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say-hwaet · 1 month ago

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High Sierra: A Red Dead Redemption Story

Previous Chapter Chapter Twelve: Into the Inferno Summary: Arthur and Charles enter the lion's den, ready to face the killer and what he's been planning.

Eliza Bloom steps wearily into her small, cozy house after a long day at work. The weight of exhaustion clings to her like a shroud, making each step feel heavier than the last. She was able to maintain her smile and a quick step when she picked up Isaac, and kept her eyes open as she drove through several intersections, but now that she’s home, it’s all falling away like leaves in autumn. With Isaac gently in her arms, she tries to hold onto her last bit of strength as she uses the heel of her sneaker to close the door behind her.

Tossing her purse to the floor, she readjusts Isaac in her arms and steps into the living room.

The room is warm after being drenched in the day’s sun and the temptation to take a nap becomes more overwhelming, but she’s still not done. She can’t feel fully relaxed until she has dinner in the oven and Isaac has had his final treatment for the day.

Gently, Eliza settles Isaac down on the couch. He’s had a long, fun day with his grandparents and he slept most of the way back. Once his head hits the decorative pillow, he opens his eyes and grimaces. He knows what’s coming.

"Let me go get your vitamin shots,” Eliza says softly as she rises.

"Oh, Mom,” the eight-year-old groans. “Do we have to?"

She knows he hates it, and he’s been such a good sport about it until lately. She knows that his father’s absence has something to do with it. Since they’ve been hardly speaking and Arthur has been busier with his job, the game warden hasn’t been around or even stopped by to pick his son up. But Eliza is tired. She struggles to find a reason for him to keep going this time. "Isaac, it is helping you feel so much better. Do you want to quit now?"

Isaac rises as he rubs his eyes, the frown still planted on his face. "Well, no, but I hate the shots."

Eliza sits down next to her son and wipes some dirt from his face. Maybe he had too much fun at Hosea and Bessie's. She chuckles briefly.

What can she do to help motivate him? Something easily done but also exciting. Then it comes to her. She remembers the strange tin box that Arthur had given their son. It had been a peculiar find in the woods, and now it sits on the coffee table, its contents a mystery waiting to be unraveled. How she let it sit there for days is beyond her. Maybe she’s really been that busy.

She looks back at her son and cards her fingers through his fuzzy hair. "I'll tell you what. We do the shots real quick, and then I will help you open that tin box your daddy gave you."

She notices a glimmer of anticipation in his eyes. His excitement is bittersweet, reminding her of the simple joys that are hard to find anymore. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Gosh, does he look like his daddy. "Okay, Mommy."

Eliza returns his smile and pushes her fatigued body off the couch. Going into the linen closet, she retrieves the black bag that they both know all too well. It feels heavier than normal but she turns around and heads back into the living room. Isaac watches her as she sets the bag on the coffee table and eases back onto the couch beside him. As she opens the bag, gets out the kit, and puts on the medical gloves, his body tenses.

“Try to relax, hon,” she says softly. “Would a song help?”

He doesn’t speak, but he nods his head slowly.

Eliza begins to sing one of his favorites.

I was hangin' 'round town, just spendin' my time Out of a job, not earnin' a dime A feller steps up and he said, "I suppose You're a bronc fighter from looks of your clothes" "you figures me right, I'm a good one" I claim "do you happen to have any bad ones to tame?" Said "he's got one, a bad one to buck At throwin' good riders, he's had lots of luck"

She continues with the song, hitting the notes perfectly in her alto key. Isaac gasps when she injects the needle into the vitamin vile, eyeing the liquid as it fills the syringe. After pushing the air out of it, Eliza pauses her singing. “Okay, you ready?”

Isaac nods. Such a brave kid.

Eliza continues the song, humming this time, as she pulls back on Isaac’s shorts to expose his thigh just past the knee. Then, pinching up his leg muscle, she quickly inserts the needle. Isaac grimaces but makes no sound. She pushes down on the plunger as quickly as she can manage, then pulls it out. “All done.”

“Bandaid?” Isaac whimpers.

Of course. After disposing of the needle in the biohazard case, Eliza leans over and picks up a box of assorted band-aids. “Do you want coyotes or the deer ones?”

