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  Buttons had finally stopped barking, so Anne put him on the ground. The dog decided he didn’t hate Emily after all. It pawed at her legs, demanding attention.

  “You must still be in high school,” said Anne.

  “Yes, I’m just fifteen.”

  “Will you be missing your friends over the summer?”

  Emily most definitely would not. She’d been voted Ugliest Girl in the School by the boys’ soccer team. One of the worst days of her life was when she learned that a locker room conversation about female beauty had taken a cruel turn. Several girls who were seen as lacking in physical charm were nominated. There was a show of hands. Emily won. All the details were on Facebook. Everybody read it, which added to Emily’s humiliation. The boys got in big trouble with the school. The ringleader was suspended.

  Emily nearly answered with, “I don’t really have any friends and I certainly don’t like my school much,” but decided that might lead to awkward questions. Instead she said, “I’m looking forward to some new experiences.”

  Eric peered into the smog. “Are you with that group of young people?” He began coughing.

  “Yes. We’re supposed to be on an outdoor adventure, where we learn all sorts of survival skills. It looks like this is as close as we’re going to get to the wilderness. All the forest fires have messed things up.”

  Eric managed to catch his breath. “There’s a man over there waving at you.”

  “That’s Big John,” sighed Emily. “He’s our expedition leader. I’d better see what he wants. It was nice meeting you.”

  “He looks anxious,” said Eric, peering through the haze. The wind picked up and a small dirt devil splattered the three of them with gravel.

  Three

  Just as Emily rejoined the other campers a rusty pickup truck with a Beaver Creek Campground logo on the door skidded to a halt in front of their picnic table. The driver rolled down the window and shouted at Big John.

  “Don’t unpack! A neighbour just called to say there’s a fire burning on the other side of the highway. I’m going to check it out for myself.” He sped off.

  Todd was the only one who took the news calmly. “I told you guys I saw a fire,” he said smugly. “Maybe now you’ll listen to me.”

  “Everybody stay here!” shouted Big John. “Don’t wander off.” He quickly counted the campers to make certain nobody was missing. “Okay, I want everybody to get into the van in case we have to leave in a hurry.”

  “I think it’s too late,” said one of the boys. He pointed to the end of the access road, where a pine tree was burning. A large spark landed at his feet. He stepped on the ember and put it out.

  “The fire has jumped the highway,” said Big John. He was trying hard to speak calmly, although the sweat pouring off his forehead indicated his true feelings. “The wind is getting stronger every minute, and it’s driving the flames. The access road will be closed shortly, if it isn’t already.”

  Moments later his prediction came true. The campground pickup truck arrived in a cloud of dust. Emily suspected the driver must be the campground’s owner. She thought the man looked and sounded like someone who had just realized that everyone he owned was about to be destroyed. His eyes bulged, sweat poured down his face, and his hands were shaking. “Get out right now!” he shouted. “Don’t use the road. It’s a death trap. Head toward the south end of the campground.” He pointed to where he wanted them to go. “There’s a path that runs along the creek. It will lead you to an iron bridge that crosses the highway. You’ll be safe if you stay in the middle of the bridge.” Then he drove off to shout the same warning to all the other campers.

  Big John ran to the van and removed a backpack from under his seat. He handed it to the blonde girl, who appeared to be in a state of shock. “This has all the phones I confiscated from you guys. We’ll need them to call for help or tell your parents that you’re okay. Don’t lose the bag. It’s all we’re taking.”

  The girl nodded, but fear had stolen her power of speech.

  “Is everyone wearing proper footwear?” Big John took a quick look at their feet. Luckily nobody had removed their sturdy hiking boots. Emily’s boots were a size too big. They’d belonged to her aunt, who had briefly dated an outdoorsman and bought the boots because she thought she’d have to go on lots of hikes. The relationship hadn’t lasted and the aunt stored the boots in a closet until she discovered her niece was going camping. She’d been only too happy to give them away. The hiking boots felt heavy and awkward. Emily would have much preferred to be wearing light sports shoes.

