When We Are Enough (Valiant Hearts #1)

2. Patrick

Chapter 2

Patrick

T he morning sun barely breaks through the dense canopy overhead, illuminating the dense swath of the Pines in muted tones. Sometimes it feels like a different planet, a world away from the marina, the endless ocean, and the heaving summer crowds.

If I had any free time, I’d spend it hiking here. Alone . Working up a sweat and pushing my body until all the other thoughts and responsibilities go away and it’s just me and the calm of the forest.

The crew are readying the equipment we need for the controlled burn. They’re a mixed bag, young fellas and seasoned firefighters, and familiar thoughts shoot through me as the equipment gets checked one last time. The burn must be precise: there’s little room for error. People are relying on me.

“Alright, team.” My voice carries clearly over the murmur of voices. “We’ve got a long day ahead. Remember, stick to the plan, keep your radios close, and watch each other’s backs out there. We’ve got this.”

I meet the eyes of each team member, giving a nod of reassurance to the newer faces and a clap on the shoulder to the veterans as we gather around the map laid out on the hood of the lead truck. I point to the areas slated for burning, marked in vivid red on the map.

“We’ll start at the north end and work our way downwind. Keep the fire lines tight and the pace steady. We need to burn off the underbrush without harming the mature trees or risking a jump.”

The crew nods, clearly understanding their roles. We’ve done this before, many times, and a few moments later, we disperse to our positions, the sound of voices and crackling radios filling the air as everyone prepares. My helmet goes on and the scent of pine is soon masked by smoke as the first flames are carefully lit.

Under my watchful eye, the fire creeps along the forest floor, consuming the dry brush in a controlled fury. I walk the line, keeping close to the action, always alert, my radio crackling with updates.

The day’s work is intense but under control, until a sudden, unexpected change in the wind sweeps through the Pines. I know as soon as the wind hits my face that it’s going to be bad news for us, and within seconds, the tame fire roars with strength, pushing beyond our carefully planned boundaries.

“Brace yourselves!” Shouting into the radio, my voice battling the wind and crackling flames. “Wind shift! I need all units to check in and regroup at sector three. We need to reinforce the breaks!”

The flames leap higher, driven by the sudden gusts, the heat intense against my gear as I coordinate the crew’s movements. A living thing, the fire is hungry and unrelenting, the wind its perfect ally. We scramble to widen the fire breaks while another crew joins us with the hose.

The radio goes to my mouth. “Tim, Jonboy, double back! We need more clearance on the western edge!”

Two figures dart through the haze, moving quickly to obey, while fiery embers swirl through the air and the sky darkens with smoke.

“Keep the lines tight, everyone! Watch for jumpers!”

The fire licks at the limits of our containment. We’re on the very edge of my comfort zone, the hoses working overtime to douse the trees on the other side of the fire so we can keep control.

One by one, I run methodically through the strategies we’ve drilled countless times. As we fight to keep the flames under control, the weight of responsibility presses down on me. It’s like a heavy load that just gets heavier with each step you take.

Every call I make could mean the difference between a successful burn or letting things spiral out of control. The safety of my guys, the communities bordering the land—it’s all riding on my shoulders. This kind of pressure is part of the job, but man, it never gets any easier. This is my crew, my controlled burn. Failure is not an option.

Then my worst nightmare. Over the roar of the flames, a cry for help. One of the crew, a young recruit, is trapped on the other side of a wall of fire. Without thinking twice, I slam my visor down and rush in. Everything is chaos—smoke obscures my vision, wind and heat buffeting me, but I push through, calling out for the trapped firefighter.

A montage of imagined images hits me, as it does every time I come face to face with the flames. I’ve pictured Danny’s last moments enough times, re-lived them in my nightmares, that they merge with my reality.

His fear is my fear, his pain is my pain. The searing heat, the sweat dripping down my face, the disorienting smoke that turns the world upside down.

Then the young guy is in front of me, collapsed on the ground from smoke inhalation and helpless against the encroaching flames, the sight snapping me back to reality. I hoist him over my shoulder and practically drag him free of the fire’s grasp.

We burst from the smoke and heat just as the other crew members arrive with the hose. The wind continues its relentless assault, fanning the flames ever higher, the situation teetering on the brink of chaos but still just under control. It’s impossible not to be humbled when standing at the feet of a forest fire, even one we lit ourselves.

“Medic!” I yell over the crackle and hiss of the flames, and within seconds, my good friend Antonio appears, a calm presence used to dealing with medical emergencies.

I set the guy down directly on the ground, and Antonio looks him over, giving him oxygen and checking for burns, before giving me a thumbs up.

“Are you sure?” I shout.

“The kid’s going to be fine. You can get back to it. I’ve got this.”

The vise around my heart loosens and the rest of us double our efforts. Hours seem to pass in minutes, the crew working like a single organism to keep the burn under control despite the conditions, until the wind begins to lose its strength. The flames grow less aggressive, and bit by bit, we divert the fire back to the area designated for burning.

By the time we’re finished with the burn, the fire is reduced to a series of smoldering patches. It’s like the unexpected change in the wind never happened, but we’re all exhausted, our faces streaked with ash, our bodies drenched in sweat and grime.

I take a moment to look around, taking stock of my crew. They’re smiling, patting each other on the back. Antonio is helping the young firefighter to his feet—the guy is shaken, but alive and well. Seeing him on his feet is just what I need, and relief floods through me, washing away some of the bone-deep fatigue.

“We were taken by surprise, but not for long.” My voice is hoarse as I address the crew. “Great work, everyone. Let’s break for lunch and we’ve got one more burn before we head home.”

Nods and tired smiles meet my words. We’re a team, and today, more than ever, I’m reminded of the strength that comes from that unity. We head back to the trucks for a break, and as we load up the gear, I take one last look at the charred landscape behind us. The first burn didn’t go exactly as planned, but we did what we needed to do.