Isaac thinks it over. “The deer ones.”

Eliza smiles and pulls out a deer-patterned band-aid. “Deer it is, then.” She peels off the backing and then puts the band-aid over the little, red bead that’s bubbled on his skin. She runs a hand over it in a comforting gesture. “There.”

"Mom," Isaac begins, his voice rising in hope, "can we open the box now? Please?"

Eliza's heart aches at her son's plea. With a sigh, she leans from the couch and picks up the tin box, placing it in her lap. “A deal’s a deal.”

Isaac readjusts himself to sit up next to her and leans into her warm body for comfort, still wanting his mama after the ordeal. It is something he will never quite get used to, despite the past couple of years of being pricked and prodded.

Eliza eyes the lock. “It’s a rotary lock.”

At her words, Isaac’s eyes brighten. “Those ones are easy to get open.”

This surprises Eliza and with a smirk, she looks down at her son, a brow raised. “Since when could you open locks?”

Isaac shrugs. “Daddy taught me. Said I could get out of a scrap that way.”

Eliza isn’t sure how to take that. She knows he was a troubled youth in the system before Bessie and Hosea adopted him, so it’s possible he’s learned a few tricks. He has talked with her about his past, when they’ve laid awake late together at night. They’d talk the hours away until one of them would fall asleep.

Those were some good times. Good memories. Memories she finds her mind reaching towards, but never fully grasping.

Isaac reaches out towards the box. “Can I try to open it?”

Eliza blinks, coming out of her reverie, and clears her throat. “Have at it, hon.”

He holds out his hands open-palmed and she places the box in them. With trembling fingers, full of excitement, Isaac brings the box close to his ear. As he listens carefully, he manipulates the rotary lock, the soft clicks filling the air with a sense of anticipation. Finally, the lock gives way, and he lets out a soft gasp. “I did it, Mom!”

"Well! That was quick! Let's see what's inside," Eliza says encouragingly.

Her son nods and carefully lifts the lid, their eyes watching eagerly to see its contents. A small plume of dust comes up and Eliza swats it away. She hopes that wasn’t toxic, but says nothing for fear that it will worry Isaac.

They eye the first thing that sits in the box. Inside, a folded map, with frayed edges, catches Eliza’s attention. There doesn’t seem to be anything else inside.

Isaac looks at it, almost disappointed. "This isn't a geocache," he grumbles. “Don’t they have more stuff?”

Yes, they do, but they must be positive. "Well, this map might have something interesting on it,” Eliza offers. “A treasure map?"

Isaac frowns. "Treasure maps are old, Mom. This looks newer than that."

"Not all," she smiles.

Eliza takes the map out of the box and carefully begins to unfold it. It may not be an ancient map, but she still doesn’t want to be careless.

“Careful, Mommy…”

Eliza snorts. “I am, keep your shirt on.”

She can’t blame Isaac for his excitement. Not much doesn’t get him going anymore and it’s becoming contagious. Her heart lurches as it finally comes open and her eyes scan the surface.

And she recognizes it immediately. It’s a map of High Sierra.

And it’s distinctly marked. Her breath catches in her throat as she eyes the marked locations. They aren’t just cities or points of interest, they are the same locations where the two bodies had been found.

And above each marking read the words in red, bold letters:

MEETING

Eliza’s eyes narrow. "What...? What is this box?" Eliza tries to hide the panic in her voice.

"What's wrong, Mom?"

She shakes her head. Something in the pit of her stomach is telling her this isn’t good. She’s just stepped into something dangerous. What lies in her hands is incriminating evidence. But she can’t let Isaac know. She can’t add more stress and worry into his life. She slowly rises to her feet, folding up the map before Isaac can get a good look at it. "Just...just give me a moment, baby."

Suddenly, her phone vibrates in her pocket. She quickly pulls it out, hoping it is Arthur.

It isn't. It's Edith.

Her heart sinks but still, she answers it. "Hello? Edith?"

"Eliza!" There is fear in the widow’s voice.

"Edith? What's wrong?"

"I remember! I-I-I remember!" Edith hyperventilates.

