His tether snapped on the way down.

Chase clawed for it, animal panic making him grasp for the rope even as it snaked ineffectually through the air behind him. The Black Hawk shrank overhead and spun away from him as gravity dragged him down in a gut-churning rush. Branches snagged his limbs, puncturing his clothes and more than a few tender spots, but he had the presence of mind to thank God as the tree stabbed and tore and slowed him on his inevitable date with the ground.

He landed hard. Precious air exploded from his lungs, and he gasped to get it back as he rolled over. Oppressive heat slammed into him, making his fight to regain his breath nearly impossible, but he persevered until he had enough in his proverbial tank to drag himself to his feet. His literal tank was back on the chopper, along with all his other gear.

Fuck.

He’d had a few things on him, at least, when he fell. Chase scrambled to find his mask and pressed it to his face. It was better than nothing.

All around him, the wildfire raged. Tall columns of flame that had once been living trees thrust themselves nightmarishly toward the blackened sky; further off, a tree toppled and exploded like a bomb. Elsewhere, he heard the roar of something that sounded like an engine, barely distinguishable above the unearthly howl of the fire.

"Sookie!"

She had brought the Black Hawk down in a nearby clearing. It was impossible, but she had done it. Chase stumbled forward, holding his mask to his face with one hand and using the other to shield himself from the shower of embers scattered by the Hawk's rotating blades.

Damn it. She was too close to the fire. Chase tried to wave her back up into the air, but Sookie was waving at him, gesturing vigorously for him to get to her. When Chase began to pump his arm forward, so hard it nearly dislocated, she finally got the message and turned to look. When she saw the fire nearly upon her, she dropped her hands to wrestle with her belt.

She wasn't going to make it. Chase could see the scene unfold before him before the pieces even fell into place. Something was wrong. The belt was tangled on something, or stuck, and there was nothing within Sookie's reach inside the cockpit to help her free herself. He raced toward her, ragged breaths fogging the inside of his mask, obscuring his vision as much as the stinging sweat that dripped into his eyes—

A loud groan made him wheel. A flaming tree careened between him and the chopper, only narrowly missing him on the way down. It hit the ground in a shower of sparks, flamed high, and groaned louder. Oh, God. The damn thing sounded seconds away from exploding.

He didn't think. He just acted. He dashed toward the tree, planted at the last second, and lunged over it. Flames licked and scorched along the insides of his pants. By the time he landed, he was on fire, legs and right arm flaming. He bolted for an oozing patch of foam and threw himself down onto it, rolling to put himself out. His ears rang.

Somewhere nearby, Sookie screamed.

Chase picked himself up and sprinted for the Black Hawk. He had his knife out before he would even allow his hand to register the pain. He hauled himself up beside Sookie and sliced her free from her restraints. She grabbed onto him as he pulled them both to what he hoped was safety.

He could smell leaking fuel.

"MOVE!" Chase screamed, loud enough to shred his vocal chords. He was terrified that it was already too little, too late, but Sookie heeded him, sprinting as fast as she could away from the Hawk, and he followed. In the reflection off his mask, he watched the Hawk recede into the distance.

He saw the moment the fuel tank caught fire. He tackled Sookie to the ground.

The deafening explosion filled the air above them. Shrapnel flew through the sky, decapitating trees and embedding trunks. Chase pulled Sookie closer, praying that any debris that flew their way would end its nightmarish trajectory with him. He would shield her, no matter the cost.

After a long, tense moment of waiting, he drew a shuddering breath. He pulled her to her feet, removed the mask from his face, and pressed it to hers. Sookie's wide, terrified eyes told him exactly what she was thinking, but Chase couldn't bring himself to listen now. She wanted him to keep the mask, but he wanted her to live. A quick glance down, and he saw blood gushing down her leg from a jagged tear in her flight suit. He held his arm out to her, and she hugged him around the shoulders.

She hopped as he pulled her, stumbling, away from the spreading fire. "The trench!" Chase shouted hoarsely. Even though her face hovered right beside his own, he couldn't be sure she heard him. "It should be just up ahead! If we can get to it—"

Sookie's leg buckled, and Chase knew that was the end of it. She went down hard, and he followed her down. Before she could land in a heap, his arms encircled her, and he lifted her against his chest. He rose and kept running for the both of them.

The ground dropped off sharply ahead of him. Chase slowed as he neared the lip of the trench, then kept going, half-falling down the hill in a cascade of dirt, Sookie still in his arms. He could hear her breathing raggedly inside the mask—or was that his own gasping lungs drawing in the polluted air? Soon enough, they were at the bottom of the trench, and he started the long climb up. Sookie clutched him, burying her head in his neck. It was the last shred of motivation Chase needed to get them up the hill.

He kept running long after they hit flat, solid earth again. He ran for as long as he could. Up ahead, he thought he distinguished human figures, a squad fighting the fire on a different front. He tried to shout to gain their attention, but found he had no voice left.

Sookie raised an arm off his neck to wave feebly, and he saw one of them turn.

And then he couldn't go any further. Chase dropped to his knees, carrying Sookie down with him. She clutched him, and God, after running through Hell on earth—her arms felt like Heaven. He wanted to tell her.

He wanted to tell her so many things he had left unsaid up there in the sky—and here on the ground—only he couldn't think. His tongue was a lead weight between his teeth, and his chest felt too tight to draw in air. He begged her with his eyes to understand, and Sookie cried out.

She pulled the mask from her face and tried to press it to his, but it was too late.

Chase's eyes closed, and he fell forward. He hoped to be unconscious before he hit the ground, but a pair of slender arms caught him, and he gave himself over to them and their unanticipated strength. They weren't moving anymore. Still, it felt good to be cradled.

It felt good to be with the woman he loved.

Darkness crept around his vision. Over Sookie's shoulder, he thought he could discern the figures of several firefighters running toward them, carrying oxygen tanks—but then he was sinking—down—down. With the last of his mental strength, he clawed to find his way back out of the darkness—and failed. At least he wasn't alone as he slipped away.

Sookie was there.