The Gathering

THIRTY-FOUR

I YANKED OPEN THE truck door and jumped in. Daniel jammed the key into the ignition and cranked it. Nothing happened.

“No,” he whispered. “No, no, no.”

He turned it again and again, twisting it back and forth, then letting go, slamming his palms against the steering wheel.

I opened my door. “We’ll walk. The fire can’t be that close—”

“No. Just hold on.” He took a deep breath, then tried again, calmer now.

My dad always said that when the wildlife started to flee, it was time to take cover. By that point, you can’t outrun it on foot.

On the second twist, the engine caught, faltered, then roared to life. Daniel nodded, slammed it into drive, hit the gas and …

The tires spun.

“No way. No goddamn way.”

He threw open the door. “Slide over. When I yell, hit the gas.”

He pushed. I accelerated. The tires spun, refusing to take hold. Ash settled on the hood. I hit the gas harder. Finally, the truck jolted from the rut and sped forward. I hit the brakes.

“No!” Daniel yelled. “Keep her rolling.”

I glanced in the mirrors to see him racing along the side of the truck. He grabbed the door and yanked it open. I turned my attention back to the road. Daniel swung in, then slammed the door shut and collapsed in the passenger seat, panting.

“Always wanted to do that, haven’t you?” I said.

He laughed and struggled to catch his breath. Ash frosted his hair and shoulders.

“Just keep going,” he said. “It’s rough, and if you slow down, she’ll get stuck again.”

Rough was right. I hadn’t noticed it as a passenger, but now I felt every jerk, every roll. Another deer raced past us. Then a fox, so panicked it almost ran under the wheels. The animals were heading toward town. That meant the fire was in the other direction. Good.

When we reached the road, I could see a wall of smoke over the distant treetops.

“I see it,” Daniel said, before I could speak. His voice was low, and calm now. “Do you want me to take over?”

I shook my head and hit the gas, driving as fast as I dared on the winding road.

The ash stopped falling. When I looked in the rearview mirror, though, I could still see the smoke.

“How can it be coming in so fast?” I said.

“You know the saying. Spreads like wildfire.”

“Sure, but this seems too fast.”

He shrugged. It didn’t matter. Just get to safety. As I drove, Daniel checked his cell phone.

“Still no service?” I said.

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll be there in—”

A huge shape leaped from the bushes. I hit the brakes as Daniel shouted “Don’t swerve!” I knew better—out here you learned that lesson as soon as you got behind the wheel. Then I realized it was a massive Roosevelt elk, its antlers nearly as wide as the windshield.

“Duck!” I said.

I hit the brakes as hard as I could and steered to the right, away from the elk. The rule “don’t swerve” doesn’t apply with a creature that big. We ducked—another tactic we’d been taught, though elk herds rarely ventured this far east. When an elk hits a car, it’ll crush the roof—and you under it.

A thump as the truck hit the animal, but it was a glancing blow and the elk only stumbled, then—

Crash!

Something hit my door. Then a doe scrambled right over the hood.

“They’re running into the truck!” Daniel shouted. “Drive!”

I hit the gas. Another thud. I looked over to see the huge elk charging. Its antlers hit and the truck rocked, threatening to tip right over. The animal backed up. Its eyes rolled in rage and panic. It charged the door again. The glass smashed. Daniel grabbed me, but I was caught in my seat belt. He fumbled with it as I braced for the next blow.

Calm down, I thought. Please, please, please, calm down.

The elk hit the door but seemed to check itself at the last second. It snorted. Hot air blasted through the window. I could smell the beast, smell its panic. It backed away, head lowering, those huge antlers swinging through the window, one prong brushing my cheek as I ducked.

Just calm down. Please calm down.

“Got it!” Daniel said.

The seat belt flew loose and he grabbed me as the elk charged again.

“Hang on!” Daniel shouted.

I clutched the steering wheel, but at the last second, the elk swerved. Then it stood there, sides heaving, looking faintly confused, as if it had forgotten what it was doing.

