It
screamed, Rowan thought as she tore the protective case off her fire shelter,
shook it out. Or Matt screamed, but a madman with a gun had become the least of
their problems.
She
stepped on the bottom corners of the foil, grabbed the tops to stretch it over
her back. Mirroring her moves, Gull sent her a last look and shot her a grin
that seared straight into her heart.
“See you later,” he said.
“See you later.”
They flopped forward, cocooned.
Working quickly, Rowan dug a hole for her face, down to the cooler air.
Eyes shut, she took short, shallow breaths into the bandanna. Even one breath
of the super-heated gases that blew outside her shelter would scorch her lungs,
poison her.
The fire
hit, a freight train of sound, a tidal wave of heat. Wind tore at the shelter,
tried to lift and launch it like a sail. Sparks shimmered around her, but she
kept her eyes closed.
Chasing Fire
________________
Firefighter owes life to fire shelter
Although the shelters saved his life twice, Rodriguez said he well knows the uncertain protection they provide.
"You
don't want to rely on your fire shelter to get you through something,"
Rodriguez said. "It is a last resort. It's when all else has failed."
How
well such shelters work depends on factors such as the terrain where
they're used and how long the fires burn on top of them, Rodriguez said.
His fallen colleagues were never able to reach an appropriate surface
where they could deploy their shelters.
"They're designed to
deflect radiant heat," Rodriguez said. "You do absorb some on the
inside. But it all depends on where you're at, where you deploy them.
You have to wait it out."
Getting through the fire also depends on staying calm as the heat and smoke rage outside, he said.
________________
Dizzy, she realized, sick. Too much heat.
Can’t pass out. Won’t pass out. As she regulated her breathing again, she
realized something else.
Quiet.
She
heard the fire, but the distant snarl and song. The ground held steady under
her body, and the jet-plane thunder had passed.
She
was alive. Still alive.
She
reached out, laid a hand on her shelter. Still hot to the touch, she thought.
But she could wait. She could be patient.
And if
she lived, he’d damn well better live, too.
Chasing Fire