I knew I was screaming but couldn’t hear. I felt his hands on me, but I couldn’t see. The face of the fire had been blinding… malevolent.

“Get down!” he cried, pushing me to the floorboards, my head to his lap. I felt his thigh tighten and a fast second later, we were racing across the valley. I gripped his waist and held on. He covered me with his fireproof jacket, the heat was suffocating… I was in total darkness. He held me with one powerful arm as we crashed around the cab.

“The fucking winds are trying to spin into a vortex,” he yelled over the deafening noise. He pulled the jacket back and looked down at me without letting up on the speed. The truck jolted and crashed over the road, but he only pushed it faster. “Baby… talk to me… Tell me you’re all right…”

“I… I’m… okay…” I stumbled over the words, holding up a hand to shield my eyes, trying to adjust to the light. “What’s is it… what’s happening…? The fire was a long way off.” I tried to sit up, but he held me where I was. He shot a look in the rearview mirror and stomped the gas again, his face was tight, his jaw squared. I looked up from his lap and watched the muscles working in his neck.

“Might be a goddamn firestorm, Em,” he said through his teeth, “They can blow up out of nowhere… that could just be the edge of it.” He shot a look at me and tried to smile, but I could see the strain in his face, the danger in his eyes. “They move and grow like a tornado of flame. You don’t fight them,” he said. “You can’t fight them.

“You outrun them.”

“Head back toward the rim,” he shouted into the radio. “It’s already ninety percent burned out, so there won’t be as much fuel. It’ll give the crew a fighting chance. Every cabin on the north end’s gone by now. Just focus on getting the men out of danger.”

He put the radio down and tightened his grip on me. The fire was miles behind us now, but burning high and bright. He raked his hand through his hair and closed his eyes, leaning his head back on the seat. He stomped the gas. We were still moving fast.

“How many?” I asked softly.

“Two injured,” he replied. “I need to get you out, Em. Right now. And then I’m going back in for my men.”

“No,” I shot back, gripping his arm. “Do you honestly think I’m going to let you go back into that alone?” I was angry now… and stubborn. “I know the bond you have with those men, and I know that they’re not just your crew, they’re your family. But I’m your family too. And wherever you go, I’m going with you.”

“This isn’t just about us,” he said. “You have no idea what it’s like out there, Ember. There’s no way I’m letting you and the baby take that kind of risk.” He brought my hand to his mouth and kissed my fingers, my palm. Then he carried it to my belly and covered it with his own. “You can’t keep me safe by coming with me,” he said, “but you can keep him safe, by letting me protect you both while I still can.”

I curled into his side, holding him close, knowing he was right. The tire caught a rock and we jolted. “Then I need you to tell me what it’s like, Jason,” I said. “You say I don’t know, but I saw. I saw what that fire looks like, and I felt something I don’t know how to explain. I have a right to know. Whatever I imagine will be worse than the truth.” I felt his fingers tighten on mine.

“Ember…”

“No, Jason,” I cut him off. “You’re trying to protect me by not telling me everything. You want me to trust you, and you tell me that everything’ll be fine. But I need you to tell me the whole truth, especially if there’s a chance… that you might not come back.” I stopped, choking on my own fear. “I never knew what Daddy’s last moments were like, and it only made losing him even worse. I never got to tell him how much he meant to me and how much I loved him. If I can’t go with you, I have to know what it is we’re facing.”

“Dammit, Em… I am not saying my goodbyes. We’ve got a wedding planned and a baby on the way…”

“I need you to stop protecting me and tell me. You called it a firestorm, Jason. I want to know.”

He pulled up in front of the cabin and killed the engine. We sat in silence long enough to know that Reilly wasn’t waiting for us to come to home. And that I wasn’t giving in.

“They form when and where they please,” he said, finally. “They’re erratic, violent… fires so intense they can form their own wind systems and maintain themselves. Columns of spinning flame can reach hundreds of feet high, and they can radiate heat so intense that trees, even buildings at a distance can combust. It’s conflagration,” he said, holding my hands in his. “But they can die out as fast as they flare up. One minute it’s the face of hell itself, and the next it can be all over.” He took my face in his hands, so strong, so steady.

“It’s my job to outwit it,” he said. “And I’m fucking good at what I do. The men who haven’t gotten out will be waiting it out where there’s damned little left to burn. But even so, if it gets too close, the heat alone can be deadly. That’s the truth, Em. All of it. It’s risky, but I might be the only hope those men have left.”

I nodded, willing myself to face the images in my head. I’d been so afraid for so long. And it was that fear, more than anything, that had cost us our relationship and our future the last time. I smiled up at him, terrified, but grateful for the truth. He was trusting me, just like I was trusting him. And nothing, nothing in the world felt stronger than that.

“There’s still a chance we’ll find Reilly on the road to Copperton,” I said. “What the hell are we waiting for?”