Daniel threw open the passenger door, and we tumbled onto the road. The elk snorted again and nudged the truck. It rocked. I scrambled out of the way, tugging Daniel after me.

“Hey!” someone shouted.

I caught the distant pounding of footsteps.

“Hey! Yeah, you! Get out of here!”

I knew that voice. Knew it, but couldn’t believe I was hearing it.

I turned to see Rafe running toward the elk, waving his arms. The rest of the herd stood on the side of the road, milling about in confusion, waiting for their leader.

“Go on!” Rafe shouted. “Move it!”

The elk snorted. Then, with a dismissive flip of its tail, it bounded across the road and into the forest. The herd followed.

I tried to stand, but Daniel made me sit on the ground as he checked me out. He squeezed my shoulder and I winced.

“Just bruised,” I said. “I can walk.”

Rafe jogged over to us. “She was driving? Is she okay?”

“Yes, she is,” I said, getting to my feet. I looked behind him. “Where’s Annie?”

“She—” Rafe stopped and looked at Daniel.

“Took off?” I said. “Like she does sometimes?”

He nodded. “We set out this morning, but we didn’t get far before she …”

“Ran away,” I finished.

A glance at Daniel, then he went on. “Right. I sat down to wait. She comes back when she’s done, and there’s nothing else I can do until then. This time, though, she was gone longer than usual. I started getting worried, so I left our packs and headed down the path. That’s when I smelled the smoke. I’ve been looking for her. I heard the crashing, came out to the road, and saw you guys.”

Daniel anxiously eyed the smoky horizon as Rafe explained. He tried to start the truck, but it was too badly damaged.

“We have to go,” he said. “That fire’s coming fast.”

Rafe shook his head. “Go on. I need to find her. She’s probably just back at the cabin—”

“She’s not,” I said. “We just left there.”

He rocked on the balls of his feet and I could tell he’d barely heard me.

I grabbed his arm. “Rafe.”

“What?”

I lowered my voice as I pulled him away from Daniel. “She’s a cat, right? She thinks like a cat now. She’ll do what every other animal is doing—running away from the fire. We’ll cut through the forest and try to find her on our way back to town.”

He nodded. “I’ll do that. You guys go on. The road’s faster.”

“If Annie’s out there, I’ll help.”

“We’ll help,” Daniel said as he walked over. “Now let’s move it.”

We split up, staying within shouting range. Daniel veered off first. Rafe came over to me after Daniel was gone.

“You didn’t tell him, right?” he said.

“No.” Not yet, I thought. I was sure he’d insist that I never tell Daniel, and I had every intention of doing so, as soon as we were out of this mess. “If he sees her in cat form, he’ll say something to warn us. If that happens, we’ll … figure something out. But we’ll find Annie. One way or another, we’ll find her.”

Maybe I’d been driving fast enough to put some decent distance between us and the flames. Or maybe the fire had shifted direction or hit a firebreak. Whatever the reason, as we searched we weren’t running for our lives with flames licking at our heels.

We could smell it, and ash flakes still drifted down, so we moved at a steady jog, a few hundred feet apart, calling for Annie as we made our way to town.

Like us, the wildlife was on the move but not as panicked about it. I saw families of raccoons and a small herd of black-tailed deer making their way steadfastly toward town. When I caught a glimpse of tawny fur slinking through the underbrush, I picked up speed. Both guys ran over just as the cougar appeared around a hemlock and glanced over at me. Then I saw the grizzled fur and torn ear and let out a sigh.

“Marv.”

He stopped and chirped.

“Go on,” I said. “Find someplace safe.”

Another chirp, like he understood, and he took off at a lope into the forest.

We’d gone about another twenty feet when a crashing in the trees had us all jumping. Something was running our way. Something big enough to make the saplings shake and the dead undergrowth crackle like gunfire.

“Bear!” I shouted.