Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 132892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
It made for a surreal trip.
The sky was getting darker as more smoke covered the sun, and the air made my eyes water. Everywhere we saw people loading cars, and most of the businesses had their “Closed” signs up. I couldn’t even see across the valley—that’s how bad the visibility had gotten.
At least the twins were easy to spot outside the school. They looked just like Carrie, but they had Darren’s height. I waved them over and they came running, engulfing me in their hugs.
“Thanks for coming to get us,” Rebecca said. Her sister, Anna, nodded in agreement.
“This is super creepy,” she added. “Can we stop by the house to grab some of our things?”
“If you go fast,” I told them. “But there isn’t much room in the trunk. It’ll have to be small enough to hold on your lap, and you’ll be squeezed in the back with my dad.”
“Do you think the town will burn?” Rebecca asked, her voice unsteady.
“It’s only level two,” I reminded her, trying not to show any of my own nerves. “But we need to be ready.”
“I don’t want to lose all my stuff,” Anna moaned.
“Let’s worry about staying safe, all right?” I reminded her. “First thing, I doubt you’ll lose anything, but if you did, it’s beyond our control. There’s nothing you own that’s worth dying for.”
Her mouth snapped shut, and for a minute I felt guilty, because that was a little harsh. Then the guilt passed, because I had more important things to worry about, like making sure none of us burned up. Mrs. Webbly handled the girls from there, and I have to say, she was brilliant. She talked brightly the entire time, telling them about the other evacuations she’d experienced through the decades.
“The forests have to burn,” she reminded us. “If they don’t, the new trees can’t grow.”
It only took the twins ten minutes to throw together their backpacks. We left the elders in the car at Carrie and Darren’s house, and while the girls packed, I moved through the house with a lightweight grocery bag, collecting their laptop, the jewelry Carrie’d gotten from her grandmother, and as many family pictures as I could find. Then we headed back to our place, passing the police going door to door as we drove. The girls chattered nervously as Mary Webbly and I shared a look.
I didn’t care how many times she’d been evacuated—this was officially scary as hell.
GAGE
The dump station was only ten miles from the clubhouse, but it took us nearly half an hour to reach it because visibility sucked so bad. We pulled off at one point to talk about turning around, but it really was just smoke—all the fires were to the south. If anything, we were riding away from the danger. Still didn’t like being so far from Tinker, though.
Should’ve hung up when Talia called.
Once we pulled into the station—which was less of a “station” and more of a line of Dumpsters in a dirt parking lot—Taz and Hunter scouted for a place to hide the bikes. They found an old forest service access road back in the trees that was perfect. They’d be hidden in the trees, but still easy to access. We’d just gotten everything set up when an emergency alert hit my phone.
Level-two evacuation notice for Hallies Falls.
Fucking hell.
“Talia’s just gonna have to wait,” I told Pic, holding out the phone. He pulled out his own, looking thoughtful.
“No alert on mine,” he said.
“Me neither,” Taz added, but Hunter shook his head.
“Came through on mine.”
“Coverage is spotty as hell in areas like this at the best of times,” Pic concluded. “You have a tower go offline and anything’s possible.”
“Let me call Tinker, make sure she’s all right,” I said. “Then we can go.”
Dialing her number, I waited for the phone to ring. Instead, I got an error message saying the call couldn’t be completed.
“Fuck,” I muttered. “Call won’t go through. I’ll try sending her a text, but I need to get back there. Her and her dad and . . . shit. All she’s got to evacuate in is the Mustang. BB’s there, but he’s on a bike so that’s no good. If a level three hits, I can load them in the bunk of the semi, and if that can’t make it through the fire, nothing will.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Pic said. “The rest of this shit can wait. Don’t panic, though. Level two isn’t good, but it’s not a full evacuation order, either.”
“It’ll come down to the wind,” Hunter added, frowning. “Think it’s picking up.”
As if listening to his words, the massive old-growth pines above us started to sway. I hit Tinker’s number and tried to call her again, I got the same error message.
Goddammit.
Maybe a text would get through. Typing out a quick message, I started jogging for my bike.