  The wide-eyed campers obediently fell in behind Big John, who led them to the campsite where Emily had met Eric and Anne Rossi. The elderly campers were each pulling a heavy suitcase behind them.

  “Leave those behind,” ordered Big John. “It’s only stuff. You can easily replace possessions. Come with us. We have to get out of here.”

  His advice to the couple was sensible. They moved slowly, probably because of age, even after abandoning their luggage. They also seemed confused by the noise and smoke and Emily suspected they wouldn’t make it very far on their own. The fire was moving too quickly. Anne was terrified and held Buttons tightly. The poodle was wild with fear and tried to squirm out of his owner’s grasp. Eric offered to take the dog from his wife, but she realized he didn’t have the strength to hold it. He was already gasping for breath and walking with difficulty.

  The wind was becoming more intense with every minute. Red embers suddenly filled the air. It was like standing in a blizzard, but instead of snowflakes the campers were being pelted with hot coals. Sparks landed all around. Emily saw a clump of dried grass burst instantly into flames. She was astonished to see how quickly the fire was spreading. It made a terrible rushing sound, unlike anything she had ever heard before.

  Trees lining the access road started to explode in the heat. Emily had no idea such a thing was even possible. She stared, open-mouthed, as the trunk of a poplar tree was transformed into a cloud of splinters. The sound of the fire would have drowned out normal conversation, if anyone had wanted to talk. One of the boys suddenly screamed and started slapping his back. A large ember had landed on him, burning through his shirt and singeing the skin.

  They joined a stream of people who were abandoning their campsites and vehicles. A few were carrying a handful of possessions, but most were leaving with nothing more than the clothes on their backs. Because the weather had been scorching hot for weeks, most of the campers weren’t wearing more than shorts and T-shirts. Emily saw two teenage girls in bikinis and flip-flops. She was one of the few people who had covered her arms and legs. She was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved sweatshirt. It had nothing to do with modesty and everything to do with wanting to avoid insect bites, which always left her with ugly rashes and painful itches.

  Emily was walking next to the Rossis, silently urging them to pick up the pace but recognizing that they were going as fast as they possibly could. They arrived a campsite where a middle-aged couple were having a furious fight. The woman wanted to join the campers fleeing on foot. Her husband wanted to drive their motorhome through the flames.

  “It might ruin the paint job, but we’ll make it.”

  Tears were streaming down her face. “We’ll both die! Everything’s on fire.”

  “The road isn’t burning!” he shouted. “The road is made of dirt and dirt doesn’t burn.”

  His rant was interrupted when a car parked near the campground office went up in flames.

  The woman pointed toward the burning vehicle with a shaky hand. “That’s what’s going to happen to us if we try to drive out of here.”

  Her husband stared at the burning vehicle for a moment, turned pale, and grabbed his wife’s hand. They looked around, unsure where to head, and finally noticed the column of refugees. Emily motioned for them to follow. At least her group had been given directions.

  Big John’s booming voice cut through the din. “There’s no need to pan
ic. If we look after each other we’ll all make it.”

  There were quite a few older people and lots of families with kids. One woman was carrying a baby and trying to herd two other small children. Emily saw Big John scoop up the two youngsters and say something to the mother, who nodded and smiled weakly.

  The refugees badly needed a leader and it looked to Emily that Big John was rising to the occasion. Earlier that day she’d been annoyed by what she considered his fake cheerfulness. Now she was impressed with how calm he was in a crisis.

  Her fellow campers, who had been cursing their expedition leader just a few minutes earlier, now began to follow his example. They made sure nobody was in danger of being left behind, offering an arm whenever someone stumbled. A family had brought a parrot along on their camping trip and one of the boys was carrying the cage. Emily stayed next to Anne and Eric Rossi, who had been so friendly toward her. They were having trouble keeping up with the column and she felt protective of them.

