He lifted his nose in attention as I swung open the refrigerator and began flinging turkey slices all over the floor. That did the trick. The Saint Bernard’s stomach took precedence over his survival instincts and he followed the processed meat like a duck waddling after a trail of breadcrumbs. I led him straight to the foyer where Sweetpea was waiting, and attached a leash to his collar. Ushering the boys outside and into my car, I caught sight of the fire, the orange glow closer than I could have imagined.
A firefighter entered through the front gate and jogged up the circular driveway.
“There’s no time,” he called to me. “You need to evacuate now. How many are in the house?”
“Just me.”
“Do you need help?”
“No, I’m leaving in a minute.”
“Alright, I’ll open the security gate for you. Be quick.”
“I will.”
He slid open the fence for me before taking off for the neighbor’s property. I shut the car door on the dogs and went back into the house in search of Lucy. I hadn’t seen her since the phone rang and now she could be anywhere. If I thought Hercules was tough to lure out of hiding, Lucy would be nearly impossible.
I called her name repeatedly, checking the most obvious places first but the cat was nowhere to be found. With every bed I looked under and every closet I checked, the likelihood I’d find her before being forced to evacuate were diminishing.
“Lucy,” I called to her, tears stinging my eyes. “Please don’t make me leave you.”
But she didn’t answer or magically appear, and I’d run out of time. An explosion rocked the ground and smoke wafted through the house. The increased intensity of the situation no doubt had Lucy terrified. If she were determined to hide, I’d never find her.
Running to the ten-year-old boy’s room, I grabbed the rat cage and carried it to the front door before making my way back into the kitchen for the last of my charges, a goldfish named Winston. Checking the recycle bin, I found a large Gatorade bottle, rinsed it out and poked some holes in the top of the plastic before pouring the goldfish and his water into the bottle.
I took one last look around for Lucy, but she was nowhere in sight. The only thing I could do for her now was to leave the front door open and give the poor cat a fighting chance. Sadly, the indoor kitty had never stepped foot outside and this would not be a good night to start exploring.
I sprinted down the hall to the guest room, gathered up my clothes and iPad and tossed everything into my open duffle bag. An irritated meow sounded from the hollows.
“What the…?” I gasped, catching a disgruntled Lucy in mid-flight as she tried to jump out of my bag. “Oh no you don’t.”
Apologizing profusely the entire time, I aggressively shoved the squirming cat back inside the tote and secured the zipper. Although Lucy might not agree with my current methods, had she understood the alternative, which was a vigorous charbroiling, I’m sure she would’ve been totally cool with the whole ‘kicking back in my undies’ experience.
Over her aggravated howling, I shouted, “You can thank me later.”
Slinging the bag over my shoulder, I ran for the exit.
* * *
My eyes fluttered open, confusion and pain swimming just beneath the surface. Touching my forehead, pain radiated from a large goose egg. I tried to recall what had happened… and why my car was now smashed accordion-style into a stone retaining wall mere feet from the opened security gate. The impact had deployed the airbag, now semi-deflated and billowing around me.
Warm breath and moisture on my face. Blood? No, it was Hercules licking my face. His tongue bath had probably been what woke me in the first place. But why was he in the front seat with me? Had the intensity of the collision sent him flying over the seats or had he jumped over after the fact?
“Are you guys all right?” I asked, running my hand over Herc’s floppy ears. Twisting around, I spied Sweetpea’s carrier on the ground, wedged between the seats. His incessant yapping let me know the little dog was still alive.
Pieces of my memory abruptly resurfaced. Something on fire had crossed my path as I was driving off the property, maybe an animal, maybe a tumbleweed. Instead of hitting the moving target, I’d swerved, and that’s how I ended up here—crushed up against a landscaping wall.
One by one, I moved my limbs, encouraged by the mobility and lack of pain. I was okay. Yes. Okay. But then I caught sight of the smoke and ash whizzing by at dizzying speeds. No, not okay. Nothing was okay. I was still in the middle of the nightmare—only now the flames were raging, having burned over the ridge and pushed their way forward through the backyard of the neighbor’s place. I could feel the heat all around me.
“Oh god,” I breathed out, turning the key in the ignition as I prepared to drive the mangled car to safety. But no matter how hard I tried, the engine wouldn’t turn over. My Ford Edge was done for, determined to meet its end in a blaze of glory.
It was then that the full weight of the crisis hit me. When I’d first been loading up the animals, cars were still driving by, fleeing the fire, but as I sat unconscious in my totaled vehicle, the exodus seemed to have passed me by. Gone were the headlights crossing through the dark. Gone were the firefighters going door-to-door canvassing. All that was left up here in this coastal mountain living community was me, a car full of animals, and a monstrous fire gobbling up the world around me.
If I was going to see another day, I had to make it happen myself. Opening the car door, I eased out from behind the wheel. Not waiting for an invitation, Hercules squeezed by my butt and was out the door. I half expected him to take off and save himself, but like the loyal teddy bear he was, my canine companion stood by my side, awaiting further instruction. He wasn’t about to abandon me, and neither would I forsake him and his furry siblings.
Flinging my kitty filled duffle bag and Sweetpea’s carrier over my shoulder, I grabbed the rat cage and balanced Winston on top of it all with my chin before leading my circus of sorts out the front gate and down the street. Had I been more mindful of my own perilous situation, I might have thought twice about saving my helpless charges. But I wasn’t thinking of just myself. The animals were scared, and I wasn’t going to just leave them to die.
Of course, that was before the choking smoke attacked my throat. Before the oxygen in the air began to evaporate. And before I realized I might just die on this windy, hilltop road with a gaggle of pets by my side.
