Page 15 of Fight
She jabs a finger to her chest and grins. “Prescott.”
The names click in my mind, and I hang my head and nod.Fucking duh. “Scottie… short for Prescott. Got it.”I’m a dumbass. When I glance back up, her smile widens.
She lifts her chin, gesturing toward the smoking hills. “Forestry, huh?”
“Firefighter.” I shrug. “I probably should have clarified, but anytime you say firefighter, people think of, well,yourfirefighters, and then it leads to more questions about wildfire and?—”
She holds up a hand. “No need to explain. It’s the same reason I didn’t say EMT. I was hoping to avoid the ‘What’s the worst thing you’ve ever seen?’ interrogation.”
Guess neither of us are big fans of talking about work. A silence settles between us, and Scottie’s gaze darts left to right. “So, was there something you needed or…”
Already getting the shove off.Cool.“No, I just got done telling Matt that we’ve got some storms coming in, and since I was here, thought I’d introduce myself to the new guy, but it seems we’ve already been introduced.”
Rubbing the back of my neck, I glimpse behind me and notice our crew still setting up tents. “See those guys over there?” I point. “They’re a bunch of assholes. So if they give you any trouble, let me know.”
“So far, you’re the only one giving me trouble.” She cocks her head to the side with a friendly smile.
“And I hope to keep it that way. I gotta get set up, but have a good rest of your day,Prescott.” I turn on my heel, returning toward camp.
She chuckles. “You too.” The door of the ambulance snicks closed behind me. I shake my head.What are the fucking odds?
On my way back, I pull out my phone and shoot off a text just as raindrops start to fall.
Maybe we can still grab that dinner after all.
The fire camp looks like a ghost town, save for all the tents. Matt and I have spent the last two and a half hours getting rocked side to side as gusts of wind slam against the rig. At first, it was almost comical watching these guys try to set up their tents while getting pummeled with sheets of rain. One guy even had his rain fly ripped out of his hands. It flew up into the air, and neither of us saw it come back down. Another guy didn’t have a tent, just rolled himself in a tarp. It must be miserable out there. I fan my fingers in front of the heat vents, grateful to be warm and dry.
Eventually, the crews got inside their tents, and we haven’t seen a soul since. The wind and rain have eased up some, but according to radar, this thing isn’t done kicking our asses yet. Until then, Matt and I have been hanging out in the cab trying to pass the time, and we’re growing bored. We’ve done a couple training drills in the back. He tested me on where everything is located; I could do it with my eyes closed at this point.
“Lefty Lucy is gonna win. I’m tellin’ ya,” Matt says.
“No way. Righty Heidi is about to hit two other drops and power up. You’re gonna get smoked.”
We’ve been racing raindrops down the windshield of theambo since we’ve run out of things to keep us occupied. I’ve won seventeen races. He’s won twelve.
“You’re not gonna catch up,” I tease. My drop hits the windshield wiper first. “Eighteen!”
“You cheat.” He laughs, then leans forward, looking toward the camp, searching for any signs of life. When there’s nothing, he sighs. “Wanna watch another movie?”
I shrug. Matt came prepared with a couple downloaded on his phone. We watched a few yesterday, but they’re all starring Rob Schnieder, and there’s only so much a person can take.
Radio static fills the cab with a division announcement, and we pause our conversation to listen.
“Due to flooding and heavy storms moving in, we’ll be relocating crews to nearby lodging. Resources will be self-sufficient for the first few days, so make sure your crews have everything they'll need. A local summer camp has generously offered to provide dormitories. You will respect the host’s property and not act like degenerates. A radio briefing will be conducted over the command channel at 1900 for crews at the new facility. For now, orders are to wait out the storm. If we don’t get a break in the weather or conditions don’t improve, we’ll start to demob resources. Any questions?”
The corners of my mouth curve into a smile.That means hot showers and a toilet. I lived in my car long enough, I don’t need to live out of an ambulance too.
I can only imagine the bellyaching from the hotshots who boast about being filthy and sleeping on the ground as if it’ll earn them a medal—they’re one of a kind. But seeing how the gravel lot is turning into a mudhole, I’m sure the forest is ten times worse. That should put them in a good mood.
The radio crackles again.
“Copy. Division, can we take the canoes over to the girls’ camp for a sleepover?”
The query is not granted a response from Operations… I assume that one was from one of the hotshots.
Once we receive our orders, Matt plugs in the coordinates to our GPS, and the voice command prompts with our first direction—there’s only one road in or out of this place.
We load up, secure our gear, and strap down the gurneys to prepare for the move. The camp is alive again, disassembling tents, tarps, and loading up folding tables. After a bit, a few hotshots take off in the bulky seafoam-green buggies, and headlights bounce down the gravel exit.