alarm from the chainsaw crew coupled with Matt’s shouts filled my ears. Oh my God, the tree was toppling slowly, but toppling. A long, loud, splitting crack. The trunk had split midway, not a clean break like the first tree.
I focused only on Steven, who was trying to scramble up. He had landed like a turtle with the gear he carried in his backpack making it difficult for him to quickly roll over and scramble away. I raced to his side, grabbed his arm, and yanked him around so that he could get to his knees. I pulled him upright, and then we both began to run. The second tree was coming down fast, breaking branches of other trees as it came down. It crashed to the ground with a gentle plop , softer than I had thought it would, sending bursts of embers upward.
It’d been close. I felt the burst of heat as the flames passed. We had barely gotten away from it in time. I quickly glanced over my shoulder, realized that Matt wasn’t right behind me. My heart raced in sudden panic. Where was he?
Then I saw him. Standing near where the top of the second tree had toppled. He stood with his legs wide, his arms out to his sides, his head down. His hard hat had fallen off. Then I saw the blood running down his forehead. He appeared stunned. One of the tree branches must have caught him as it fell. But why wasn’t he moving?
“Matt!”
What was he doing? Why was he standing like that? A first, it didn’t dawn on me. Then I saw them—small flames licking up the back of his pants. Several glowing embers had landed on his backpack and now slowly ate away at it, causing blackened holes that grew larger, their edges rimmed with glowing red. Oh God.
I didn’t think he realized what had happened. The blow to his head must’ve left him stunned, confused. I didn’t think that the flames had yet eaten through his camouflage pants or burned his skin.
“Matt!”
I raced toward him, trying to stifle the screams that threatened to erupt from my throat. I ran as fast and hard as I could, but the soil and shale was loose beneath my feet. I slipped and slid; once fell to my knees. I scrambled upward. Even if Matt realized he was on fire, he knew better than to run. He would drop and roll. But he wasn’t. Blood streamed down his face.
“Matt!”
He finally looked at me and I realized he didn’t know what was happening. I was running full speed toward him. Without slowing down, I spread my arms and tackled him like a football player. We both went down to the ground. I wrapped my arms around him as my momentum carried us down the slope. I heard him grunt, and then his arms wrapped tightly around me. Clasping each other, we continued to roll, crash, and bounce over dirt and small brush. I could only pray that the flames had been extinguished.
I winced and cried out as stones dug into me as I rolled. Despite the protection of the backpack, I felt my elbow crash into a stone, and then my thigh. We came to an abrupt halt as we crashed into the base of the tree down slope. Thankfully, my backpack cushioned the brunt of the fall. We had landed under a huge spruce, the branches low and draping to the ground around us. We were both breathing heavily. Neither one of us moved for several moments. My heart thundered in my chest.
“Matt,” I finally croaked, my throat caked with dirt, smoke, and ash. “Matt!”
He didn’t respond. Pressed between his weight and the back of the tree, I couldn’t move. Was he unconscious? I released my arms from around his back, placed them on his shoulders, and pushed. Scrambling quickly to my knees, I straddled his hips. He was no longer on fire, but his eyes were closed. My heart pounding with panic, fighting back an increasing sense of terror, I placed my fingers on his throat, seeking a pulse. There! I nearly cried with relief.
“Matt!”
I scrambled off him and then pulled with all my might to turn him half over. Thank God, the flames had been extinguished before they could do more than consume