows, Sean pulled himself out of the little shelter. He scanned the other tents and saw that everyone had stayed inside. Thank you, Lord. Please let Finn be okay too, wherever he is.

Thank you, LordPlease let Finn be okay too, wherever he is.“Everyone alright?” he called, his voice hoarse. “You can come out now.” One by one, his crewmates poked their heads from their shelters. Streaked black with soot, red-eyed, some tear-streaked.

“What a bunch of beauties, you are,” he said. “They should make a calendar out of us.”

From the shelter next to him, Josh let out a raspy laugh. “Damn, Magneto. Are we even alive? Or is this hell?”

“Good question.” The decimated woodland could certainly pass for hell. Sean turned onto his back and let his head rest on his folded arms. The earth beneath him was warm to the touch. Overhead, twisting masses of gray and black smoke roiled, as if the sky didn’t even exist anymore.

Sean vowed never to take the sky for granted again. Assuming he ever saw it again, of course. They still had a long trek to get out of here.

As he watched, the clouds of smoke shifted to make a hole. Through it, he saw a patch of pristine early evening sky, so perfect it snatched his breath away. And there, right there in the middle, he saw a star twinkling.

No, not a star, he realized. It was too bright to be a star. It was a planet. He recognized it from all the nights he’d spent camping on the fire lines, and from the stargazing app on his phone.

That was Jupiter. The biggest, boldest planet in the sky.

“When we get out of this,” he said, mostly to himself, but also as a kind of public vow, “I’m going back to Jupiter Point.”