"Calm down, Edith. Remember what?"

"I remember his name! The man that Thomas spoke to on the phone!"

Eliza's eyes widen and her heart begins to pound in her chest. "Who is it? Tell me...!"

"His name is Micah! Micah Bell! I remember because his name came up on the list of High Sierra's most wanted tonight. They haven't found him yet, and it makes sense now! Thomas was going to go to the police, but he killed him! He killed my husband!"

The realization hits Eliza like a punch in the gut. Whoever was responsible for the killings, the owner of the tin box, and the man Thomas threatened is the same person. He had planned it all as if this is a sick game. Fear claws at her chest. But the fear isn’t for her.

She has to focus now. She has lives to protect.

"Edith,” she begins, her voice firm. “You need to call the police. I need to call someone."

Eliza can hear the trembling in Edith’s voice as she speaks. "Eliza, I am scared."

"Don't be. We need to be calm about this. Call the police, and don't leave your house, do you understand?"

"Yes."

Eliza nods, letting her exhale a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. "Okay, I need to go."

"Bye, Eliza."

Eliza quickly hangs up and her fingers shake as she dials Arthur's number.

Isaac, who has been anxiously observing the exchange, gets up from the couch and goes to her, his voice fearful. "Mommy...?"

"It'll be alright, baby. I just need to give your daddy a call, okay? Go to your room and relax for a minute. We can have some popcorn and a movie in a little bit, how does that sound?"

Isaac only nods and walks to his room.

Her phone starts to ring.

And ring.

She feels a sting in her eyes, her heart threatening to beat right out of her chest. "Pick up, pick up, pick up..."

But there is no answer.

Panic surges within her, threatening to consume her. Who else can she call? Where can he be reached?

Then she remembers. He had been working with the fire department. Eliza calls the local number, praying that someone will be able to help.

There is a soft click at the pick-up, and a woman's voice answers the phone. “High Sierra Fire, Lieutenant Adler speaking."

That name. Arthur had mentioned he worked with a firefighter named Sadie Adler. This has to be her!

"Lieutenant Adler? Y-you know my...You know Arthur Morgan?"

There is a short pause on the other line. "...Who is this?"

"This is Eliza Bloom," she stammers, her voice filled with urgency. "I can't get a hold of him. Something has happened, and this was the only place that I could think to call. He said he was helping with controlled burns..."

"Yeah, but we aren't doing those right now. What's wrong with Arthur?"

Eliza tries to keep her voice down, lest her boy hear her trembling voice. "I...I don't know...but he...I think he's been investigating two killings…” She hesitates to share anything. Arthur had asked her not to speak of it to anyone, and she was already risking her neck in talking to Edith and digging into these cases on her own.

But things are different now. Arthur’s life could be on the line. She swallows as she explains, “Those hunting accidents? They weren't accidents."

From the other end, Eliza suddenly hears a siren blaring. Sadie's voice is muffled as she talks to someone, a sense of urgency lining her words. Then, after a pause, her voice becomes clear again. "Ms. Bloom, I'm sorry, but I have to go. We just got a call about a new forest fire, and I can't ignore it. I'll do what I can to help, but for now, keep your phone on your person. You might need to call the police."

This wasn’t what she was hoping for. If Lieutenant Adler doesn’t know where he is, then she’ll have to call the Department of Fish and Wildlife, but that could get him in serious trouble.

She doesn’t want to keep Sadie waiting so she lets out a puff of air. "Alright."

"Goodbye."

The line goes dead, leaving Eliza staring at the phone in disbelief. Panic wraps its icy tendrils around her heart as she realizes that help is far from reach. Eliza can’t go to the police yet. Something in her gut is telling her to wait, despite the Lieutenant’s advice.

Hosea. She needs to call Hosea. She hurriedly searches his name in her contacts, presses “call”, and hears the beating of her heart drum louder than the dial tone.

ring

“Hello, you’ve reached Hosea—”

“—And Bessie…!”

“Haha…! We’re not available at the moment, so if you’ll leave your name and number, we will get back to you as soon as we can.”

“You take care now!”

“Happy trails…!”

Click!

No. This can’t be happening.

