Mountain Town of Gable Threatened by Blaze

Whitney turns toward it and then slowly looks back at me. “I’m going with you.”

Forty-Three

Whitney

Aunt Jackie, Cricket, and Hunter promised they would send updates as soon as they heard anything, but my brain puts that aside as we fly toward the inferno that used to be a forest-covered mountain.

Lincoln and I are both quiet, but his hand grips mine tighter as we fly into hell. I know he’s thinking the same thing I am—this is bad. Really fucking bad.

Magnus and Commodore’s houses are still a few miles ahead, and right on the border of the forest the fast-moving fire has already devoured.

“We have to get him out!” I yell it into my headset and Lincoln nods.

“We will. Don’t worry.”

My heart lodges in my throat as I see the outlines of the two cabins on the edge of the cliff. Thankfully, they’re not yet engulfed in flames, but thick smoke and flying ash make it almost impossible to see the wooden siding. Siding that will go up faster than newspaper.

As soon as the chopper touches down, I rip off my harness and climb out. My feet hit the ground and I take off in a dead run, yelling my great-uncle’s name.

“Magnus!”

“Whitney!” Lincoln runs after me, but I don’t stop.

When I reach the door, the familiar sight of a long barrel greets me as it pokes through the window, where he’s cut a hole in the screen.

“I’ll shoot you! Looters are only getting bullets here!”

“It’s me, Whitney! We have to get you out of here, Magnus!”

Magnus lowers the rifle, and a moment later, the door opens. “What the hell are you doing here, girl? Didn’t you see there’s a fire coming in quick?”

“What the hell are you still doing here?” I ask him.

“Just about to make my way down to the river to float out.”

Of course. Leave it to Magnus to have an escape route planned.

“We’ve got a helicopter. It’ll be quicker.”

“You don’t say?” He looks out the window, and the whap-whap of the rotors is drowned out by the crack of trees falling in the woods and the thundering wind.

“Let’s go!”

I grab the bag off the floor that I assume Magnus wants to bring. As I turn, Lincoln’s there, taking it from my hand.

“Anything else, sir? Because we have to go. Now.”

“Then move your ass, boy. I don’t want to be burned to a crisp.”

With that, we all hurry to the helicopter and climb in. As soon as we’re buckled in, the bird lifts off the ground.

Magnus settles his headset over his ears and asks, “Where the hell are we going?”

“The estate.”

“Oh, good. I miss that damn dog.”

Before I can ask him what the hell he’s talking about, I’m distracted by the flames and heat barreling down the mountain like a runaway train.

This is bad. Really bad.