AUTHOR UPDATE
Pre-launch for a book is a crazy busy time. ALASKA INFERNO will be out on the last day of May, so working with my team to make sure everything falls into place. Just to whet your appetite, here's an excerpt:
Liz positioned her squad one mile outside Riverview Estates, to connect their fuel break to the road leading into it. Flames marched closer to the Afi Squad’s position on the fireline.
Liz’s radio squawked with Tara’s voice. “Afi Squad, you copy?”
She keyed her radio. “Copy.”
“Flames are booking. This thing gobbled a mile in fifteen minutes. Max dropped mud on the left flank and he’s circling around to drop a load along our fire break. Make sure your squad gets clear,” instructed Tara.
The DC-10 air tanker thundered into view. “Here comes Jaws. All clear.” Liz shoved her radio in its waist holster, stuck two fingers in her mouth, and whistled. She made a wide gesture with her arm to the rest of her squad. “Clear the line for Max’s mud drop.”
Everyone gathered their gear and retreated toward the Riverview Estates.
Max lined up his mighty air tanker to spray the red-orange quilt over the land as if laying down a carpet for royalty.
When the DC-10 approached, the engine vibrated Liz’s insides. She recalled how she and Jon had hunkered on that steep mountainside last year when Max dropped a load to buy time for them to escape.
She and Jon hadn’t talked about that day. Unsaid words still yawned between them.
Liz watched the metal gates squeak open to release the Phos-Chek fire retardant on the hottest part of the fire. A plane letting loose fire retardant was a thing of beauty. Max excelled at his dangerous job.
No sooner had the scarlet gel cascaded to the landscape when a heavy wind gust caused a forty-foot flame tower to rise on their left, charging toward the fuel break.
Tupa squinted. “She’s running on the left flank.”
Flames hitting combustible, dry fuel exacerbated by escalating winds made Liz’s stomach turn. Flammable beetle-kill crackled and popped, while ladder fuels seduced the fire to the treetops. Liz’s worst fears confirmed as the flames crowned from one tall spruce to the next. An unmistakable freight train sound told her the fire gorged on the brittle, dead undergrowth.
The burn had grown too fast to position firefighters on its perimeter. This was the definitive red flag telling her to get her squad out of harm’s way ASAP.
Flame lengths grew exponentially and the longer she stared at the fire, the more it felt like a grotesque living beast, leering at her with gnarly arms, snaking out to drag her in. She shook off her hypnotic fascination.
Rego piped up. “She’s cooking up. Time to Foxtrot Oscar, folks.”
“Yep. Time to retreat.” Liz gripped her Pulaski and hurried her squad away from the red monster charging toward their fuel break.
“We could have contained it if not for the doggone wind,” grumbled Rego as he hiked alongside her.
“That’s always the case, right?” Liz led everyone back to the anchor point where their fuel break joined the wide, dirt road. A state fire truck parked near an intersection.
Liz keyed her radio. “Aurora Crew, do you copy?”
Tara responded. “Go ahead.”
“Tell Max to make another drop. I’m betting this’ll jump our line with these winds.”
“I’m betting the same. We’ll meet you at the designated safety zone at the road intersection.”
“We’re already here with another state crew. Afi Squad clear.”
Liz’s radio woke up. “Aurora, this is Max. Heard your request. Clear for incoming?”
Tara replied. “Copy that. We’re clear.”
The air tanker thundered over the leading edge of the fire now blowing through their fuel break. Max aimed his load expertly and the long, red cloud of retardant descended to the ground.
The state fire truck’s radio erupted. “Get helo sling loads in here, get water on these rooftops,” barked a voice. More voices dog piled onto the transmission. The assigned radio frequency became so overloaded with traffic, people broke in on each other. A never-ending problem on the big fires.
Ryan’s voice instructed helicopters lifting off from Rockfish. He specified location coordinates to sling loads of water to cool hot spots. Lakes and ponds dotted the Kenai Peninsula, but unfortunately the water bodies didn’t slow fire. Wind-driven flames simply carved around them and marched on, as long as dried vegetation fed them.
Suddenly, shit got real...
Read the rest when Alaska Inferno releases at the end of this month!
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