Travis yanked again and wood cracked, releasing the wire. He gathered up the slack, then lowered the wire beside the pup and unwound the other end of it from her paw. The dog kicked in Hannah’s hold, then scrambled to her belly and crouched low, whimpering.
Fire licked down the tree trunk in front of them and engulfed the brittle undergrowth, which burst into flame.
“Come on!” Hannah shouted.
Travis grabbed Hannah’s elbow as she lifted the pup in her arms, and they shot to their feet and ran across the road to the truck. Heat nipped at their heels in waves while smoke and ash swirled in every direction.
Once inside the truck, Travis gunned the engine, executed a U-turn, then sped up the rough dirt road. Fire covered both sides of the road and shot upward, forming scorching walls that swept across the track on violent gusts of wind.
Travis hit the gas pedal harder and the truck barreled through black smoke and bright flames. Fiery embers pelted the windshield and debris banged the underside of the truck. The pup’s pants and his and Hannah’s heavy breaths rasped inside the hot, smoke-laced air of the cab.
Emerging from the black smoke, the truck groaned as Travis pushed it harder, pressing the gas pedal as far as it would go. Flames danced in every direction, licking at the truck’s metal frame. The earth sizzled and hissed as the tires spun past.
Sweat stung Travis’s eyes. He squeezed them shut, shook his head, and refocused on the road, his bloody palm slipping on the steering wheel.
“Oh, my God.” Hannah, staring at the side of the road ahead, wrapped her hand around his wrist and squeezed tight. “Travis . . .”
To the left, flames on the ground and strong wind converged, twisting into a flaming spiral that stretched high into the red sky. The blazing twister picked up speed, sucking up fiery debris, whirling and spinning in a deadly dance toward the road as if the devil himself had materialized from thin air.
“We can’t make it through that.” Hannah’s hoarse whisper barely rose above the pup’s heavy pants as it cowered in her lap. She stared helplessly at him, her face going pale. “It’ll burn us alive.”
Terror snaked through Travis as he lifted his foot from the gas pedal and slowed the truck. He glanced in the rearview mirror. Everything was aflame, and they couldn’t turn back—there was no other way out.
Travis looked at Hannah, the fear on her face increasing his. “Keep holding on to me”—he faced the twisting spiral of fire, then slammed his foot on the gas—“and close your eyes.”
* * *
They were in hell—there was no other word for it.
Eyes closed, Hannah squeezed Travis’s thick wrist with one hand and held the puppy close with the other, cringing as the truck’s engine roared.
Tree limbs and sharp underbrush scraped the passenger door and undercarriage of the truck, cracking and snapping as they passed. Heat intensified, stealing Hannah’s breath, and a red glow seeped past the black shade of her closed eyelids. Something sizzled and hissed, moving closer with each passing second.
A scream rose from her chest and she opened her mouth, but her throat constricted, trapping the sound.
Clumps of debris pelted the windshield, the sizzling sound nearby morphed into a roar, and something banged against the back end of the truck, sending the vehicle into a fishtailing skid.
Tires squealed and Travis muttered a curse, his wrist jerking beneath Hannah’s hold as he grappled with the steering wheel. With each sling of the truck, Hannah cradled the dog closer and pressed back in her seat, her spine stiff.
“Oh, God, please,” she choked. “Please get us out.”
The slinging motion slowed and the truck righted itself, but the pelting sound against the windshield grew louder.
Hannah froze, then whispered, “Travis?”
His harsh breaths mingled with the heavy pounding on the windshield; then his wrist turned over and his hand slid through her grip to lace his fingers with hers. “Open your eyes.”
She closed them tighter, a shaky gasp escaping her as the truck bounced over a pothole.
Travis squeezed her hand. “Look.”
Slowly, she lifted her eyelids and focused on the windshield. Small clumps of burned debris clung to the dusty glass, but heavy drops of water pounded the windshield, streaming through the dirt and grime and clearing the view.
A small smile curved her lips. “Rain.”
Travis flipped on the windshield wipers.
Cradling the puppy in her lap, she sat up straighter and glanced around. Fires still roared on both sides of the road and in the tops of trees, and the sky remained a burned orange, but it was raining.