Wildfire

 

David McGillveray

 

 

 

There was a haze above the trees, almost thin enough to be imaginary. Far in the distance the last of the day's light glinted on the wings of a swarm of crop dusters as they dropped water on the wildfires.

"I don't really think we should stay," said Angela, frowning as she looked across the forested slopes of the Sierra Nevada. They were standing on the long porch at the rear of the mountain cabin that Kevin had persuaded his boss to lend him for the weekend, in the Sequoia National Forest a couple of hours north of Bakersfield. Angela remembered loving the mountain lakes and meadows of wildflowers when her folks had brought her here as a kid. Normally the spectacular view of the trees and the mountains, the smell of pinion pine, juniper and sage would have made her want to stay forever, even with Kevin. But despite recent evidence to the contrary, she was not one for taking chances. She was sure she could detect the faint smell of burning in the air.

"The news hasn't given the call for an evacuation yet," argued Kevin, "and the fire control guys are doing a good job. It's rare that they can't handle a few little wildfires. It'll probably burn itself out anyway." He blew his cheeks out. "There's no need to panic, you know."

"I'm not panicking, Kevin. I just think it's best to be careful. Maybe we should go back to the city." She eyed the two cars parked up at the side of the cabin. Her yellow VW Beetle sat next to Kevin's surrogate penis, a classic 1975 Jaguar, imported at insane expense from Europe.

"Are you crazy? It's taken us months to arrange this weekend together. Have you any idea how much goodwill I used up with Dan to make him give me the keys to this place?" Kevin moved closer to her and lowered his voice to a purr. "We can take a long Jacuzzi and then go for a drive in the mountains tomorrow, away from the fires," he said. "Come on, we can stay another night. We owe it to ourselves." He pulled at the cord of the silk kimono she had bought for the occasion and ran a thumb up the seam.

Angela made a half-hearted defence and then giggled despite herself. "Oh, alright then." She grabbed his hand, holding it inside the kimono for a moment and then skipped back inside, tossing her auburn hair girlishly as she went. Golden dragons danced on her back.

 

* * *

Starlight bled into the bedroom from the back porch, chasing shadows into corners and illuminating the scuffed sheets on the bed. Angela could not sleep. She told herself it was still anxiety about the fires in the forest.

She eased herself up slowly so as not to wake Kevin and sat on the side of the bed. He lay on his back, head turned away from her: a thick tussle of dark hair grown slightly too long, frown lines on his forehead. Sleep had stolen the definition from his face so that his chin merged into his neck and his mouth hung open. His lips were slack and damp. Angela watched him sleep awhile. Kevin was not the most generous of lovers, nor was he often second past the post when it came to the race between the sheets. He also tended to fall asleep pretty quickly, afterwards. But at least he was enthusiastic. He wanted her. It had been a long time since she had inspired enthusiasm in a man and for now, in this place, it was enough.

She picked her kimono from where it had been abandoned on the floor and padded towards the veranda, feet sinking into the thick carpet. Hell, this place was more than just any little old mountain cabin – it was bigger than her parents place back east, and a whole lot more expensively furnished. Kevin had done well to bring her here, Angela told herself. She slid the French windows open carefully and stepped outside. Immediately, she could smell the smoke in the air, much more distinct now. She leaned her arms on the wooden balustrade and stared into the night. The sky was clear of cloud and dotted with stars. The tree line was a dark presence no more than thirty yards away, the grassy space between bathed in a placid light.

As she looked out, a glow materialised in the darkness to her right, and then another. Then one to her left, fast on the others' heals. Half a dozen more jumped into existence inside the forest. Alarmed, Angela peered into the gloom, struggling to see how far away the flames were and where they were coming from. There was little wind tonight; nothing to carry sparks across distances. The flames burned with an intense white-orange light that engraved itself on her retinas and seemed to move among the trees like men carrying torches. Maybe they were fire fighters coming to evacuate the area.

"Hello," she called and then pressed her hand over her mouth, startled at the loudness of her own voice.

Suddenly a young mule deer burst from within the trees, bucking and kicking out with its hind legs. The animal raced across the open ground at the back of the cabin, shaking its head and trying to dislodge the thing on its back with its stubby antlers.

Flames clung about its shoulders like a fiery cape, seeming to dig into the buck's coarse coat with grasping tendrils of fire. The animal, clearly distressed and frantic with pain, stopped running and began to rear up and jump on the spot, shaking its head and snorting. Its white belly flashed in the starlight. Still the flames burned on its back, burning with the same white-hot intensity she had seen out in the forest. There were roaring sounds as the flames were whipped through the air and . . . and laughter. No! Angela listened more closely and there it came again -- a nasty, high-pitched screech of delight like the devil on helium.

