5. Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Ellie
T he Deer Creek campsite buzzes with activity like a beehive, only instead of bees, it's a swarm of third-graders darting between tents and trees. I watch them with a smile, Danielle at my side, both of us chuckling at their excitement. We brought twenty 3rd graders and 6 chaperones, so our campsite is packed. But it's also so great to get out of town for the weekend. I haven't camped in years and really missed it.
I take a deep inhale of fresh pine before returning to the task at hand. "This is organized chaos at its finest," I say. Then I squat to hammer a stake into the ground to secure the tent Danielle and I will share tonight. After the transportation snafu this morning—which also caused me to miss the bus, so I had to drive up in my own car—we're running behind schedule, but everyone seems upbeat as we work together to set up tents.
"Nothing we can't handle," Danielle replies, her smile reassuring. "We're making memories, right?"
"Absolutely," I agree, adjusting my glasses that have slipped slightly down my nose.
"Think they'll be disappointed about the hike getting shortened tomorrow since we couldn't do it today?" She secures a pole, eyes meeting mine over the half-assembled structure, the sunlight filtering through the trees and casting dappled shadows across her face.
"Probably not," I say, smoothing out a wrinkle on the tent floor. "All they really want is to swim in the lake and eat s'mores. Then go home to watch TV."
We share a laugh and then focus on the tent, getting half of it up before I pause, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand. "I just wish it wasn't so hot. Wasn't it supposed to be cloudy today?"
Danielle also breaks, stretching her arms above her head. "Yeah, but you don't want it to rain tomorrow do you?"
"No, but a few clouds would be nice."
"So what's for dinner? Please tell me you packed those jumbo marshmallows."
"Hot dogs and chips to start. And yes, I brought the jumbos and Hershey's bars." I grin, my mouth already watering at the thought of the gooey treats. "S'mores by the fire tonight. We'll also have storytelling, and Marcy's Dad brought his guitar."
"Perfect." Danielle grins back. "And I call dibs on five jumbos."
I smile and shake my head. "Alright, let's get these poles snapped together.”
"Moose!" Tommy calls out, chasing after his energetic golden retriever, the dog's fur glistening in the sunlight as he bounds through the campsite.
I brace myself as seventy pounds of wiggling enthusiasm collides with my legs, nearly knocking me off balance. "Whoa!" I laugh, giving Moose a good scratch behind the ears. His tail thumps wildly against the ground, stirring up a small cloud of dust.
"Sorry, Ms. Carter," Tommy pants, running up behind him. "I was tying him to a tree but he ran off. He doesn't like being tied up."
Danielle squats to give Moose some tummy pets. In a silly voice, she says, "He's just excited to be part of the fun. Aren't you, boy?"
Our moment with Moose is abruptly interrupted by a burst of loud music from a nearby campsite, the bass thumping through the air and causing the ground to vibrate slightly beneath our feet. A chorus of whoops and hollers follows, rising above the crackle of a fire that seems to dance a little too high for comfort. Danielle and I stare at the group of college kids setting up across the way, beer cans already in hand even though it's barely past five. A guy leaps up on top of a picnic table, red solo cup held high, his shirt discarded on the ground beside him.
I frown, exchanging a worried look with Danielle. This could be a problem.
Tommy peers over curiously, his eyes wide. "How come they get to have a party?"
"They're probably college kids out on a road trip," I say lightly, not wanting to alarm him. "Why don't you take Moose back to your tent? We'll see you at dinner."
He nods and clips Moose's leash back on. Then he skips away.
When he's out of earshot I groan. "Ugh, seriously? This seems like bad timing."
"Already talked to the park ranger about them," Danielle says. "He promised to swing by and remind them about the noise curfew."
"Good." Another round of shouts erupts from the group, and I watch as they toss more wood onto their already roaring fire. "And hopefully the ranger will remind them to watch that fire. There's no reason to make it that big."
"I'm sure it'll be fine." Danielle lays a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Now come on, let's finish this tent so we can get cooking before hangry kids descend on us."
I take one last wary look at the college kids before returning my focus to the tent. She's right, it will probably be fine. Still, I make a mental note to keep an extra close eye on my campers tonight.
I'm in the middle of a dream involving Jake—shirtless, of course—when I cough involuntarily, waking myself up. An acrid scent hits me and I cough again, rubbing my eyes and sitting up. What is that? Smoke. I bolt upright, my lungs rebelling against the intrusion. The tent around me glows a sinister orange, shadows dancing along the canvas. Did those damn college students leave their fire going all night?