In the silence that engulfs her, Eliza can’t shake off the suffocating dread that hangs in the air. Darkness looms on the horizon, threatening everything she holds dear. Uncertainty grips her, and she can only pray that she will see Arthur again.

She continues the rest of the way into the kitchen and into the dining room, sitting down in a chair, waiting for the unknown.

She doesn’t want to just sit and do nothing, but the despair hangs heavier than her feet can carry. Deep down in her chest, she can’t help but wonder if the truth they have been seeking was worth the price they might pay.

***

The night is thick with darkness, the moon hiding behind a veil of clouds as Arthur Morgan and Charles Smith venture further into the dense forest. Their footsteps are muffled by the moist earth, their senses heightened as they navigate through the towering trees.

All the while, as his boots make every step, Arthur’s instincts are screaming to go back. This is too much. You’re just a game warden. What can you do?

But he feels something. Something deep in his gut that fights that warning. He was born for this. He is a man against the world, against a place that wants nothing more than to bring him down. People doubted him, and thought little of him, but they will see how wrong they were.

He won’t admit it, but he wants to be a hero. Someone his son can look up to. He wants to be the very opposite of what Lyle Morgan was and is.

Charles and Arthur hold their guns, fingers poised on the triggers, prepared for any confrontation. The scent of pine needles fills the air, mingling with the undeniable acrid aroma of smoke.

Smoke. A fire.

Arthur and Charles share a knowing look. They’re close.

They keep moving and soon the forest is aglow with an eerie light, casting long shadows that move around them.

Suddenly, a gust of wind carries the sound of crackling flames and the sight of flickering orange light brightens. “This way, Charles…!” Arthur calls loud enough for his partner to hear and, crouching slightly, Arthur takes the lead.

Their hearts pound in unison as they hasten towards the source. Through the thick foliage, they break free, only to come face to face with a raging inferno.

They can feel the heat singeing their faces, the smoke stinging their eyes. The flames seem to dance, mocking their presence. The forest that Arthur has known so well, the sanctuary he had once found solace in, is now transformed into a treacherous maze.

And before their very eyes fire grows voraciously, consuming everything in its path.

“We have to go around it!” Arthur calls out to Charles behind him. “No doubt Bell is on the other side!”

“I’m with you, Arthur…!”

The fire isn’t going to slow down, so they have to move fast. “Alright, Charles, stay close…!”

Feeling his muscles charged, Arthur breaks into a steady run. The heat of the flames will become unbearable if he can’t find an opening or a way around it. He keeps his eyes moving, searching through the scorching forest for any sign of escape.

And there, as though an answer to prayer, a dirt path opens itself for them. The flames lick at its sides but it isn’t blocked. Arthur waves on. “Though here!” And he pushes forward.

He hears Charles close behind. If anything, they need to stick together. If they are separated, he knows their chances of survival will be slim.

And then, his worst fears materialize before him. A large tree, blackened by the flames, groans and cracks like gunshots. He looks up to see it falling down fast. With only a second to react, Charles and Arthur jump in opposite directions to get out of the way. The tree makes contact with the earth, shaking the ground and jostling Arthur as he tries to rise to his feet. He’s covered in dirt and ash and coughs as smoke fills his lungs.

He turns around, only to see the large tree blocking the path, and with his partner not in sight. Panic tightens Arthur's chest as he loses sight of Charles in the inferno. "Charles!" he calls.

He can hear a faint call back, but he can't understand him. “That you, Charles?!”

The voice echoes again. “…Fine…! Go…Arth—-…!”

Thank God. Charles is alive, but the danger still roars around them. Fear still gnaws at Arthur, his training telling him to never abandon his partner. “Charles!”

“Go…! Get that bastard…!”

He needs to press on. He has to find Michael Barnes—Micah Bell—whoever he is, once and for all.

“I’ll come back for you, Charles!” Arthur calls as he turns around. The path is narrower now, the flames consuming the brush and grass that border the dirty path. The smoke is increasing, and he feels like a Mormon for not bringing his respirator. Covering his mouth with his sleeve, he dodges the flames that creep up the grass and leaves of the trees, and he breaks into a hard run. He has to find a way out of this torrent of heat and flames.

