Burn Season novel · Chapter 8 of 24

Chapter 8: Tower Has the Wind

By sunrise the north ridge fire was fifty acres, and the meadow below the tower had turned into a spike camp.

Tents went up beside Verna's woodpile.

Two squads of jumpers dropped their packs in the grass and checked their tools.

Walker sat on an overturned bucket at the camp radio with his ankle taped and his jaw tight.

He hadn't asked to be there.

The base manager had looked at his foot and put him on the net.

"You can't walk the line," he'd said. "You can talk to people who can."

Kasey ran the north flank.

She stood in the middle of the meadow in a clean yellow shirt, holding a map on a clipboard.

She gave her orders in a friendly voice.

"Bea, take the first four up the draw. Anchor at the rock cut and work uphill."

She smiled at the second squad.

"You stay here with me at the map."

Bea glanced at me in the tower window, high above her.

Then she picked up her pack and went.

I took my position in the cab and started the day's long job of watching.

The sky was clear and brassy, with no clouds, and the air had a dry edge I didn't like.

Around one o'clock a small dust devil spun across the old burn below the tower.

The smoke from the fire leaned a few degrees and then leaned back.

I watched it for ten minutes.

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