Chasing Fire

a madman with a gun had become the least of their problems.
    She stepped on the bottom corners of the foil, grabbed the tops to stretch it over her back. Mirroring her moves, Gull sent her a last look and shot her a grin that seared straight into her heart.
    “See you later,” he said.
    “See you later.”
    They flopped forward, cocooned.
    Working quickly, Rowan dug a hole for her face, down to the cooler air. Eyes shut, she took short, shallow breaths into the bandanna. Even one breath of the super-heated gases that blew outside her shelter would scorch her lungs, poison her.
    The fire hit, a freight train of sound, a tidal wave of heat. Wind tore at the shelter, tried to lift and launch it like a sail. Sparks shimmered around her, but she kept her eyes closed.
    And saw her father, frying fish over a campfire, the flames dancing in his eyes as he laughed with her. Saw herself spreading her arms under his on her first tandem jump. Saw him open his as she ran to him after he’d come back from a fire.
    Saw him, his face lit now by an inner flame as he told her about Ella.
    See you later, she thought as the impossible heat built.
    She saw Gull, cocky grin and swagger, pouring a helmet of water over her head. Saw him tip back a beer, cool as you please, then fight off a pack of bullies as ferocious as a fire devil.
    Felt him yank her into his arms. Turn to her in the dark. Fight with her in the light. Run with her. Run to her.
    He’d come through fire for her.
    The fear speared into her belly. She’d been afraid before, but she realized most of it was because she damn well wasn’t ready to die. Now she feared for him.
    So close, she thought while the fire screamed, crashed, burst. And yet completely separate. Nothing to do for each other now but wait. Wait.
    See you later.
    She held on. Thought of Yangtree, of Jim. Of Matt.
    Cards—God, Cards. Had Matt killed him, too?
    She wanted to see him again, see all of them again. She wanted to tell her father she loved him, just one more time. To tell Ella she was glad her father had found someone to make him happy.
    She wanted to joke with Trigger, rag on Cards, sit in the kitchen with Marg. To be with all of them, her family.
    But more, she realized, even more, she wanted to look into Gull’s eyes again, and watch that grin flash over his face.
    She wanted to tell him . . . everything.
    Why the hell hadn’t she? Why had she been so stubborn or stupid or—face it—afraid?
    If he didn’t make it through this so she could, she’d kick his ass.
    Dizzy, she realized, sick. Too much heat. Can’t pass out. Won’t pass out. As she regulated her breathing again, she realized something else.
    Quiet.
    She heard the fire, but the distant snarl and song. The ground held steady under her body, and the jet-plane thunder had passed.
    She was alive. Still alive.
    She reached out, laid a hand on her shelter. Still hot to the touch, she thought. But she could wait. She could be patient.
    And if she lived, he’d damn well better live, too.
    “Rowan.”
    Tears smarted her already stinging eyes at his voice, rough and ragged. “Still here.”
    “How’s it going there?”
    “Five-by-five. You?”
    “The same. It’s cooling down a little.”
    “Don’t get out yet, rook.”
    “I know the drill. I’m calling base. Anything you want me to pass on?”
    “Have L.B. tell my dad I’m A-OK. I don’t know about Cards. There was blood. They need to look for him. And for Matt.”
    She closed her eyes again, let herself drift, passing the next hour thinking of swimming in a moonlit lagoon, drinking straight from a garden hose, making snow angels—naked snow angels, with Gull.
    “Cards made it back,” he called out. “They had to medevac him. He lost a lot of blood.”
    “He’s alive.”
    Alone in her shelter, she allowed herself tears.
    When her shelter cooled to the touch, she called to Gull. “Coming out.”
    She eased her head out into the smoky air, looked over at Gull. She imagined they both looked like a couple of sweaty, parboiled turtles climbing out of their shells.
    “Hello, gorgeous.”
    She laughed. It hurt her throat, but she laughed. “Hey, handsome.”
    They crawled to each other over the blackened, ash-covered ground. She found his lips with hers, her belly quivering with a wrecked combination of laughter and tears.
    “I was going to be so pissed off at you if you died.”
    “Glad we avoided that.” He touched her face. “Heck of a ride.”
    “Oh,