And just as the flames nearly lick his boots, he spots a clearing, a spot where Sadie must have done a controlled burn. The ground is old ash, stumps and large rocks clearly rolled out of harm’s way. He can be safe here for a moment to gather his bearings. He jumps over a burning log and runs for it. He makes it, his heart pounding amidst the chaos.

And then, he feels it. A sharp blow to the back of his head, which causes him to drop his weapon. Groaning, he staggers to his feet and turns to face his attacker.

Micah Bell. But it isn’t any surprise to the game warden.

The adversary stands before him, a sinister smirk etched across his face. The glow of the fire surrounding them reflects in his eyes, giving him an otherworldly, evil appearance.

"Couldn't stay away, could you, Morgan?" Micah sneers, his voice dripping with malice. "You can't always play the hero and get to walk away."

Despite seeing stars and coughing from all the smoke, anger surges within Arthur like the wildfire surrounding him. He squares his shoulders and pushes through the pain in the back of his skull, his gaze boring into Micah's soul. "You're a monster, Micah. A coward hidin’ behind aliases and lies. You don’t get to kill people and escape the truth."

Micah chuckles, the sound echoing eerily in the midst of the crackling flames. "Truth? There is no truth, just survival. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to survive."

His words ignite a firestorm of rage within Arthur. Every fiber of his being demanding retribution, demanding answers. “So you admit that you killed Mr. Dowes and Leigh Gray."

Micah's smirk falters for a fraction of a second. "Oh, I thought you already knew that, Morgan. But since we’re both here, I will tell you that those fools were just in my way." Micah walks closer to Arthur, but the game warden steels himself, readying himself for any attack. The sting in his eyes persists but he tries to keep his gaze on the approaching murderer. "I needed this land for more important business, and those fools were...expendable!"

And as expected, Micah takes a swing at Arthur. The game warden attempts to dodge it, but is taken by a bout of coughing and Micah manages to hit him in the gut with a clenched fist.

Arthur wretches and is forced backward. He takes a few extra steps to gain some distance between himself and Micah so he can try to catch his breath. And one single word is brought to the forefront of his thoughts.

Expendable.

That’s all people are to Micah Bell. Just things in his way. How evil. How cruel. Even with all the thoughts he’s had of his own father, of those who did him wrong, Arthur has never thought of them as “expendable.” This snake called Micah Bell needs to have his head stomped into the ground.

Arthur exhales sharply, his strength and resolve returning. “And Captain Monroe?” he dares to ask. “He’s in on it, too.”

Micah lets out a loud cackle. “That walking law book? He’s too busy hiding behind his position to actually see its potential. But that’ll be changing soon once I’ve made him look like the fool that he is. And if you’re the only hope for this godforsaken city…” He opens his arms in a proud gesture. “It’s all been working in my favor.”

How dare he. Even though the captain is naive, the department would crumble with someone more foolish or corrupt.

Expendable.

Godforsaken.

Not High Sierra. Not his home and all who he cares about. Dutch. Hosea. Bessie. John. Abigail. Jack. Eliza. Isaac.

With a primal yell, Arthur lunges at Micah, and just as he nears him, Micah reaches out to grab him.

But with his strong build and tall stature, Arthur overpowers Micah and pushes him to the ground. He pins him with one hand to his neck and lands two punches in the rat’s smug face. The vermin’s bloodied nose sends adrenaline into Arthur’s system and his desire to finish this only becomes stronger. He had decided to let this fool have his day in court, but it seems more appealing to let him die here.

He’s felt this rush before, when he used to get into fights at the orphanage and in foster homes. He was threatened with aging out of the system someday, and other boys thought he’d be an easy target.

But if he learned anything from his old man, it was to fight. And fight he did. And he loved it. He loved seeing his bullies squirm and beg for mercy.

Then it became anyone who upset him. It took years of love and guidance to learn to do more than speak with his fists. But that instinctual drive has never left him.

Just as Arthur raises his fist to swing down again, Micah reaches into the earth, grabs a fistful of ash, and throws it in Arthur's face.

“Ahh…!” Arthur roars and as his grip lessens, Micah kicks him in the groin. Arthur coughs as he rolls away, wiping the ash from his eyes.

