6:59 P.M.
NATALIA PUT HER HAND over her mouth. The fire moved like a living thing, like a dancer, like water, like a torn and fluttering flag. It crackled and snapped as it crisped and then consumed ferns and wildflowers and plants she didn’t know the names of.
It wasn’t a solid wall of flame. Some spots were still green, while in others the fire was thick, flaring up as it found new fuel, filling the air with pale smoke. The flickering orange and yellow was a sharp contrast to the bright green ground cover. The flames were nibbling on the trunks of some of the small trees that bordered the trail but hadn’t leapt into the canopies. Yet.
Natalia’s throat was tight, her breathing shallow. For the past six years, she had avoided even the smallest of fires. Matches. Lighters. Birthday candles. Smoldering incense. And of course bigger things like firepits and fireplaces.
Now her nightmares had come to life.
Slowly, she became aware Wyatt was repeating her name. “Natalia. Natalia, are you okay?”
She was not okay. She was back to being eleven years old, gasping in the smoke.
“I’m afraid of fire.”
In her mind, she was again crawling across the flat tan carpet, coughing and gagging.
Wyatt put his hand under her chin, turning her head so she was facing him and not the flames. At first she resisted, the muscles in her neck rigid, before yielding to the gentle pressure of his fingers. Their eyes locked. This time when he grabbed her hand, he squeezed and didn’t let go.
“Listen to me. We’re going to be okay. But we can’t stay here. We’re going to go back to the falls. It’s got that rocky beach with no trees nearby. And all that water. We’ll be safe there.”
“But what about the fire?”
He surveyed the flames with narrowed eyes. “It’s not that far from the parking lot. Someone’s probably already called 9-1-1. If the Forest Service could divert a single helicopter with one of those giant buckets of fire retardant, they could nip this thing in the bud.”
But what if they didn’t know about the fire? Natalia checked her phone, but it still read “No Service.”
As she slid it back into her pocket, Wyatt said, “I think if I climbed up above the falls I might be able to get a bar or two.” He tugged her hand. “Come on, let’s go back.”
When they hurried around the bend, the couple with the toddler was coming toward them. The parents were slender, Asian American, maybe in their late thirties. The child had both his hands fisted in his father’s black hair. Looking at him, the smell of smoke in her nostrils, Natalia felt faint and far away, as if she were observing herself from above.
Wyatt stepped into the middle of the path. “You can’t go back this way. There’s a fire, and it’s cut off the trail. I think we should all just go back to the falls.”
The dad scowled. “What are you talking about? Are you joking?”
Wyatt raised his empty hands. “Why would we joke about that? Look at all the smoke in the air. The fire’s just a few hundred yards up the trail.”
“And Trask is really tired.” The mom shook her head. She had a spiky black haircut.
“We just came through there like an hour ago and there wasn’t any fire,” the dad said. “Maybe we could still get through.”
Wyatt shook his head. “It’s moving pretty fast.”
But it was like the couple hadn’t heard him. Without another word, the man walked past them. When the edge of the child carrier knocked against Natalia, he didn’t apologize. More slowly, the woman followed.
Natalia exchanged a look with Wyatt. “Maybe we should go after them?”
“They’ll figure it out in a minute.”
“But what about their kid?” The memory of her little brother swamped her. To steady herself, she rested her palm on the rough bark of a tree trunk. Her therapist, Dr. Paris, called it anchoring to the real world.
“I’m sure they won’t really risk it once they see it. They just need to wrap their heads around reality.”
Natalia and Wyatt started back up the hill. It was an effort to keep lifting her boots. They had worked until two thirty and then driven the hour out here. At least now that she couldn’t see the fire, her fear wasn’t as paralyzing. The authorities were probably already redirecting one of those helicopters. Maybe she and Wyatt would even be rescued by one.
When they went around another turn in the trail, four people from the falls were coming toward them. In the lead was the dog. Natalia eyed it nervously. She didn’t like the fact that it was off its leash. Dogs could bite or snap or otherwise be unpredictable. Its ears stood straight up, and its blue eyes were a striking contrast to its flat brown coat with a white splash on the chest.
Thirty feet behind the dog was the college-age couple it belonged to—the tall, skinny white guy in cutoffs, with the leash draped around his neck like a scarf, and the Hispanic girl in flip-flops, a blue-and-white beach towel draped over her bare shoulders. Behind them was an African American man with graying hair. He was holding the hand of a lighter-skinned boy who looked about eight.
Wyatt stepped into the middle of the path and raised his hands. “Hey, guys—I’m sorry, but we can’t get out this way. There’s a fire about a half mile back.”
“What? A forest fire?” The older man wrapped one arm around the boy. He pulled him close, ignoring the kid’s attempts to squirm away.
“Really?” The girl’s eyes went wide.
“Blue!” Her boyfriend patted his thigh, and the dog came to his side. He snapped on the leash.
Wyatt pointed the way they had come. “We’re not fire experts, but we figured we’d be safest by the water. If I climb up above the falls, I think I might be able to get cell service. Then I could ask 9-1-1 what to do.”
This time there wasn’t any argument or discussion, just a hurried push to get back to where they had started. When they reached Basin Falls, there were only three people left. The sweaty white guy was finishing up the last of his Gatorade. An older white woman wearing a tan sun hat and an old-fashioned pack was sitting on a boulder, watching the falls. And the dark-haired guy who had passed them on their way out was facing toward the trail, staring up at the sky. None of them were near each other.
“Hey! People! Listen up!” Wyatt waved his arms, but it was difficult to compete with the sight and sound of falling water.
Natalia slid off her backpack and found the gear she had bought at REI. She pulled out the cord holding a bright orange whistle and put it to her lips. Even over the rush of the waterfall, the sound was piercing. The other people’s heads turned.
Wyatt put his hands around his mouth and shouted. “Hey, you guys, there’s a fire blocking the trail.” He pointed at the top of the falls. “I’m going to get up higher and see if I can get cell service.”
He headed toward a faint line of trampled brush that led to the top of the falls. Natalia followed, her stomach twisting. At the bottom of the slope was a sign bolted to a tree. The top had the word “NO” in big white letters on a red background. In full, it read, “No cliff jumping or diving into Basin Falls. Three people have died trying. $500 fine.”
“Do you really think it’s safe to go up there?” she asked as he scrambled up on a boulder.
He looked over his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I have no plans to try diving. Want to come up with me?”
“I’ll just slow you down,” Natalia said, which was true but not the truth. She was afraid of heights. “Just promise you’ll be careful.”
“Of course. But don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” Wyatt started to clamber up the rocky hillside. Her heart in her mouth, Natalia watched him go.