He shakes his head. Using strength I didn’t know he still had, he grips my shirt with his fists and hauls my ear close to his face so his lips are pressed against it.
“Some things are bigger than you and me. You can’t do this one alone.”
No. He doesn’t know what he’s asking. I’ve never been able to rely on anyone but me. I’m not leaving him here to die, and he’s not sacrificing himself just so I’ll live.
“You have to go,” he says again. “Please.” He’s begging now, and my eyes well with tears. They burn at the corners.
“I can’t lose you too,” I say to him.
I’ve lost enough friends to last a lifetime.
“You won’t,” he says back.
In all the pain he’s in, he actually smiles at me.Smiles. A look that breaks my heart in half.
But what he doesn’t know is that our escape route has already closed off. There’s no way out for either of us.
It’s an out-of-body experience, learning you’re going to die. There’s nothing left to tether you to the ground. Everything is finite, nothing invincible. So, you give yourself over to fate. Hope it won’t hurt like hell when you finally let go for good.
That’s the last shred I’m hanging on to. Hope that Dean and I are supposed to walk away from this. That we have a purpose we’ve yet to fulfill. It’s the only thing carrying me through the motions of deploying the one piece of five-pound equipment I hoped I’d never have to use.
I start with his line pack first, shaking it to the rightand stripping his fire shelter from the case at the bottom. Gripping the handle on the end, I pull off the outer box, rip off the red Velcro that secures the whole thing in a tight bundle, slip it out of the plastic bag, and fling it in the air. The bright green cocoon unfurls as I shake it to its full length.
I drag it over to his body. It’s less than ideal in every way. He’s supposed to be facing the ground so the radiant heat doesn’t blister his airway. If that happens, the passage in his nose will swell enough that it won’t matter. He’ll no longer be able to breathe.
I consider the other unfortunate part of this situation: I’ll never be able to cover his whole body.
But nothing about this situation is ideal. We’re out of options.
I tuck his arms close and tilt him to the side so his nose is near the dirt. Then I wrap the tarp around as much of him as I can in a matter of twenty-five seconds. When I know he’s somewhat secure, I deploy my own.
I have no idea if this will work but I dive into my shelter anyway, wrapping the edges around his exposed calf and ankle that stick out beneath the log next to me. I lie flat as a pancake with my face pressed to the earth, wrapping my right hand around his foot and squeezing once to let him know I’m still here.
In less than ten seconds the aluminum and silica fibers rattle with the wind, the sound like a freight train inches from my ear.
I’m having a difficult time not doubting that this piece of foil can withstand the two thousand degrees of radiant heat it was designed for.
I’ve done a lot of dangerous shit in my life, but never anything that left me feeling as scared as I do right now. I’ve only ever had to worry about myself.
The gritty smell of dirt is the last sense I register before ahighlight reel takes me deep into the recesses of my mind and away from our reality. All the things I’ve ever wanted to say to the people I love surface.
Dad, I know we’re fundamentally different, you and me. You’re strong and steady, and I’m the waves in the sea carrying you to places you didn’t ask to go. But all the good parts of me, the way I was able to show up for this team all summer, they came from you. You are the anchor of our family, and I never told you that enough.
Miles and Teddy, you are my greatest memories. You both drifted into my life when I needed you. Because of you two, I’ll always know what it’s like to grow. I’ll never regret our time together. It taught me how to love. But I’ve held on for as long as I can, and while I know I’ll always carry a part of you with me, it’s time to let go.
Dean, you are the epitome of my greatest teacher. Thank you for taking a stubborn, selfish kid like me and molding him into someone who’s learning to slow down enough to open up and let people in.
Jack, I’ll never understand what it is that you saw in me at that campsite all those years ago, but I believed in myself because of you. It got me here, and I hope I made you proud this summer.
And Hailey—pelting drops—you changed my world—melting heat—you showed me home—letting go—I fell in love with you.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
HAILEY
Inever knew fire could burn a heart to ash without ever touching it.
In my dad’s arms, the devastation works its way up my chest. It expels from my lungs in a wail, but I don’t care. I’m already hurting, so I let myself imagine them—a vivid daydream that plays out in front of me.