Angela stood frozen, watching the macabre dance in the yard in fear and bewilderment. The shadows cast by the mocking flames were reflected on her pale face. As the buck span and kicked, she noticed a more distinct form defined impossibly inside the fire. A skinny, quasi-human shape the brightness of a star's guts momentarily turned red, red eyes upon her. The horrible high laughter sounded again, tongues of flame licking about a savage mouth.

The buck's front legs buckled and it lurched to the ground and, whether through design or exhaustion, fell over on its side. The fire on its back sprung away like a living thing to avoid being trapped beneath the animal's body and rolled back towards the trees, crackling and spitting in exhilaration. Angela recoiled from the smell of cooking meat as the deer struggled to get to its feet and limped painfully towards the trees.

She turned away, sickened, and fled back inside the cabin, screaming Kevin's name. She moaned to herself, afraid she was losing her mind, that she was seeing things. It had to be all that guilt.

"Kevin!" she said in a whisper that was almost a shout. He lay unmoved where she had left him. "Kevin, wake up." She shook his shoulder roughly.

He groaned and turned his head towards her without opening his eyes. A sly smile crossed his face. "There's just no stopping you, is there, baby?" he mumbled. "You just can't help yourself."

"Not that, you idiot. Wake up. The fires are really close. We've got to get out of here."

Kevin finally opened his eyes and blinked at her. "Are you sure? You're not just being paranoid again?"

"No," she shouted. "There's something weird going on outside. Get up will you, for Christ's sake." She dragged the duvet off him and he reluctantly got up. She pulled him towards the windows, noticing despite herself how skinny his legs looked poking out from the roomy boxers he wore in bed.

They put their noses to the glass. There were definitely flames among the trees, but they were not the brilliant white ones that had injured the deer. These fires burned along several paths, and they all led towards the cabin.

"Shit, you were right," said Kevin. "Let's get our stuff. I'll phone Dan from the road and tell him to make an insurance claim." He chuckled but before he could look away, perhaps eight or nine blazing shapes chased each other across the yard, each of them no more than waist high. The second figure was throwing gobbets of flame at the one in the lead. As they watched, the attacker caught up with its target and they tumbled across the ground in a flurry of embers. The others proceeded to form a semicircle around the other two, capering and dancing. The sound of their laughter came through the partially open window.

"What the hell are they, Kevin?" Angela squeaked from behind her hands. Two more had joined the fight and were rolling about in a white-hot ball. Leaves and twigs on the ground burst into flames as their bodies touched them.

"I have no fucking idea," Kevin said, his brow furrowed in disbelief. "Forest sprites or something, bloody fire goblins. God knows, but let's not stay around to find out." But he couldn't seem to draw himself away from the bizarre scene outside.

Angela ran back to the bed, jumped into a pair of jeans and pulled on a T-shirt. She grabbed her car keys off the bedside table and began throwing the few things she had already taken from her weekend bag back inside it. Her head jerked at a shout from Kevin.

"The little bastards!"

"Kevin, what are you doing?"

Kevin had stepped out onto the porch and was yelling into the night. "Get away from my fucking car! That's private property."

Angela dragged him back inside but he shook her off angrily. He stomped off through the bedroom and out the door, still wearing only his boxers.

Outside, the gang of sprites were jumping up and down on the roof and bonnet of Kevin's Jaguar. The metal was gradually warping with the tremendous heat that was coming from their bodies and the paint was peeling away. One of them jumped down and pushed experimentally at one of the tyres. After a moment, the tyre burst, sending the creature tumbling backwards in surprise. It jumped up and down, cackling dementedly and ran to the back tyre where it repeated the process. The tyre exploded and the car lurched. A few of the other sprites fell off the roof and began spitting at each other.

"I'll teach them," vowed Kevin, reappearing in the bedroom. He was carrying a breeched shotgun and fumbling with a box of shells. He elbowed past Angela as if she was a stranger in a bar, eyes wet and fixed only on his vandalised car.

"Don't antagonise them," Angela yelled after him, but he was already stamping down the wooden steps and into the yard. He succeeded in getting two shells into the barrels and closed up the gun. When he was no more than twenty yards from the Jaguar he fired, but he had obviously been aiming too high, probably from fear of damaging the car even further, because the shot shredded the leaves of the trees beyond.

The sprites dancing around the car scattered, flames roaring as they scampered away with incredible speed. Most made for the forest but stopped short of the tree line, turning to dance and spit flame back at Kevin. Others disappeared round the side of the cabin while one remained to glare belligerently back down the barrels of the shotgun. Angela could see its deep red eyes flaring, shining with a malevolent intensity one-part petulant child and five parts purest hatred. Its whole body seemed to burn even brighter as it swaggered along the roof of the car and then thrust its crotch back and forth in Kevin's direction. Its fellows cackled from the sidelines.

