“Who’s missing?” Joe demands as he strides across the square toward me. He has just finished helping an elderly couple into a people carrier that is equipped for their wheelchairs, his face glistening with sweat from the exertion and the heat that’s already filling the air.
“I don’t know,” I mutter, tracing my finger along the names. There are a few missing, but the addresses and names are handwritten and difficult to read, and I can’t make out exactly what they’re meant to say. That’s the problem with small towns like this one; they rely on records kept by people who never thought they would actually come to mean anything, which means that we’re left sifting through impossible-to-parse pages when we need them most.
“Are you looking for someone?”
A voice cuts through my distraction, and I look up to see Margaret, the owner of the town grocery store, standing before me. She’s been running that place for as long as I can remember, and judging by the badge affixed to her shirt, she’s still doing it now.
I nod. “You know something?”
“I saw the Brown girl heading off in the direction of her place,” she replies, jerking her head toward the East side of the city. “She’s got a little house on the edge of town now, not far from where the fire is…”
I mutter a curse under my breath.
Before I can say a word, Carlisle is at my side. “She didn’t hear the announcement about getting out of the East side?”
“It’s her family home,” Margaret shoots back. “You can’t blame her for it.”
Carlisle and I exchange a glance. We both know what needs to be done. We can’t risk anyone being left in this town, let alone so close to the fires. Whatever she was thinking when she decided to return to her home, it doesn’t matter. She has to get out.
And if we have to drag her ourselves, then so be it.
“Thanks, Margaret,” I tell her, gesturing for her to get on one of the buses which are waiting to whisk the populace out of town. “Stay safe, alright?”
She nods, scrambling onto the bus without another word. I’m beyond relieved that everyone seems to be taking this seriously, apart from…well, the Brown girl, whoever that might be.
I know exactly what Carlisle is thinking, even if neither of us will say it out loud, even if it’s the last thing that should be on our minds in this moment. We both remember the night we spent with Angelie Brown, on the evening before she left for college, in the weeks before everything changed for good. That night has been burned into my brain ever since, a part of me unable to forget the way it felt to be with her for her first time, even if we’ve never seen each other since.
“Okay, let’s get over to the East side and get her out,” Carlisle announces, gesturing for Joe and Dylan to join us. They close ranks, and he swiftly fills them in on the matter at hand. Neither of them let it show on their faces, but I can tell from the slight tension that rises in Dylan’s shoulders and the cool expression on Joe’s face that they’re thinking it too.
Is it her? Could it be her? She left this town, as far as we know—it could just as easily be her sister there instead. Whoever it is,what matters is getting them the fuck out of here in any way we can, and that means making a move, now.
“In the van,” Joe orders, striding over to our vehicle. “We have respirators, hoses, water?”
“Ready to go,” I reply, following him. We’re still waiting on the arrival of the full complement of fire trucks, but we have enough to contain the worst of the fire for now. If we can keep it from reaching the town, that will be a victory. I can smell the sharp, acrid stench of smoke in the air, and for the first time in a long time, I feel my stomach tense at the thought of what we’re walking into.
Though, to be fair, that might have more to do with her than anything else.
We scramble into the van and take off through the abandoned streets to the East side of Devin Ridge; one good thing about this going down in a place we know well is that we don’t have to stop to look at the map. Joe, who’s driving, knows this town like the back of his hand, same as the rest of us do. It might have been a while since we set foot here, but muscle memory never fades, no matter what might have happened between then and now.
And God knows I’ve experienced enough for a whole lifetime since I left this place.
Finally, we pull up to a small contingent of houses that sit on the East side of town. A young woman, who I half remember as Angelie’s little sister, leaps out onto the road to flag us down.
“Help, please!” she yells out. “My parents and my sister are in there—and so are the children…”
The words seem to falter on her tongue when she realizes that we are the ones coming to her rescue. For an instant, I find myself wondering if Angelie ever said anything to her sister about what happened between us, but I brush it aside. I can’t think about the past right now, can’t let my mind go there for a second. I have bigger things to worry about for the time being, and as Joe screeches to a halt, I know that the others are on the same page.
Carlisle throws open the door of the van, grabbing a handful of respirators and tossing one to me. I place it over my head, securing it in place. The smoke might not seem too bad right now, but long-term exposure to this kind of thing is only going to end in disaster.
“Nathalie, right?” I greet the young woman. She nods. I jerk my head back toward the vehicle.
“Get inside,” I tell her. “Joe will get you up to the muster point…”
She does as she’s told at once, clearly glad not to have to stick around for another moment. Carlisle and Dylan follow me toward the house as Joe guides Nathalie toward the van—the sooner we can get people out of here, the better.
The fire is audible now. Loud cracks of tree boughs breaking and dropping to the forest floor punctuate the air as I hammer on the door of the house. A second later, it flies open, and before me stand an older couple—they must be Angelie’s parents.
“Go to the van!” I insist, stabbing a finger over my shoulder. “Now!”
