Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9 "It was July of 2015—three years ago," Eleanor began. Her eyes filled with a faraway look, like in her mind she was traveling back to that day. "A hiker had spotted a fire way up in the hills. She called 911, and they called us. In five minutes Lucas and the ground team were on board the helicopter—ten firefighters in all. I got them into

the air and fifteen minutes later they were on the mountain, ready to go to work." Lucas picked up from there. "Our job on the ground is to try to contain the fire, stop it from spreading. But when we're way up in a forest or far from roads, we don't have water or hoses—we can't drive our tanker trucks into the wild, and there aren't any fire hydrants. "So we use chain saws and axes and saws to clear away trees and brush, scrape everything away down to the dirt. It's called building a fire line—a dirt path around the fire, maybe two or three feet wide." He picked up his fork again, and drew a circle around what was left of his rice and beans. "We're trying to take away the fuel the fire needs to spread. "A wildfire's like a hungry animal. It feeds itself on things that will burn—trees, brush… that's its fuel. Take away its fuel, and the fire will weaken, then starve."

Like that time at basketball practice, Josh thought, when I hadn't eaten breakfast. He ran himself so hard he almost fainted. Greg practically had to carry him off the court. "Most fires don't give us too much trouble," Lucas went on. "We put them out quickly. And at first, this River Complex Fire didn't worry us so much. Everything was calm. Then came the winds. Hot winds, very strong. They're called Santa Anas." "Diablo winds," Eleanor said softly. Josh shuddered. He knew from taking Spanish what diablo meant. Devil. "The winds whipped up the flames," Lucas said. "In ten minutes the fire had tripled in size. We could see it in the distance, that angry orange glow, getting bigger and brighter. The wind started to pick up big burning embers—chunks of wood and ash. These firebombs were landing all around us. I knew we had to get out of there, and quick.

We radioed for help, and Eleanor came to pick us up." Lucas's words were painting pictures in Josh's mind, pictures scarier than any video. He could see the flames. He could hear the thwack, thwack, thwack of the Huey helicopter and the roar of the wildfire. He could practically feel the hot wind blowing in his face. "The main fire was still about a half mile away. So I was able to land the Huey," Eleanor said. "Lucas and the team got on board. But now the winds were blowing at sixty, seventy miles per hour. Not even the Huey can take off in winds like that. The flames were closing in all around us. We were trapped." Josh's heart hammered. He remembered when he and Mom were riding bikes one time, and a car swerved and hit Mom. She fell off her bike and badly hurt her leg. Josh had never felt so scared! But even if he multiplied that fear by ten, he didn't

think it would come close to how it would feel to be in the middle of a wildfire—with no escape. Lucas's voice dropped down. "In a wildfire like that, all you want to do is run. But when the flames are moving that fast, you usually can't outrun them. You have to try to find a big open space without trees or anything that can burn, like a ball field, or a big parking lot—" "Or a river," Holly interrupted. Eleanor smiled at Holly. "Smart kid. A wide river can work like a fire line. But even that isn't always safe if the fires are too big and the winds are too strong. I've seen flames leap across a river. And the smoke can get so thick…" "So what can you do?" Josh asked. "At that point," Lucas said, "we knew the Huey would be lost. And our only hope was to use our fire shelters. We each keep one strapped to our backpacks, folded in a rectangle cube the size of a shoebox."

He told them how the fire shelters looked like very light sleeping bags or small thin tents. But they were made from fabric that could resist heat up to eight hundred degrees. "You wrap the fire shelter around you, drop onto the ground on your stomach, and hold it tight so the fire doesn't rip it off when it goes over you." Josh's mouth dropped open. "So you lie there… inside the fire?" He squirmed a little in his chair. "That's right," Eleanor said. "And the fire shelters work?" Mom asked. "Most times," Lucas said. "But you have to make sure you're in a spot that's clean—just dirt or rock, no plants or grass around you that can burn. Because if the fire gets underneath you, the shelter will melt. Or even with just a small gap, the wind will tear off the shelter, and the hot gases…" Everyone was very quiet for a moment.