Get up, Arthur! Get up!

He pushes through his pain and rises to his feet, stepping further from where he had grappled Micah to the ground. As he regains his sight, he sees the snake coming at him but meets him head-on.

The two men clash with a loud thud, and the fierce battle of good versus evil begins. , their punches landing with a sickening thud. Each blow encapsulated the years of distrust and enmity between them. As he dodges a swing from Micah, he reaches for his neck and throws him backward. Micah loses his balance but soon gathers his footing and prowls back towards Arthur.

Like two animals, they take their stances and circle each other. Sweat streams down Arthur's face, and his muscles ache, but his will to fight is an unyielding determination. He lunges without warning, and punches Micah in the face. There is an audible crunch and Micah reels backward, falling hard to the ground.

In the midst of the brutal struggle, the dense smoke has risen, twirling and twining around them. Its toxic tendrils encase them both, suffocating the air from their lungs.

And just as Arthur begins to think this will soon be over, darkness descends upon him with a relentless grip, threatening to claim him. He feels weak and starts to cough again. He looks up from his bent-over position to see Micah slowly rising to his feet, still willing to fight. Arthur feels his heart sink. He is about to fail.

Hatred burns in Micah's gaze, a twisted smirk curling his lips despite the blood cascading out of his now broken nose. "You're too late, Morgan," he cackles between heaving breaths. "The fire will cleanse this place, erase all traces of our sins." Micah lets out a hiss-like laugh and after finding a thick branch, stalks toward Arthur as he remains bent over and coughs heavily. He can’t seem to catch his breath, his throat burns. How is Micah still fine? What evil possesses him?

I can't die here, he thinks as he casts his head down for a minute. Not today.

He feels Micah drawing closer.

He hears his son’s voice suddenly in his mind.

We’re partners, Daddy! You and me! ‘Cause I’m gonna be a hero just like you!

Then a softness appears in his memory, a warmth that he instantly recognizes.

I love you, Arthur. That’s the only truth I know.

With a surge of strength and fury that was almost lost, he lunges at Micah and pins him to the ground once more. He administers several blows to Micah's head and quickly wraps his fingers around Micah's throat. Micah tries to kick at him, but his efforts are futile. He squeezes tightly until Micah passes out.

Not detecting any movement, Arthur gets up slowly, gasping. Even as victory is now in his grasp, the encroaching smoke steals his consciousness.

***

“Keep at it, boys!” Sadie Adler calls out to her team of hotshots. She turns to see Charles frantically looking around as he’s carried away on a gurney. She has seen panic before. In men and women who have lost a loved one during a fire. In her men when the flames have grown too large. Even in the toughest of people, when they’ve misplaced someone of dear importance to them, the look is always the same.

After hearing the call from a rancher that he could see smoke in forestry lands beyond his property, Sadie Adler led a team of hotshots to the location, to discover one of the largest forest fires they’ve encountered this year. Not letting its intimidating glow deter her, she led her men through the flames as they fought to put the fire out. Through the chaos, their determination unwavering, they navigated the labyrinth of flames, their protective gear a shield against the inferno. That is when they spotted Charles, face smeared with ash and coughing incessantly.

They immediately set out to get him oxygen, which he initially refused. But Sadie isn’t easily dissuaded from any task. Using her authoritative position, she ordered Charles to take the oxygen and tell her what happened.

When he told her, she then realized that Eliza was right. Arthur was in grave danger.

She holds out a hand to stop the two men that are carrying him out. “Hold on, boys.” Though she rarely ever offers consolation, she reaches toward him and places her hand on his shoulder. “We’ll find him, Charles,” she says calmly. and watches him nod once. “You said you and Arthur got separated just ahead?”

Charles speaks as clearly as he can between soft coughs. “find a large, fallen pine tree.” Charles points westward. “It was that way. He kept heading west into the flames.”

She nods and then waves the two men on. After a moment, she turns to the remaining three men with her. “Let’s go. Keep close. We’re looking for a large pine tree.”

One of the hotshots looks disgruntled. “Isn’t this a pine forest?”

