Just as Emily rejoined the other campers a rusty pickup truck with a Beaver Creek Campground logo on the door skidded to a halt in front of their picnic table. The driver rolled down the window and shouted at Big John.
“Don’t unpack! A neighbour just called to say there’s a fire burning on the other side of the highway. I’m going to check it out for myself.” He sped off.
Todd was the only one who took the news calmly. “I told you guys I saw a fire,” he said smugly. “Maybe now you’ll listen to me.”
“Everybody stay here!” shouted Big John. “Don’t wander off.” He quickly counted the campers to make certain nobody was missing. “Okay, I want everybody to get into the van in case we have to leave in a hurry.”
“I think it’s too late,” said one of the boys. He pointed to the end of the access road, where a pine tree was burning. A large spark landed at his feet. He stepped on the ember and put it out.
“The fire has jumped the highway,” said Big John. He was trying hard to speak calmly, although the sweat pouring off his forehead indicated his true feelings. “The wind is getting stronger every minute, and it’s driving the flames. The access road will be closed shortly, if it isn’t already.”
Moments later his prediction came true. The campground pickup truck arrived in a cloud of dust. Emily suspected the driver must be the campground’s owner. She thought the man looked and sounded like someone who had just realized that everyone he owned was about to be destroyed. His eyes bulged, sweat poured down his face, and his hands were shaking. “Get out right now!” he shouted. “Don’t use the road. It’s a death trap. Head toward the south end of the campground.” He pointed to where he wanted them to go. “There’s a path that runs along the creek. It will lead you to an iron bridge that crosses the highway. You’ll be safe if you stay in the middle of the bridge.” Then he drove off to shout the same warning to all the other campers.
Big John ran to the van and removed a backpack from under his seat. He handed it to the blonde girl, who appeared to be in a state of shock. “This has all the phones I confiscated from you guys. We’ll need them to call for help or tell your parents that you’re okay. Don’t lose the bag. It’s all we’re taking.”
The girl nodded, but fear had stolen her power of speech.
“Is everyone wearing proper footwear?” Big John took a quick look at their feet. Luckily nobody had removed their sturdy hiking boots. Emily’s boots were a size too big. They’d belonged to her aunt, who had briefly dated an outdoorsman and bought the boots because she thought she’d have to go on lots of hikes. The relationship hadn’t lasted and the aunt stored the boots in a closet until she discovered her niece was going camping. She’d been only too happy to give them away. The hiking boots felt heavy and awkward. Emily would have much preferred to be wearing light sports shoes.
The wide-eyed campers obediently fell in behind Big John, who led them to the campsite where Emily had met Eric and Anne Rossi. The elderly campers were each pulling a heavy suitcase behind them.
“Leave those behind,” ordered Big John. “It’s only stuff. You can easily replace possessions. Come with us. We have to get out of here.”
His advice to the couple was sensible. They moved slowly, probably because of age, even after abandoning their luggage. They also seemed confused by the noise and smoke and Emily suspected they wouldn’t make it very far on their own. The fire was moving too quickly. Anne was terrified and held Buttons tightly. The poodle was wild with fear and tried to squirm out of his owner’s grasp. Eric offered to take the dog from his wife, but she realized he didn’t have the strength to hold it. He was already gasping for breath and walking with difficulty.
The wind was becoming more intense with every minute. Red embers suddenly filled the air. It was like standing in a blizzard, but instead of snowflakes the campers were being pelted with hot coals. Sparks landed all around. Emily saw a clump of dried grass burst instantly into flames. She was astonished to see how quickly the fire was spreading. It made a terrible rushing sound, unlike anything she had ever heard before.
Trees lining the access road started to explode in the heat. Emily had no idea such a thing was even possible. She stared, open-mouthed, as the trunk of a poplar tree was transformed into a cloud of splinters. The sound of the fire would have drowned out normal conversation, if anyone had wanted to talk. One of the boys suddenly screamed and started slapping his back. A large ember had landed on him, burning through his shirt and singeing the skin.
They joined a stream of people who were abandoning their campsites and vehicles. A few were carrying a handful of possessions, but most were leaving with nothing more than the clothes on their backs. Because the weather had been scorching hot for weeks, most of the campers weren’t wearing more than shorts and T-shirts. Emily saw two teenage girls in bikinis and flip-flops. She was one of the few people who had covered her arms and legs. She was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved sweatshirt. It had nothing to do with modesty and everything to do with wanting to avoid insect bites, which always left her with ugly rashes and painful itches.
Emily was walking next to the Rossis, silently urging them to pick up the pace but recognizing that they were going as fast as they possibly could. They arrived a campsite where a middle-aged couple were having a furious fight. The woman wanted to join the campers fleeing on foot. Her husband wanted to drive their motorhome through the flames.
“It might ruin the paint job, but we’ll make it.”
Tears were streaming down her face. “We’ll both die! Everything’s on fire.”
“The road isn’t burning!” he shouted. “The road is made of dirt and dirt doesn’t burn.”
His rant was interrupted when a car parked near the campground office went up in flames.
