With the large aircraft already dropping fire retardant chemicals, we had a leg up on the fire. As long as we could keep it contained.
The pilot slowed. We were almost over the jump spot.
“We have several crown fires to deal with. Be careful out there. Get the control lines established before starting a burnout. Number one goal. Keep the flames away from Missoula.”
Even after two years on the team, to have two fires crowding so close to home was debilitating. Today it fueled the anger I had for the city council. Why wasn’t the Forestry Service pushing harder on the group? I’d worked on fires so far removed from the public or any structures that we’d hiked for two days to get to a suitable pick-up location. To think this was premeditated burned deep within all of us.
“We are ready for the jump,” the pilot called.
“Good luck and God speed,” the captain said and I noticed at least four of the jumpers made the sign of the cross.
“Say a prayer to Big Ernie!” Denver tossed out, laughing as he always did before the start of a mission. The pretend deity was a legend with smokejumpers, a god with a twisted sense of humor, justice, and fair play. But you never wanted to irritate the dude. That I’d learned the hard way. I thought about how I’d mentioned it to Kenzie. Maybe I’d wanted her not to worry.
Another jump without my brother. And Steel was out there with another team. This particular mission hit me harder than most.
We were always in danger, our lives placed on the line. However, the weight of what we’d gone through with losing one of our own was detrimental to everyone. We owed him and every other fallen jumper our respect and honor.
That was no problem. However, my belief in a being greater than all of us had been challenged. So had my beliefs in just about everything.
As the cargo door was opened, my thoughts drifted from Will to Kenzie once again. Maybe she’d been brought back into my life for some crazy reason.
The cargo boxes holding all our heavy equipment were dropped, which meant it was time.
“Go. Go. Go!” the captain yelled.
The call was made, the jumpers lining up and one by one, we bailed from the aircraft before placing the pilot in harm’s way.
Floating. I glanced at the mountain as I controlled my fall, studying the flames eating through the dry timber. The speed of the flames was unimaginable, fueled by brisk enough winds it already felt like a losing effort.
But we were going to do our best to ensure every one of us came back alive.
A simple yank of the parachute cord and I was jerked up. The fall was well controlled. With a gentle swing, the entire team fell softly toward the jump spot.
Until a brisk swing of wind brought smoke into our faces.
Within seconds, disorientation hit and we were spinning in the wind. If we weren’t careful, we’d collide into each other.
“Goddamn it!” Rock shouted.
“Control the line. Control!” Captain Daughtry’s voice held concern.
While the captain tried to provide some sense of orders, we were drifting pretty far off course. With the smoke intermittent, I noticed we were coming close to a goddamn drop-off. Somehow, I was ahead of the others, falling too fast.
“Drop. Don’t roll!” I yelled.
The drop was hard and I struggled instantly with the parachute, fighting to keep from rolling. Tangled in the rope, I already had my knife out, struggling to cut the slick material away before another burst of wind caught it, possibly dragging me close to the edge.
All the training I’d had over the last several years kicked in. Within seconds, I was free, immediately crawling toward safety just as the others started to come down one after the other.
A couple managed to fall safely to their feet, able to snap off the parachute without any issue.
As the smoke started to clear, I noticed Dante was coming in last. I shielded my eyes, studying his fall.
Goddamn it. Another blast of wind.
“He’s going to lose control!” another jumper said from far behind me.
“Come on, buddy,” Rock yelled, as if the man could hear him.
