Roman
"This summer, when you boys go to the Blackwood Academy, you’ll get to –"
"I’m sorry grandfather," Roman said. He wouldn’t usually interrupt an elder in the pack but something was wrong. "Do you smell something burning?" Roman asked.
His grandfather sniffed the air. "I don’t smell anything at all."
That didn’t mean much. His grandfather was nearly ninety years old, and even enhanced senses started to fade. But Roman was certain – he smelled smoke. There had been forest fires in Alaska before, but they weren't too common in this area. His pack had been living in the area near the Steese National Conservation area, northeast of Fairbanks, Alaska, for hundreds of years.
Roman got up from the spot where he’d been sitting on the ground with his family.
His grandfather had resumed talking about the Blackwood Academy. For his entire life, Roman had heard the male members of his family talk about Blackwood Academy. His father and his pack mates would sit around the campfire, drinking ale and talking about their days at Blackwood. Every year they got together for a reunion. No one else was ever invited, only the class from that year.
Roman couldn’t stand the long wait. He’d started begging to go early when he was fourteen, arguing that he was the oldest child and the future Alpha, so of course he’d need to go. But his father was adamant – the academy was only for eighteen-year-olds. But Roman was close. He would be turning eighteen the next week, so he’d finally get his turn.
But none of that mattered right then. The acrid smell of burning wood grew stronger. Something was very wrong. "Grandfather!" he yelled. "The woods are on fire. I know it."
"We never get forest fires up here," his mother said.
Maybe not. But that didn’t mean someone didn’t set it deliberately. Or a human could have left the campfire burning for too long, or they could have carelessly flicked a cigarette, or shot a firework into their pristine woods.
There was a legend of another pack who had deliberately started a fire to get revenge on another pack. He didn’t think they had any enemies. But his father didn’t always share pack business with him.
His mother stood up, circling the area where his grandfather still sat. Now his grandfather finally began to sniff the air and so did his grandmother, who had just come out of her hut to join them.
"That's definitely a fire," Roman’s mother said. "I smell Black Spruce wood burning. The scent is quite clear." She took one of the younger pups by the hand. "I’m going to find your father."
His family was far too casual about this. Roman went to the nearest birch tree and climbed to the top. He only needed about two seconds to see that they were in a lot of fucking trouble. For a second, he froze. Miles away, orange flames consumed the trees covering the mountainside.
Then he remembered. They had a plan in case they ever needed to evacuate. His father had made them practice dozens of times. The plan was one that they all knew – every shifter who was physically able was supposed to check on other shifters – Roman’s father had assigned each of them five or six shifters that they were responsible for, so that no shifter was abandoned by accident.
There was no time to waste. Roman scaled back down as fast as he could.
"Father!" he yelled. They all needed their Alpha. In the meantime, Roman would do what he could. He raced to his grandmother. "The fire is bad. We have to move to the west. Get the rest of the pups and get to Hemlock Lake."
His grandmother’s face went white, but she nodded and started gathering children. Quickly, Roman grabbed the five people he was responsible for. Two of them were an elderly couple, two were shifters who’d been injured and couldn’t run quickly, and one was his younger brother, who tended to hide in times of crisis.
He got them all evacuated safely, and then he went back to their home. He ran through the pack land, yelling to anyone he found to gather the people they were assigned to help evacuate, then get the hell away. "Cross the lake if you can," he yelled. "Go!"
Finally, his father came running back into the clearing. "Roman. Good thinking climbing the tree and getting everyone moving," he yelled.
"What else can I do?" Roman yelled back.
"Find your sisters. They’re out fishing. Then start counting when you get to the clearing by the lake. Roman, I need you to make sure everyone’s out." His father paused long enough to grab his shoulders. "But do not run into the fire."
"Got it." Roman was only seventeen now, but his father was the Alpha of the pack and one day he would take over. "What are you going to be doing?"
"Checking the edges for stragglers. You work on our family members and anyone else assigned to you."
Roman didn’t bother to mention that he’d already gathered everyone he was supposed to rescue. He just got to work. He found his sisters fishing in a deep stream, and he got them over to Hemlock Lake. Everyone from their pack was huddled together on the shore. Some were crying, some were blank-faced. The smell of smoke clung to all of them.
Some were starting to cross, but others were frozen. Roman pulled out a few of the canoes they kept hidden. "Come on. Start crossing. Swim if you can. Get in the canoe if you can’t."
Where was his father? He still wasn't anywhere to be found. "I have to go," Roman said. He shook his cousin’s shoulder. "Help everyone get across the lake.”
Roman took off running.
"Roman!" his mother shouted from behind him, but he ignored her. He had to find his father. He couldn't feel his father through their bond, but he ran harder. He got back to the place where their pack had once lived. A solid wall of flames kept him from going further.