Axe (Missoula Hotshots #1)

Chapter 1

Axe

Whoosh!

Boom!

The thunderous crash was experienced, not heard, the intense vibrations continuous.

The earth rumbled from the swift moving fire, wind dragging the flames from the top of one tree to another.

Every sound, including the cries of birds as they raced for safety was masked by the crackle of flames ripping through the dense, dry timber.

“Jesus Christ,” Dante yelled, his voice garbled yet audible through the remote speaker. He’d been close to being pummeled into the ground by the massive oak denting the earth.

I took a step away, lifting my face shield to stare at the progress. Goddamn it, the fire was hot, already consuming at least a thousand acres. While the team was making headway, soon exhaustion would settle in. That would add to the already heightened level of danger.

Where the fuck was the water? The firefighters were supposed to have been here an hour ago.

While we’d parachuted in given the location and the aggressive nature of the fire, there was a remote road leading to the area as well.

Even with the mountainous area, the firefighters should have been here thirty minutes before.

They had plenty of fucking water with the river and one of several lakes close by.

“Where are they?” I barked after smashing my fingers against the push to talk button.

Acrid ash lingered on my tongue, the taste bitter. Sooty columns of charcoal gray blotted out the sun, my eyes and nose burning from the stench.

“Mask on!” the team commander snapped as he swung his head toward me, his voice filled with fury.

“Do your job, Axe. Do your job and we might get out of here alive.” William, or as he was known to everyone in the squad, the Wingman wasn’t interested in any of my shit.

It didn’t matter that we were brothers. Not here.

Not during a fire. He was merely the experienced smokejumper and I was low on the totem pole. “No fucking hot-dogging. Any of you.”

I’d gotten the nickname of Axe week one given my ability with and aggressive use of an axe in the line of duty. It was either that or be afflicted with the moniker I’d had since the first time I’d been arrested as a teenager.

Bronco Bully. Yeah, that didn’t suit me anymore. I was no longer that guy.

I glared at him, more as my older brother than as my superior. Yeah, I understood why rules were meant to be followed. In the wilderness, any misstep could cost someone’s life.

“Yes, sir. You know the wind is about to change directions. Right?” I glanced toward the sky painted orange by the excessive flames for emphasis.

“Don’t push, Axe. Keep your position,” he barked before heading off in another direction.

Damn the man and his rules. I lifted my mask again, turning in a full circle. If we weren’t careful, we’d lose control of the flames in seconds. The weather pattern was unpredictable as fuck and should be watched. But that wasn’t my call to make.

I returned to my post, continuing to clear the path, yanking limbs free of the line of fire.

While three jumpers were working on a burnout, setting fires to deny the main fire of any fuel, I was on the team cutting through branches and digging ditches to divert the flames.

I moved toward the other men, taking swing after swing against the hard terrain. The underbrush was brutal, dry as a bone, the perfect conditions for a raging flashfire.

We worked in tandem, ignoring body aches and the excessive heat. Beads of sweat crawled down my face, more soaking every inch of clothing.

This was what I’d asked for, joining the hotshot team. Why was I complaining? A grin crossed my face. I wasn’t. I was a danger junkie and this was exactly what fed my desires.

Minutes ticked by and it seemed as if we weren’t making any damn progress.

Boom!

Another fallen tree.

Another scream.

I threw a look at Denver who shook his head. Before giving it another thought, I rushed toward the sound.

“Axe, get back here!” Dante yelled, the entire team overhearing his frustration. A man was down. I refused to allow one of our own to perish.

Not like this.

Embers rained down as if from the heavens, blanketing the terrain with specks of hot lava. I trounced out as many as possible as I lumbered forward, feeling hindered by the weight of the uniform.

“Axe! Where the fuck are you?” I ignored Will’s question as I heard moaning only a few feet away.

Thick smoke furled in the air, making it close to impossible to breathe. But nothing was going to stop me.

I noticed movement seconds later and rushed forward. Rock was down, a huge limb pinning his legs. Fuck.

“Man down. Man down,” I called, but there was no time to wait for anyone’s assistance.

“Damn it,” Rock hissed, obviously in pain.

“I got you, Marcus.”

“I can’t fucking move,” he muttered. In the two plus years I’d been a hotshot, I’d never seen the man flustered. That’s why he’d been given the moniker of the Rock. Because he was immovable, impenetrable. A local hero.

