Chapter 12

Troy watched the fire from a vantage point on a high shoulder and brought all his knowledge of the terrain to the front of his mind until he had a complete picture of the situation. He saw bright orange feelers begin to filter into the drier growth higher up, and he knew that the hiatus was over. His people would have to be moved out very soon or be trapped on the tip of the match.

The old logging road ran parallel to the regular road in only two places, and one of those places was where they had come up. That escape route was closed to them now because the ground in between was in flames. The other place presented certain possibilities along with probable dangers, but the only alternative was to load his people in the bus, head downhill, Twelve ... and pray that they would not overturn in the absence of a road of any sort. That would be very foolhardy.

Three or four stretches along the place where the roads ran close just might be negotiable, and the problem resolved itself around choosing the right one. Perhaps fifty yards of steep bank separated the roads there, and it was almost impossible to tell about the steepness and smoothness from this distance. Troy chose a route with care and decided to let the final choice of where to plunge down the band depend upon a closer look. He realized that this particular decision would have to be made in a split second, and luck would have a major share in the success or failure of the attempt.

The fire picked up tempo with the afternoon heat, and a wind formed from its updraft speeded it along. He went back to camp with a sense of urgency hurrying his steps.

He counted noses and was about to send out a searching party for Marilyn when she came out of the bushes with a dazed and bemused expression on her face. He assembled his party and made his intentions known. His decision to plunge through the fireline was met with doubt, hesitancy, fright, panic, disapproval, and outright rebellion.

They were safe here, so why not remain until someone came to rescue them? What was the sense of jumping into sure danger? Who said that the fire was on its way here? Why hadn't the fire come up here before? Most of the group seemed to think that they could poll their numbers and vote the fire out of existence.

Troy found that he had few supporters. Jay Berry went along with him for general principles. His wife, Helene, went along with the hope that her support would be rewarded with sex at some future time. Angela sided with him for unknown reasons, and only Janey Daybird was with him for the proper reasons. She knew that his solution was the only tenable one under the circumstances.

For some odd reason Marilyn Burns vehemently refused to go anywhere at all, and her husband knew that when her mind was made up so definitely, he had better side with her or suffer the consequences. Troy revised his timetable and knew that as he did so he had lengthened the odds against them. He could not force them to go along, and he could not leave them behind. His conscience was suffering over the case of Bart Coldridge, and he knew that he was justified in leaving the young man.

He led a march down the road to the rocky shoulder and let them see for themselves what was in store. He pointed out the path of the fire, and some of the disbelievers changed their minds. Suddenly there was a majority in favor of the move. The parade back was at a standoff between a fast walk and a slow run.

Troy saw that their meager stores were loaded on the bus, and Jay helped Jefferson Burns forcibly put his wife aboard. Troy kicked life into the engine, and as he moved off, he saw Bart Coldridge run from the brush to cling to the luggage rack. So far, his party was complete and unharmed. He prayed that it would remain so.

The bus lumbered down the logging road. They felt the heat from the fire before they saw it, and then panic reigned again. The licking tongues of flame that from the top had seemed to be unimportant now appeared to them as solid sheets of towering fire.

There was hot, gray ash piling up on the windshield and the wiper chose that moment to develop a mechanical defect. Troy's vision was partially blocked at the moment he needed it most. He was pleasantly surprised when help came from an unexpected source. Angela climbed around him and opened the side window. Before he could protest she was halfway out, wiping a clear spot in the corner. She inched herself out farther, and the spot grew larger.

He took a hand off the wheel long enough to tug at her to make her know that that was as far as she should go. He let her stay there in the hot fallout until he neared his place of decision; then pulled her back in and brushed his lips across the back of her grimy hand in appreciation for what she had done. His choice of a place to turn off the road was suddenly no choice at all. The wind whipped around, and the road ahead was an inferno.