Kevin, who had not brought the gun down from his shoulder after the first shot, cried in fury and anguish over his beloved vehicle. He fired again, and this time he hit his target. The creature simply disappeared in an explosion of sparks that showered the car and gently drifted towards the ground. The sprites by the trees jumped up and down in agitation and jabbered angrily. Flames were beginning to lick at the trunks and lower branches of the trees behind them, and the fires started earlier in the forest were burning more strongly.

Kevin shouted in jubilation and, remembering Angela at last, looked over his shoulder at her for approval. "That's taught the little fuckers," he shouted, waving the gun around carelessly. The smile on his face abruptly disappeared as a flaming meteor roared from somewhere above where Angela stood on the porch to impact directly on Kevin's head and shoulders. He stood momentarily like a lighthouse before collapsing backwards. The gun dropped to the ground as he clawed spastically at the fire clinging to his face. The other sprites converged on the place where he had fallen, attaching themselves to legs and arms, all the while cackling their horrible, mocking chorus.

Angela stood caught by horror and indecision. She could hear the crackling of fire on the roof. With a tiny cry, she returned indoors and tugged the fire extinguisher from its place by the doorway of the bedroom.

As she approached the burning pyre, she saw that Kevin had ceased to move. He wasn't able to scream. The sprites wriggled contentedly together in their own flames, glowing white bodies indistinct in the superheated air.

With a powerful mushrooming rage, Angela fought through the wall of heat, feeling the skin on her face blister and her hair begin to smoke. She screwed her eyes tightly shut and released the fire extinguisher blind. Immediately she was rewarded with a satisfying cacophony of agonised hissing and spitting. The heat receded enough to open her eyes and she saw that once again the gang of sprites had scattered. She tried not to look at what they had left blackened and smouldering on the ground.

The fire sprites had not retreated far. They heckled her from a few yards away while the cabin went up in smoke behind her. In turn, as if choreographed, they darted forward with eyes blazing and tongues hissing until she fended them off with a blast from the extinguisher. It was already lighter in her hands. Looking around desperately, she saw that her only chance was to get to her car. She began to edge past the wreckage of Kevin's Jaguar but inexorably her tormentors boxed her in. They were too quick, too clever. They continued to make darting runs, skipping just out of reach of the squirts of fire retardant. Angela looked at their twisted smiles and knew they were playing with her.

"Get away from me," she sobbed, backing away and brandishing the nearly empty extinguisher. They cackled and moved closer. Their heat pushed at her like a giant hand. There was a monstrous roaring in her ears, as of a furnace door being opened. Crashing sounds came from the forest as trees were shoved aside. She watched in horror as a pillar of flame moved through the trees towards the cabin, starting smaller fires in its wake.

Angela dropped the empty extinguisher at her feet in defeat, sweat and black dust covering her face. The sprites before her capered their triumph and cackled their grating helium laughter until the burning pillar resolved itself on the edge of the trees. It bellowed. The sound must have come from hell itself.

The thing was huge, at least the height of the cabin. Yellow and orange flames reached high into the air while the burning outline of the glaring beast gestured angrily at the core. Humanoid and massively limbed, it crossed the yard in three steps. Slitted eyes the colour of Satan's tongue stared at the cowering sprites at its feet and at the desperate scorched figure of Angela dumbly returning its gaze. A cruel hole of a mouth showed teeth of white flame and a throat bright as fresh blood. It bellowed again, a sound with almost physical power.

The smaller sprites whimpered and chittered and ran behind their mother's flaming skirts.

"Thankyou," Angela whispered to herself. "Thankyou."

But the giant did not care. It had only come for its naughty children, to take them back to their real work. The children reluctantly jumped up at their parent's heals and were subsumed into the greater whole, disappearing into the white-hot womb which had bore them. It turned and strode back into the forest in the direction of the main wildfires miles distant. Subsidiary fires ignited with each massive step.

Angela sagged, exhausted, stunned, terrified. Kevin! Kevin was gone. She could not look again at the scorched remnants on the ground. She had to go. She had to go now. They might come back. A strangled sob escaped from her lips at the thought of it. She fumbled for her keys and lurched towards her car, slumping into the seat.

She would go back to the city. As far as anyone knew she was at a mutual funds conference in Denver. She would go back and not tell anyone. That would be best. She had not been here with Kevin, had not been here at all. No one knew. No one would ever know. Angela turned the car round and headed back towards home, back to her husband.

 

 

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"Wildfire" Copyright © 2007 David McGillveray. All rights reserved.
Published by permission of the author.

 

This page last updated 10-31-07.

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