The first spark erupted in my heart. A blue blinding flame of light was the first and last light I would ever see. A flush of heat rocking me, exploding, and then no sound. Silence. A rushing, fierce wind I could not hear. Stoner’s voice flaming, then gone. The river flashed red as purgatory, suddenly summer. I knew without knowing that the heat had seared my uniform buckle to melting. My sleeves were flaming, the front of my shirt was flickering with light and falling from me. I could smell the dense smoke of my singed hair. My eyes pulsed with light. It was over. Stoner was gone. The fire consuming, roaring, a blaze beginning to quiet. The Buick ticked in the dying heat. I felt a singe of cold, my skin pocketing.

“Holy shit,” I heard the cowboy say above me. “Holy shit.”

“It just blew up,” I found myself saying, dazed and unblinking.

“That’s what I would say,” the cowboy said.

“Louise,” I said. “Is Louise OK?”

“She’s tough,” the cowboy said. “She’s still with us.”

I could hear the sirens. The bank above me lit up red with new traffic. The lights were frantic. I could make out the familiar slam of emergency doors, men about their business. I thought I heard Railer calling me and I turned to see. The men were coming down the hill with lamps and flashlights. Their headlamps shined above my head. My eyes were dry. When I touched my fingertips to my eyelids I felt the watering blisters.

“We’ve got an officer injured down here,” someone yelled.

“Over here,” a man said. He was standing by Stoner’s body. “We’ll need the tarp.”

Someone flashed a light in my face, then the light flickered on my arms, my torso. I could see I had a belly blister big as a pregnancy. “I’ll be damned,” Railer said to the others. “It looks like we got ourselves a hero here.”

I recognized another voice in the darkness, the voice of the Lake County sheriff. “You did what you could, Officer,” he was saying. “We’ll get you some help now.” He had never spoken to me with respect before.

They eased me onto the stretcher and carried me carefully up to the ambulance. I heard the cowboy giving his statement to Railer. “All I know,” he said, “is Officer Kicking Woman risked his life to try and save Mr. Stoner.”

They slid my stretcher in next to Louise. I watched her. I couldn’t take my eyes off her still face. And I watched until I saw her chest expand, gathering air. The fog had finally lifted. The night sky was so clear smoke rose from the wreckage like sparkling dust, so high, so high, then gone. I heard the small silver bells of chains nicking the road as we headed toward the hospital. I closed my eyes. Safe.

Baptiste Yellow Knife GIFTS