He spun the wheel, and the bus left the road with a sickening lurch. He was headed downhill, and the ride was a ride into hell. Instant heat seared the rubber that held the windshield and the stench was overpowering. He saw the paint on the hood rise up in liquid blisters, and the headlights popped with the sudden change of temperature. He had rolled the side window back up, and it became opaque with a million tiny cracks.

He felt rather than saw the regular road, and he spun the bus wheels madly in an effort to right the bus on the road. He knew that a rear wheel was dangling off the edge for a long second, and then he felt balance again, and he thanked God. The left front tire blew out first, and the others went in rapid succession. He had a hasty thought of concern for Bart Coldridge, and then his attention was taken up by catastrophe. The blowing tires had made the bus totally unmanageable, and Troy lost control. He did manage to spin the wheels to keep the bus from immediately overturning, and then, they were plunging down the mountainside and gathering speed. He smashed the gearshift into reverse and grinned tightly as teeth sheared off.

They were out of the fireline in a flash, and Troy's incredibly fast reflexes let him head the bus into a clump of still-burning trees. The trees slowed them down to a snail's pace, and then it was all over as the bus careened, then rolled gently over on its side. Troy got shakily to his feet and was squashed back down as frantic passengers lost their heads and scrambled madly for the door.

Someone opened the door, which was now on top, and then a maniacal pandemonium held sway as passengers screamed and tore their way to the outside. He sat down on the steering wheel and waited for the turmoil to subside. He could do nothing but get seriously injured in trying to stem the frantic tide. He had checked the gas level early in the morning and had drained off all but what he thought they would need, so there was little danger of the bus turning into a blazing torch.

He knew that the tank would eventually blow when the vapor became sufficiently heated, but that would take at least a minute or two. He looked around, and he and Angela were the only ones left. He helped her up through the door and followed her, after tossing out what he could reach in the way of food and blankets.

The passengers had huddled into a dazed mass, and only a couple of them came to help with the salvage. The gas tank blew up, but the explosion was a puny one because the tank had been split part way open when the bus went on its side. Troy and Angela joined the group on a hot and smoldering island that had been burned clean of light brush cover. They could feel the ground heat through the soles of their shoes, but it was not unbearable.

Troy was patting himself on the back for a job well done, when several among his passengers started voicing their complaints. He found out that he was to receive no credit for getting them through alive, but he was to be blamed for the loss of the bus and most of the supplies. It was patently evident that they had considered it his duty to look after them. He knew that few, if any, had thought to take an armful of supplies with them on leaving the bus.

They were safe for the moment, but now Troy's troubles were of another kind. He had to get these people down to a place of safety before they perished of starvation and exposure. He had to-Marilyn Burns shrieked and pointed. Bart Coldridge had managed to hang on to the bus through the wall of fire, but he was in sad shape from the horrible singeing he had had to endure. His hair was gone, and his face was misshapen with raw burns. His clothing was smoldering, and some idiot used up a whole canteen of precious water in dousing the moaning form. The cold water caused Bart new agony, and he mercifully fainted from pain and shock.

Lorena Diaz had a broken shoulder, Jonni had a broken or badly sprainied foot, Andra Flemming had an ugly gash from the bridge of her nose to her ear, and no one was entirely unscratched. Troy totaled up the casualties and added Owney Lee and Janey Daybird to the list. There would be no hurried group parade back down the mountain.

The first thing to do was to find a suitable place nearby to set up camp again. He sent the able-bodied out to reconnoiter, and then he took stock of the salvaged supplies. Rationing was inevitable. Less than half of the blankets remained, and that meant doubling up. He would build and maintain warming fires to ward off the night cold. Food was the main problem.

He hoped for news of near water, but he was disappointed In this when his scouts returned to report. Jay told of a small valley nearby that the fire had missed, and Troy began moving his charges there. The move was accomplished with great difficulty, because several of the injured had to be carried. Troy and Jay were nominated for the carrying simply because there was no one else to do it. He was dead tired and fully irritated when the thing was finally done.