The woman pointed toward the burning vehicle with a shaky hand. “That’s what’s going to happen to us if we try to drive out of here.”
Her husband stared at the burning vehicle for a moment, turned pale, and grabbed his wife’s hand. They looked around, unsure where to head, and finally noticed the column of refugees. Emily motioned for them to follow. At least her group had been given directions.
Big John’s booming voice cut through the din. “There’s no need to panic. If we look after each other we’ll all make it.”
There were quite a few older people and lots of families with kids. One woman was carrying a baby and trying to herd two other small children. Emily saw Big John scoop up the two youngsters and say something to the mother, who nodded and smiled weakly.
The refugees badly needed a leader and it looked to Emily that Big John was rising to the occasion. Earlier that day she’d been annoyed by what she considered his fake cheerfulness. Now she was impressed with how calm he was in a crisis.
Her fellow campers, who had been cursing their expedition leader just a few minutes earlier, now began to follow his example. They made sure nobody was in danger of being left behind, offering an arm whenever someone stumbled. A family had brought a parrot along on their camping trip and one of the boys was carrying the cage. Emily stayed next to Anne and Eric Rossi, who had been so friendly toward her. They were having trouble keeping up with the column and she felt protective of them.
The fire was moving toward them fast, jumping from one treetop to another.
Someone shouted, “There goes the campground offices.”
Emily looked over her shoulder and saw flames shooting high into the sky. It was barely possible to see the outline of a building through the smoke. There was a loud explosion, followed by a second.
“There go the propane tanks!” said the man who’d been arguing with his wife.
“We’re almost at the creek!” yelled Big John. “Hurry up! We’ve reached the trail.”
There were already scattered fires on both sides of the trail. Emily could see it wouldn’t be long before the small fires joined together to create solid walls of flame.
Anne tried to pick up the pace, but her foot hit a tree root and she stumbled. Buttons, who was still whining and wriggling, broke free from his owner’s grasp. The poodle hit the ground hard, yelped, and raced toward an abandoned tent.
Anne screamed, “Buttons! Come here!”
The poodle seemed to have lost his mind. He barked hysterically as he ran behind the tent and out of sight.
The look of horror on Anne’s face convinced Emily she had to act. She ran after the poodle, frantically calling his name. As she reached the abandoned campsite she saw the dog race behind a nearby tree.
“Emily! Come back! Leave the dog!” The voice belonged to Big John
Emily looked back toward the trail. Big John was still holding a child in each arm.
Anne and Eric Rossi clearly didn’t want to leave their pet behind. They were being pushed and pulled along the path by some of the teen campers. Emily was just about to start running back toward the path when she heard a whine. Buttons stuck his head out from behind a tree. He was whimpering and shivering.
Trying to keep her voice calm Emily called the dog. The howling wind must have drowned out her voice. Buttons didn’t seem to hear her. Emily called again, louder this time. The poodle heard and looked in her direction. Mustering all her self-control Emily walked steadily toward him, determined not to make any sudden moves that might spook it. She was almost within reach of the animal when they were engulfed by a cloud of sparks. Emily felt a searing pain on her left leg. A large ember had burned through the denim. She screamed and slapped at it. The spark dropped down the inside the pant leg, scorching flesh as it fell. Sobbing in pain and fear Emily turned to where she’d last seen Buttons. She was just in time to see it disappear into some thick bush.
“Buttons!” she yelled, knowing it was too late.
A powerful gust of searing wind knocked her to her knees. Emily got up, staggered a few steps, looked around, and was appalled to discover flames had nearly surrounded her. The way back to the path was blocked. She was alone.
A fearsome crackling above her head caused her to look up. The top of the tree she was standing under erupted in flame. All around, clumps of grass and small bushes were being set alight by the flying sparks. The smoke was suddenly so thick that the path to the creek was no longer visible. The roar of the fire was painfully intense.
Coughing from the smoke, swatting at the embers hurtling past her head, Emily turned and ran in the one direction where she could still see green. She had no idea where she was going or what lay ahead, but knew she only had seconds to escape.
The forest that surrounded the campground had very little underbrush, but the ground was covered with a thick carpet of dried needles and pine cones. An endless stream of flying embers was setting off a new fire every few seconds.
Emily pushed her way through a grove of saplings. The leaves were green, meaning they wouldn’t flare up as easily as the pine needles. She paused, looking for an escape route and was dismayed to discover the blaze had encircled her. Emily had nearly given up hope when she noticed a huge log lying on the ground. The forest floor was burning in front of it, but the flames were only knee high. The log was acting as a fire break. Brush on the other side of the log wasn’t yet burning.
Fuelled by terror she raced toward the fallen tree, hoping to hurdle the flames and land on top of the log. She wasn’t a good jumper, and she sailed through, rather than over the blaze. Her feet landed on the log, but it was covered with slippery moss and she nearly fell backward into the fire. Recovering her balance at the last possible second, she lurched forward and then landed face-first on the hard ground. Winded, but knowing there wasn’t a moment to spare, she got up and staggered into the unknown.