  The fire was moving toward them fast, jumping from one treetop to another.

  Someone shouted, “There goes the campground offices.”

  Emily looked over her shoulder and saw flames shooting high into the sky. It was barely possible to see the outline of a building through the smoke. There was a loud explosion, followed by a second.

  “There go the propane tanks!” said the man who’d been arguing with his wife.

  “We’re almost at the creek!” yelled Big John. “Hurry up! We’ve reached the trail.”

  There were already scattered fires on both sides of the trail. Emily could see it wouldn’t be long before the small fires joined together to create solid walls of flame.

  Anne tried to pick up the pace, but her foot hit a tree root and she stumbled. Buttons, who was still whining and wriggling, broke free from his owner’s grasp. The poodle hit the ground hard, yelped, and raced toward an abandoned tent.

  Anne screamed, “Buttons! Come here!”

  The poodle seemed to have lost his mind. He barked hysterically as he ran behind the tent and out of sight.

  The look of horror on Anne’s face convinced Emily she had to act. She ran after the poodle, frantically calling his name. As she reached the abandoned campsite she saw the dog race behind a nearby tree.

  “Emily! Come back! Leave the dog!” The voice belonged to Big John

  Emily looked back toward the trail. Big John was still holding a child in each arm.

  Anne and Eric Rossi clearly didn’t want to leave their pet behind. They were being pushed and pulled along the path by some of the teen campers. Emily was just about to start running back toward the path when she heard a whine. Buttons stuck his head out from behind a tree. He was whimpering and shivering.

  Trying to keep her voice calm Emily called the dog. The howling wind must have drowned out her voice. Buttons didn’t seem to hear her. Emily called again, louder this time. The poodle heard and looked in her direction. Mustering all her self-control Emily walked steadily toward him, determined not to make any sudden moves that might spook it. She was almost within reach of the animal when they were engulfed by a cloud of sparks. Emily felt a searing pain on her left leg. A large ember had burned through the denim. She screamed and slapped at it. The spark dropped down the inside the pant leg, scorching flesh as it fell. Sobbing in pain and fear Emily turned to where she’d last seen Buttons. She was just in time to see it disappear into some thick bush.

  “Buttons!” she yelled, knowing it was too late.

  A powerful gust of searing wind knocked her to her knees. Emily got up, staggered a few steps, looked around, and was appalled to discover flames had nearly surrounded her. The way back to the path was blocked. She was alone.

  A fearsome crackling above her head caused her to look up. The top of the tree she was standing under erupted in flame. All around, clumps of grass and small bushes were being set alight by the flying sparks. The smoke was suddenly so thick that the path to the creek was no longer visible. The roar of the fire was painfully intense.

  Coughing from the smoke, swatting at the embers hurtling past her head, Emily turned and ran in the one direction where she could still see green. She had no idea where she was going or what lay ahead, but knew she only had seconds to escape.

  The forest that surrounded the campground had very little underbrush, but the ground was covered with a thick carpet of dried needles and pine cones. An endless stream of flying embers was setting off a new fire every few seconds.

  Emily pushed her way through a grove of saplings. The leaves were green, meaning they wouldn’t flare up as easily as the pine needles. She paused, looking for an escape route and was dismayed to discover the blaze had encircled her. Emily had nearly given up hope when she noticed a huge log lying on the ground. The forest floor was burning in front of it, but the flames were only knee high. The log was acting as a fire break. Brush on the other side of the log wasn’t yet burning.

  Fuelled by terror she raced toward the fallen tree, hoping to hurdle the flames and land on top of the log. She wasn’t a good jumper, and she sailed through, rather than over the blaze. Her feet landed on the log, but it was covered with slippery moss and she nearly fell backward into the fire. Recovering her balance at the last possible second, she lurched forward and then landed face-first on the hard ground. Winded, but knowing there wasn’t a moment to spare, she got up and staggered into the unknown.

