Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 117992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
The corner of Zach’s lip curled up. “Not weird. I know what you mean. I can’t imagine being stuck in an office all day when you could be outside in this instead.”
“Exactly.”
We continued looking up at the afternoon sky for several more minutes before getting up and dusting ourselves off.
“You going to split a funnel cake with me?” Zach asked as we stepped back on the trail to lead us back to the truck.
“Only if you’ll buy my underaged ass a beer,” I said with a raised eyebrow.
He shook his head and tskd. “I guess it’s the least I owe you after leaving you hanging from Cathedral Peak the other day.”
I grinned at him. “Damned straight.”
Chapter 19
Zach
We were almost all the way back to Lucky’s bunkhouse after the Goat Whatever Festival when we got the call that the fire had spread to an unexpected area due to a wind shift.
“There’s a scout group penned in and we need additional help pulling them out of there. The other crews are dangerously past their flying time limits,” Tag said over the handsfree speakers in the truck. He sounded exhausted. “Are you okay to fly?”
I thought about how long it had been since I’d been plagued by migraines and realized I’d had three solid weeks without them, thanks to the new medicine. Thankfully, Lucky and I had only split one craft beer at the festival and it had been hours ago. We’d filled up on fair food too much to stomach any more than that.
“Absolutely. What do you need?”
As he talked me through what he needed me to do, Lucky waved us on toward the hangar. I gave him a questioning look to make sure he was up for joining me, and he responded with an expression that said, “Don’t be an idiot.”
I needed someone else with me in the helicopter, and he was more than qualified for the rescue, not to mention how important it would be to have a paramedic on board if any of the children needed medical care.
It wasn’t until we were loaded up and taking off that I realized Lucky would be the one on the line.
“Do you have your emergency pack?” I asked.
“Yes.”
I ground my back teeth together as I steered us toward the smoke in the distance. “Do you have a spare harness on your belt?”
I felt Lucky shift next to me, but I kept my eyes on the horizon. “Yes.”
My mind rolled through every possible scenario. “Wait. I mean one for you. Not just for the rescues.”
There was a pause before his hand landed on my arm. “Yes. I’m ready.”
“Remember, if anything comes up and you need to abort—”
He squeezed my arm. “Zach. I’ve got this. You need to trust me.”
He was right. Lucky wasn’t Tag’s star pupil for nothing. He was a natural on the line, and at this point he probably had more longline training than some of the newer firefighters who’d been doing this work all day.
I coordinated with Tag over the radio and prepared to set down in a clearing he’d directed us to. Once we were down, Lucky scrambled out to begin preparing the line while I continued to communicate with Tag about the rescue. There wasn’t a spare spotter, so I was going to have to rely on Lucky’s verbal commands to guide me.
Within minutes, we were back in the air, only this time Lucky hung from the line in the dark night sky below as we made our way closer to the fire.
Thankfully, the area where the campers were was large enough that they’d been able to stay safely away from the fire so far. The firefighter crews had already dropped personnel and supplies with the group to help them avoid danger until all of them could be rescued. Because the only option for rescue was using the longline, it was a tedious process of pulling out one or two campers at a time.
We were able to make quick work of it, alternating trips with the other helicopter still actively rescuing members of the same group. Lucky was as steady as could be. His calm, professional voice over the headset assured me that he was handling the challenge even better than I’d hoped.
He was in his element.
And the kids adored him, clinging to him on the line and then letting him distract them from their fear as he told them various jokes and riddles until he untethered them in the drop zone.
By the time we’d collected the last of the scouts and watched the old school bus drive away with the rescued group, Lucky’s eyes were shining out of a face covered in soot and dirt.
Johnny and Tag clapped him on the back and praised him up and down before heading off to the other chopper for their final flight back to the hangar. Lucky and I spent some time silently disengaging the main and auxiliary load lines from the belly band. Since we’d been the last crew in the air, we were the last ones in the clearing near Lake Ellen Wilson that had been used as a staging area for loading the longline. The barest sliver of pink sunrise could be seen at the top edge of Lincoln Peak and the cool night air reminded me that the month of June didn’t mean warm temperatures at this high altitude.