“22-David-4,” the dispatcher said. “Ground rescue isn’t possible. Air support is en route. Can you get to an open field or to higher ground?”

“I’ll find a way,” Eve said.

She secured her seat belt, turned on the headlights, backed up, then put the car into drive, pressed the gas pedal to the floor, and charged into the curtain of smoke, bursting through the brown haze into the tall, thick, brittle brush. The field wasn’t on fire yet, but it soon would be. The tall vegetation and smoke made it virtually impossible to see what she was driving into but she had no choice but to venture on as fast as she could. The Explorer bounced violently on hardscrabble dirt, through the bushes and weeds, jostling her hard from side to side.

“I apologize about the rough ride,” Eve said to Caitlin. “It will be over soon.”

She wrestled to control the car and peered intently into the dense smoke, hoping for a break that would show her the way. Instead, a tree broke through the haze like a runaway freight train. She yanked the wheel hard to the right, sideswiping the tree and shearing off her mirror.

Within seconds of avoiding the tree, the Explorer slammed into a boulder hidden by the brush and came to a brutal stop. The airbag exploded in Eve’s face, stunning her.

It took a long second for Eve to regain her senses. Blood ran down her forehead. The front end of the Explorer was crumpled. The car wasn’t going anywhere. She looked over her shoulder into the back seat.

Somehow Caitlin had ended up on the floor. She was crying, but otherwise unhurt.

“We’re going to be okay,” Eve said, and looked out the back window. The house was consumed by fire, igniting the brush behind them, the voracious flames moving at incredible speed in their direction. She reached out for the radio and felt a pain so sharp, intense, and unexpected that she choked back a scream.

Her right wrist was broken and she knew how it had happened. She’d been gripping the steering wheel hard when the collision happened and the airbag blasted open against her rigid arm. It was a common injury, but that knowledge didn’t make it any less painful or inconvenient now. There was no time to make a brace. She’d have to power through it.

She picked up the radio with her left hand. “22-David-4. We’re going on foot, heading south of the house.”

There was no response. Eve could only hope that someone heard what she’d said. She got out of the car, opened the back door, and reached down to pick up Caitlin, bracing herself for the agony.

It felt like an iron spike was driven into her arm. She gritted her teeth against the pain, lifted up the child, and tried to shift most of Caitlin’s dead weight onto her left arm.