And we would not lose him on this mission.

Hunkering down, I yanked at the huge limb, my gloves slipping on the slimy moss bark. Fuck. I yanked them off before trying again, this time on my feet and using my thigh muscles.

“Aaaaahhhhh.”

Crackling sounds were all around us, additional limbs ready to fall. Any one of them could crush us.

“Pull. Pull. Pull!” Rock grunted.

Voices from other jumpers peppered the airwaves. All ignored.

With my chest heaving, my arms ready to give out, I finally got the fucking limb to budge just enough so Rock was able to crawl out from under it. I grabbed his arm, dragging him away just as movement caught my eye.

Boom!

The ground beneath us rumbled.

The fallen tree was too damn close, the force creating a thick haze of dust.

“Let’s get out of here.” With my arm wrapped around him, we hobbled to safety, moving behind the line of fire.

I could feel the heated glare of the others but didn’t give a shit. I’d saved a man’s life. Wasn’t that worth something?

“I’m fine,” Rock told me. “Let’s get this done. Back to work.”

We returned to the group, continuing our efforts. Time seemed to tick away slowly.

Suddenly, the fucking cavalry arrived, firefighters making it through the heavy brush.

“About goddamn time!” Denver barked from beside me.

Snorting, I glanced at the firefighting team, realizing it was engine twelve, my old stomping grounds. My captain had been none too happy when I’d left to become a smokejumper.

William appeared, stalking toward them.

But not before throwing me a nasty look.

“What do we have?” one of the firemen asked as he glanced toward the waning crown of fire.

“Eighty percent contained,” my brother barked out. “We need water on the ridge over there. Let’s put this thing to bed.”

“The wind is going to change,” I said, but mostly to myself. At this point, I doubted there was anything I could say that my brother would listen to. I’d ignored orders.

“Got it.” As the firemen rushed off, I rolled my eyes.

So much for fucking teamwork.

Another thirty minutes passed, but we could all feel the headway being made.

Only when it appeared we’d controlled any ongoing brush fires did the Wingman give the okay to step away.

I yanked off the helmet before walking away from the charred remains.

After taking a deep breath of stagnant air, I grabbed a bottle of water from my pack, not bothering to rip off my gloves before gulping half the contents.

When I was finished, I poured the rest over my head and thumped to the ground on my ass.

The entire ridge was a sauna, steam already rising from the volume of water used.

Dante grinned as he tugged a bottle of water into his hands. “What’s wrong, rookie? A little hot for you?”

Now I had the incentive to rip off my gloves, giving him the middle finger once I did. “Rookie, my ass. Ha. Ha. Just a little sick of bureaucracy.” I could see two of the firefighters from where I was sitting.

“Oh, listen to him. Already an elitist.” Rock hobbled toward us, wincing when he dropped to the ground.

He’d been with the team for years. Long before I’d joined the smokejumpers after my days of being a rodeo star had ceased to exist. For me they’d been lean days of making ends meet, working out, and taking tests.

“Nah, I just know how the game works.” Money was tight for everyone, more recruits needed.

“What do you think?” Dante asked. “Arson?”

Rock shrugged, wiping his face before answering. “Has all the earmarks. Second one this summer.”

“That’s why the firefighters need to keep their ass in gear.” Yeah, I was surly, even crankier than normal today.

I yanked at the jacket before wiping my face. The city council was always arguing with the Forestry Service on wildfire planning, even pushing a former smokejumper who’d had a seat out of office. The push and pull had already cost lives. The harsh sentiment wasn’t solely my opinion.

He glanced at me, shaking his head. “You can’t do that shit, kid. We count on each other. Every department is stretched thin. But you gotta maintain the rules.”

“What would you have preferred? That I let you die?”

He wasn’t allowed the opportunity to answer before Will appeared, yanking me off the ground.

Dante and Denver scrambled to their feet, helping Marcus to his, all three men backing away.

They knew exactly how my brother was. As the second in charge of the groups of teams, he had the say about who joined the hotshots.

I’d had to fight my way to gain the position. No nepotism allowed.

Hell, I’d already bypassed the norm of working as a wildland firefighter, instead training with the local fire department. Doing so had allowed me to continue participating on the rodeo circuit until I couldn’t do so any longer. That hadn’t won me any points with the crew.