He gave orders about the fires and then curled up beside one of them to sleep. His rest was interrupted time and again by silly questions, inane complaints, and a proposition for sex by Vera Bartok. He answered the questions as best he could, bore the complaints with patience, and turned down Vera's proposition. Angela finally had to stand guard over him to let him get a couple of hours of sleep.

He woke up around three in the morning with a stiffness in his muscles. He sat up to think out his problems, and Angela joined him beside the small fire.

"What the hell are you doing up? You must be dead tired."

Her grin was taut with effort. "Well, someone had to watch the food supply. Besides I had to change bandages on Bart. Marilyn was supposed to take care of him, but she just couldn't make it."

"Go to bed now. I'll stay up the rest of the night."

"In a minute. How does it look for us now? No lies, Troy. I can take it if I know what to face."

"Food and water are the main problems. We'll be found eventually, but we've moved around too much to expect a quick rescue. If I were looking for me, it sure wouldn't be around here. I'd give myself credit for more sense than to be in a spot like this."

"It wasn't your fault for being here. I know that we'd have been out by now if we'd have stayed at Casper's Crossing."

He patted her hand, and she clasped his fingers as if for reassurance of his strength. He made her roll up in a blanket, and she grinned tiredly as he clumsily tucked her in. She was asleep in a moment, and he went back to his thinking.

About a half hour later, Vera Bartok got up and joined him at the warming fire. "Is there coffee?"

Troy shook his head.

"Schoolteachers aren't good for much outside of the classroom. Especially homely ones like me."

"Don't be silly. I was dog tired last night. That's all there was to it."

She grinned sheepishly. "Then you are not tired now?"

He sighed. He had been trapped. "No, I'm not tired now, but we'd better get started if it's going to happen. It won't be long until dawn. There's not much time left."

She rose to her feet and went to her blanket. She looked around and then carried it to a shadowy spot where he could still guard the supplies. He followed her there and saw a small heap of underclothing neatly folded and piled nearby. He wondered why anyone would assume leadership on his own. Not only did leaders have added responsibilities, but they were also called upon for extra sex.

This girl now had little in common with her two companions. They were lithe and supple, but this girl was stolid and heavy-boned with the full, solid flesh of a worker. She was not the least bit sexy, and yet Troy supposed that her inner hungers were identical to theirs. He sat down beside her.

She took his hand and put it on the bare joining of her heavy legs. Her grin was almost apologetic. "Maybe if you close your eyes it wouldn't be so bad."

He had the good grace to blush as he stretched out beside her. He took his hand from her groin and placed it on one of her ponderous breasts. His fingers closed on it tentatively. Her nipples were amazingly small and erect.

She pulled his hand away and again placed it between her legs. "It is not necessary to love me, Troy. I know I'm a big cow of a woman and nothing about me is feminine or dainty. I'm like the brood mare who needs to be serviced once in a while."

She did something to her bottom, and Troy felt the fat-padded mound of her womanhood rise for his taking. She had tucked in her buttocks and rolled her thighs outward so that the white inner skin of her legs was uppermost. He rolled over onto that padding, and he was surprised when he found that his preconceptions about her being loose and large turned out to be wrong.

Her large body wrung itself out against him at first contact in almost instant orgasm. He had thought to take her advice and close his eyes to imagine his partner to be thinner, sexier, and daintier, but there was no need. Vera was all woman, and she proved it over and over again to him.

He tired, and she rolled him to his back without missing a single stroke. He never felt her full weight, but he did feel her sensuous motions as she manipulated him with her body. She was astoundingly adept, and her large frame offered him her passage with delicate grace.

She whispered in his ear that her passage was now hurting and that she was satisfied with more sexual activity than she had counted on. She told him to lie still and she would bring him off. She raised her lower body until the union was severed, and then she came back down on him with another penetration in another place in her body. It was his first experience with this kind of intercourse, and he wondered about the utter simplicity with which it had been offered. The thought of what was happening was too much for him, and his passion jutted forth in a burst that left him breathless and at peace. The eastern sky was becoming light when he left her.