I get on my knees to peek out the tent window, expecting to see their campsite fire blazing like before. I gasp, frozen. The outside world is completely shrouded in smoke and I can see two trees near that campsite engulfed in flames. My entire body tenses and my heart seems to stop—it's the most terrifying and awe provoking sight I've ever seen.
"Ellie, what's going—" Danielle's question dies in her throat as she follows my wide-eyed stare to the window of our tent.
"Fire!" I gasp out, scrambling to unzip the tent flap. The crackle and pop of burning wood fill my ears. Flames lick at the night sky, climbing the trees that border the college kids' campsite. It's hard to breathe, so I grab a shirt and use it to cover my nose and mouth.
"Jesus," Danielle breathes out, the color draining from her face as she stares.
"Come on. We need to wake everyone—now!" My words are sharp, clipped. In seconds, we have our shoes on and we're both outside, the blistering heat of the fire chasing us as we sprint toward the nearest tents in our PJs.
"Everyone up! Fire! We have to evacuate!" My voice is barely recognizable, strained and urgent, piercing through the crackling roar of the flames. Parents emerge from their tents with wide eyes, their expressions a mixture of confusion and growing fear as they take in the chaos unfolding before them. A chaperone wraps her trembling arms around two children, hushing their cries and whispering reassurances.
"Grab your kids, anything important, and head to the bus!" Danielle commands, her own fear masked by the steel in her voice. There's no time for anything except the essentials like a wallet and cell phone; everything else can burn because belongings are inconsequential when lives are at stake.
Chaperones scoop up children, their footsteps pounding urgently over the forest floor as they try to gather a few bags with shaking hands. I try to do a quick head count as they scramble around, my eyes darting from face to face. I count everyone, so that's good. Just to be safe, I count again, and I'll do another count on the bus.
A sudden gust of wind shakes the trees violently. It seems the clouds have started to roll in, but it's incredibly bad timing. The gust carries the fire closer to our site. When I glance up, a small flame is dancing along a tree branch.
"Forget any bags!" I shout, my voice raw and desperate. "To the bus immediately."
Danielle and I help to usher kids as the driver starts the bus. A father hoists his daughter onto his back, her small arms clinging to his neck; other chaperones are carrying kids and dragging others along, trying to remain calm but also borderline freaking out.
Tommy is heading the opposite direction of the bus, his eyes wide with panic, so I grab him, hoisting him into my arms and covering his mouth and nose with the shirt I was using. I cough, inhaling too much smoke, the acrid taste burning my throat. He's trying to fight me and say something but whatever it is can wait for the bus, for the safety of distance. There's no room for argument, no second-guessing as the fire is hungrily devouring everything in its path, closing in on our site, the heat searing against my skin. We need to get out before the road is blocked.
My heart is hammering against my ribcage, threatening to burst from my chest as I hand Tommy to a chaperone already on the bus, his small body trembling. Once it looks like everyone is in, I suppress a cough and hurry up the bus steps to do a headcount, my fingers gripping the rail tightly. Danielle is doing the same thing, her lips moving quickly as she counts.
We both look at each other, our eyes locking, and say, "Twenty-nine." That's everyone—twenty kids, six chaperones, the bus driver, me, and Danielle.
I exhale, but it only causes me to cough, my throat irritated and throbbing.
"Let's go. Go!" I tell the driver, a bit too forcefully. My panicked state is making me harsh, but it's understandable. And I'm just now realizing I'm abandoning my car. Whatever. If it burns, I'll get a new one because that's not important right now.
The bus shudders as it starts to inch backwards, its engine a low growl.
Suddenly, Tommy screams out and breaks free of the adult that was holding him. "Moose!" he screams, tears flooding down his face. "He's out there. I have to get him!"
My chest tightens. Did he get left tied to a tree? A knot starts to form in my throat as I try not to imagine what a horrible death that would be for the poor dog.
Danielle tries to hug Tommy as he attempts to push past her to the door. "Tommy, sweetheart, we have to go," she says, trying to sound calm, but the tremble in her voice betrays her fear.
"But he's all alone!" His lip quivers, and something inside me snaps. I can't leave that dog behind. Not when I remember the ache of losing my own furry friend when I was just a kid. I won't let Tommy feel that loss.
"Okay, okay," I murmur more to myself than anyone else. I rise from my seat, determined. "I'll grab him quickly. Which tree was he tied to?"