  Four

  Fighting to catch her breath Emily lurched from one tree to another, briefly holding on to each one for support. Her lungs burned from exertion and breathing in so much smoke. She frantically scanned the forest ahead. There was a slender strip of green, showing where the trees weren’t yet aflame.

  Spurred on by terror Emily began to run. At one point the fires on both sides were so close that it was like being in a hot oven. As she raced through the flames Emily found herself in a small clearing. The wind wasn’t quite as strong as it had been a few minutes earlier, so she was able to put a little distance between herself and the flames.

  She paused for a moment, trying to decide which direction to take, when she heard frantic voices and loud metallic banging. Emily turned toward the noise. The prospect of rescue gave her renewed strength. A dark shape bounded past, nearly knocking her over. It was a whitetail buck, galloping for its life. The deer had spent its entire life in this forest. Maybe it knew the way to safety. She ran after it and quickly found herself on a well-worn path.

  The voices were clearer now. Two men were having a ferocious argument. One of them shouted, “Forget the boat!”

  “No! I’m taking the boat!” yelled the other. “It will just take a minute.”

  “We don’t have a minute!”

  “Yes we do! I won’t tie it to the trailer.”

  “That’s pointless. It’ll just fall off!”

  Emily saw a flash of blue through the trees. A lake! Moments later she saw a wooden sign that read Hawkeye Lake Recreation Site. From her left came the sound of a car door slamming. Through the trees she caught a glimpse of an SUV with a boat trailer. There was an aluminum fishing skiff on the trailer.

  “Don’t go!” screamed Emily. “Wait for me! Please!”

  The men couldn’t hear her cry for help. It was drowned out by the roar of the fire. The wind had picked up again. The driver floored the accelerator and the SUV’s wheels threw up a volley of stones as the vehicle sped away. The unsecured boat bounced wildly every time the trailer hit a rock or rut in the road.

  The access road was flanked on both sides by sheets of flames, but the driver was clearly determined to race through them. Emily was nearly overcome with grief as she watched her ride to safety disappear. Moments later there was a thunderous crash. Emily assumed the boat had fallen off the trailer.

  Sensing that the lake offered the only hope of escape Emily ran to the water’s edge. The boat launch was just a muddy bank that gently sloped into the lake. There was an oar lying on the ground, next to a large cooler. A
half-eaten lunch was spread across a nearby picnic table, proof that the forest fire had moved so quickly that people were caught off guard. Several fishing rods leaned against a tree.

  The lake was long. She couldn’t see either end. The opposite shore was far enough away that it would have been barely possible to see people walking on the shoreline. There were a number of cabins on the other side. A few were close together, but most sat alone on big lots, close to the water. Hopefully someone had decided to spend the long weekend at their cottage and would see her standing at the boat launch.

  Emily wished the men had left the aluminum boat behind. She could have pushed it into the water and then use the oar to pole herself out into the lake and away from the rapidly approaching flames.

  Nobody on the opposite shore was coming to rescue her. That was now obvious. Even if someone saw her they wouldn’t be able to cross the lake in time. She was going to have to swim to safety. Swimming was one of the many athletic activities that Emily wasn’t very good at, but at least she’d taken lessons as a little girl. She realized it would be impossible to swim with heavy hiking boots on her feet. She took the boots off, tied the laces together, and hung them around her neck.

  The cooler that had been abandoned by the fishermen contained a bag of ice and half a dozen cans of beer. It was made of thick plastic and had a lid that locked securely into place. Even better, it had large carrying handles that would make it easier to hold on to. Emily tipped the cooler over, scattering ice and cans of beer across the ground. She locked the lid into place and tossed the container into the water. She was relieved to see that it bobbed on the surface. It should make an excellent float.

  On the shore, near the oar, was a log. It was as thick as Emily’s arm and nearly as long as she was. Somebody had probably put it there to use as firewood. By tucking the oar and driftwood under one arm, and holding onto the cooler with the other hand, she might have enough buoyancy to keep from drowning.