Daniel stepped back and knew something big had happened. There was a baby and then there wasn’t. A brother or sister. As far as he knew, another chance never came. Whatever anger Daniel felt, whatever childish resentment he held against his mother and Koji, only left him embarrassed now. He looked toward the smoke-filled, suffocating darkness. He had to find Koji.

“Uncle Koji!”

Daniel paused and coughed, his throat parched and raw. He was scared and wasn’t sure how much farther he could go before the path was completely engulfed in smoke. Where was Koji? He could hardly see two feet in front of him. Just after he rounded the next bend, the smoke thinned and he saw Koji’s dark shadow lying on the ground. Daniel rushed to him, his instincts kicking in. He gently turned him over. There was a gash bleeding profusely below his hairline. He felt for a pulse on his neck, then quickly took off his own shirt to stanch the flow of blood from Koji’s forehead.

“Uncle Koji,” he said, patting his cheek. “Uncle Koji.” He heard a soft moan and saw movement. “It’s okay,” Daniel said. “I’m here.”

Koji tried to sit up but slumped back down.

“Stay still,” Daniel said. He put more pressure on his forehead.

“Tripped.”

“Looks like your forehead took the brunt of it. Are you feeling pain anywhere else?”

“No,” Koji said. He began to cough, his hand rising to his forehead.

Daniel waited until his coughing subsided. “Can you stand up?” he asked.

Koji nodded.

“We need to get out of here!” Daniel said. “Come on.”

He helped to lift Koji to his feet, his uncle leaning heavily against Daniel as he half dragged him back down the smoked-filled trail toward the truck. The spitting, crackling noise felt closer and louder, as if the fire were chasing them down the path. Koji’s foot slipped and they almost fell when Daniel found his balance and managed to heave his uncle back up.

“Leave me,” he heard Koji tell him.

“Never! We just have to move faster,” Daniel said, raising his voice against the hot wind of the firestorm. “Just a little farther,” he encouraged.

Koji grunted, and seemed to understand as he began to push forward. They picked up their pace until they finally glimpsed the truck through the murky air up ahead.

“There’s the truck,” Daniel said.

“The truck,” Koji said, squeezing his shoulder, coughing.

Daniel breathed a sigh of relief when Koji was finally in the truck, leaning heavily against the passenger-side window, his eyes closed. Daniel quickly backed the truck, completely engulfed in smoke now, out of the narrow dirt track and onto the main road. From there it was an easy drive down the mountain to Hilo Hospital.

“Hold on,” Daniel said. “You’re going to be all right.”

Koji lifted his hand in response but didn’t say a word.

* * *