Tommy sniffs. "Near my tent."
"Was it blue?"
Tommy nods.
"Ellie, no." Danielle's hand clamps down on my arm, her nails digging in. "No. No. It's too dangerous! It breaks my heart, but we can't. We have to get the kids to safety."
"Then go. Please. I'll grab Moose and take my car back. It will only take a minute."
The driver is getting irritated from the delay and turns to glare at us. "We need to go," he says. "I'm backing up."
I hurry toward the door, but Danielle grabs me again. "Are you crazy? I'm not letting you go out there. Forget the dog!" Her words sting, but I understand her fear.
Tommy erupts into sobs and my heart twists.
"I'm not going to stand here and argue!" I shout at her and she flinches. "Sorry, but I'll be okay. Just go!"
"What if something happens to you?" she shouts back, but I'm already at the door.
As I step down, Danielle says, "Dammit, Ellie. Be careful."
I jump from the bus as the driver shuts the door and punches the gas to get onto the road out of here. I cough, struggling to breathe, so I pull my PJ shirt up to cover my nose. As the bus pulls away, I catch Danielle's face pressed against the window, looking terrified like she’ll never see me again.
Fire rages through the trees, casting an eerie orange glow across the campground like it's daytime. Regardless, it's still hard to see through the smoke. A branch overhead is crackling with flames and I realize that what I'm doing is absolutely insane. But if I let that dog die, it'll haunt me the rest of my life. I'll think of how it was trapped, the fire getting closer and closer until...
I locate the blue tent, struggling to breathe. My stomach drops. There's a leash on the ground, but no dog. I pick up the leash.
Fuck, he must've gotten loose again.
But that means he'll survive at least. He's smart enough to know to run away from fire. Tommy may never see him again but...
I hurry to my tent to grab my phone and car keys. I freeze when I hear barking. I straighten, peering through the dense haze around me. The barking is close.
I suck in the biggest breath I can and shout, "Moose! Here, boy!" But it's too much and I hunch over from a violent cough.
The barking sounds frantic and I worry he's hurt, so I wander toward the sound. I'm running on pure adrenaline now, my mind sharply focused on the task of grabbing this dog, getting in my car, and getting the hell out of here.
I'll be okay. Just need to get Moose and...
I squint against the sting of the smoke, forcing my legs to pump faster. I've always prided myself on being the cool-headed one, the teacher who can handle any playground scrape with a band-aid and a joke. But right now, I'm just Ellie, scared out of her mind but too stubborn to turn back.
I step over a fallen branch, nearly tripping but catching myself at the last second. And then I hear it—the unmistakable sound of paws thumping against the ground and a whine that cuts straight to my heart. I stumble onto a clearing and there he is, the golden retriever with his tongue lolling out, looking just as terrified as I feel.
His tail wags furiously as he approaches.
I pat his head, then grab his collar to attach the leash. "You're okay. We're gonna be okay." Another cough seizes me. Smoke is burning my eyes so much it's hard to keep them open, moisture streaming down my face. But I have the dog, now I just need to get in my car and this will soon be a distant nightmare.
I take a moment, closing my eyes. I need this second of stillness before facing the chaos again. After a beat, I open my eyes, ready to do this. But as I glance around, I realize I can't tell which way to walk. There's only smoke and an orange glow as far as the eye can see. I blink against the stinging haze. Which way? Which way?
I have no idea, so maybe I should just move away from the fire. I have my cell phone, so I can get to a spot with service and call for help. Or just walk until I find a road. I'm sure I can find a road. This campground isn’t that big.
I tug on the leash so Moose follows me, then I cover my nose with as much fabric as I can, trying to take shallow breaths. I remember something from a safety training class about smoke rising, so I hunch over a little, trying to get my face into air that's more breathable. My head is swimming, my lungs burning, but I keep moving away from the orange glow.
Keep going. Just keep going.
Moose is barking, but he's being a good dog and following me without a fight. I stumble a little over a branch, then I stumble over my own feet, falling to the ground. Moose comes up and licks my face, but I push him away, really struggling to breathe.
I can't stop coughing. Maybe if I just lay on the ground where there's less smoke, I can recover enough to keep going. I'm suddenly exhausted, so I curl into a ball, covering my face. Moose's leash is securely tied around my wrist so he won't get away again.
I just need a moment. Then I'll be fine.
The last thing I hear over the roar of the crackling fire is the sound of barking, frantic and close, as though Moose is calling for help. I slip into darkness.