Page 57 of The Outpost (Jamison Valley 4)
“No.” I shook my head. “I’m, uh, new to this line of work.” I wasn’t sure if that was the right answer or not but I didn’t dare lie and risk being asked a specific question. I had no idea how a forest fire was
managed.
“Some of the guys on their way here are a little rough around the edges,” Nick warned. “The hotshots are adrenaline junkies.”
“Good to know.” I had never heard of a hotshot crew before so when I looked up to Beau, he grinned before I even had to ask my question.
“Hotshots are special firefighters for forest fires. They get trained differently than Michael’s volunteer firefighters in town. The hotshots program is harder and they get pushed to the max physically. We send them into some rugged country and they’ve got to be able to hike at a fairly fast clip.”
“The fires themselves are different too,” Michael added.
“How so?” My curiosity was running rampant and I wanted to know more, but I also wanted to keep the conversation off of me and my “job” here at the outpost.
“They can be a lot more dangerous,” Beau said. “A forest fire is always changing directions. There aren’t walls to keep it in and the wind plays a huge role in how fast it grows. The firefighters get up close and personal with a burn. If they aren’t paying attention, a fire can overtake them in an instant.”
“That sounds . . . terrifying.” Why any person would want to be around a wildfire was beyond me, adrenaline junkie or not.
“Hopefully, this one won’t be too hard to manage,” Beau added. “I’ll know when I get a closer look.”
“How exactly are you going to get a closer look? You’re not going up there, are you?” I asked him, ignoring the smirk Nick threw Michael.
“Maybe. The fire is in my jurisdiction so I might go up to make sure the crew doesn’t get lost. I was a hotshot for years so I know the drill. We’ll see what happens when they get here.” I did not like Beau’s answer. He reached out and squeezed my shoulder. “This is an easy one. It’s small and the crew should be able to get it under wraps pretty quickly.”
Well then why did he need to go and help? I didn’t ask. I knew the answer. Beau always helped. It wasn’t in his makeup to stand by the wayside.
“What will they do?” I asked him. If he was going up there, I wanted to know exactly what he’d be doing. Not that it would keep me from worrying.
“The crew’s job is containment,” he said. “For a fire like this, we’ll send a plane or a helicopter up to drop a load of retardant around the border. Then the crew will hike up and start digging trenches, lighting backfires and putting out spot fires before they grow. Anything we can do to keep it from moving down the mountain.”
“Yeah, like toward me.”
All the men chuckled but I was serious. I had no desire to be anywhere near a fire and this one was already too close.
Question and answer time was cut short when the sound of vehicles echoed off the trees. Our huddle quickly disbanded as we all walked briskly across the meadow, anxious to greet the approaching crew.
Three oddly shaped trucks squeezed themselves into the open space by the outpost. The front of each sea-foam-green vehicle was shaped like a large truck, but instead of a bed behind the cab, there was a large rectangular box fitted with small windows. They reminded me of beefed-up armored cars, but instead of cash in the back, they were carrying people.
Beau hadn’t been kidding about the physical requirements. Every man that jumped out from the backs of the trucks looked like he could take first place in an Ironman race. I was suddenly conscious of my lack of muscle tone. Everywhere I looked there were ripped biceps, washboard abs and buns of steel.
“Holt!” the driver of one of the trucks called.
Beau stepped away from my side to shake the man’s hand. “Dylan. How are you?” Beau’s tone was as distant and unfriendly as I’d ever heard.
“First fire of the season. We’re pumped!” Dylan clapped his hands together and rubbed them back and forth. The grin on his face was borderline crazy. “Isn’t that right, boys?”
The crowd around the outpost hollered and cheered. Nick had called these guys adrenaline junkies but that may have been an understatement.
“Holt, are you coming up with us?” one of the younger men called.
“Yeah! We could use your help.”
Cheers filled the air as the men begged Beau to go.
He wasn’t going up, was he? It was dangerous and he wasn’t part of this firefighting crew. Didn’t they already have Dylan as a leader?
As the cheers got louder and louder, Beau’s shoulders fell. He held up his hands to quiet the crowd and said, “We’ll see.”
That meant he was going.