Sadie scowls. “You’re lucky I need your sorry hide, otherwise I’d leave you here to mull over your smart remarks. Now, focus up and keep your eyes peeled.”

The team follows Sadie’s lead, their pace quickening against the roar of the engulfing flames. The ground beneath them crackles with every step they take, a symphony of fire that threatens to consume them.

She remains vigilant, Charles wouldn’t have described the tree if it wasn’t significant. Something must stand out about it, something to grab the eyes. This fire isn’t like anything she’s seen before.

“Lieutenant!” a hotshot, large and boarish, calls out to her. “Here!”

She hurries to her left, and there lies the remnants of a fallen tree, its body blackened and cavernous from the flame’s consumption.

This has to be it. “Good work, Williamson, we’re close!” Sadie shouts and begins to run further westward. “This way!”

The deafening sound of splintering trees filled the air as they crashed to the ground around them. Despite the terror and uncertainty gripping the hearts of her men, Sadie remained resolute in her mission to reach her target.

“Maybe we should head back…!” the youngest hotshot cries out.

She looks back and flashes a look hotter than the flames surrounding them. “Not on your life, we aren’t! Come on…!”

Arthur can’t be far now. Every instinct Sadie has is screaming that he is within their reach, just beyond the thick smoke and rising embers that dance around them like malevolent spirits.

The air is acrid, burning their throats with each breath they take, but Sadie pushes forward relentlessly. Each step feels both eternal and fleeting as they penetrate deeper into the heart of the inferno. The world around them is a blur of orange and black, punctuated by the sharp cracks of fire consuming wood.

As thick smoke billows all around, obscuring their view, Sadie's sharp eyes finally catch sight of Arthur's motionless figure on the ground, in the center of what’s left of a safe patch of ash.

And beside him is a man she’s never seen before. Regardless of who he is and how he got here, she needs to get them both to the hospital. She only hopes that she isn’t too late.

“We need to hurry!” With unwavering resolve, she rushes to Arthur’s side, the flames licking at her heels. The heat is unbearable and oppressive, but she refuses to surrender.

Arthur's consciousness flickers like the flames around him; reality seems to blur in and out. As Sadie approaches, he can barely make out her figure through his smoke-stung eyes. She kneels beside him, her voice a soothing but urgent whisper amidst the chaos.

"Arthur! Can you hear me?" she calls, but he is too weak to answer, even if he is able to understand her.

With adrenaline-fueled determination, Sadie and her team work to pull Arthur and the maimed stranger to safety. The heat from the flames threatens to consume them, but they push forward with unwavering strength. Each step feels like a battle won against the fiery inferno that rages around them, and they refuse to give up until their mission is complete.

It is hard work carrying two, full-grown men through a maze of debris and flames, but Sadie encourages her men with barks and tough love.

Despite the danger and chaos, Sadie can’t help but feel a sense of triumph as they emerge victorious from the flames, their resilience and bravery shining through in the face of disaster.

She only considers it safe when her team meets up with the two men that carried Charles out and pulls out her handheld radio. “This is LT-K247. We need a chopper at the edge of Redemption Cavern. We got three needing immediate transportation to the hospital.” After hearing confirmation, she tucks her radio away and turns to her men. “Good work, boys, but we ain’t done yet.”

As they wait for the helicopter, Arthur struggles between consciousness and delirium, his eyes occasionally fluttering open to catch glimpses of Sadie's concerned face hovering above him. Her expression is stern, yet there's a softness in her eyes that belies her tough exterior.

"Stay with me, Arthur," she murmurs in the way she does best. “We’re almost there.”

It is nearly fifteen minutes before the helicopter arrives.

The rotors disrupt the smoky air, stirring up ash and debris as it touches down. Sadie, still hovering like a protective guardian over Arthur, helps to secure him onto the stretcher. Her hands are steady despite the turmoil, her focus unyielding. The medics work quickly, efficiency honed by urgency, but Arthur, Charles, and Micah are loaded into the aircraft.

Sadie turns to her men. “The rest of you make sure that this fire goes out. I’ll be sending more to join you. Williamson, you’re in charge now, don’t go in there without backup.”

They nod and feeling confident in her order, she jumps in the helicopter, sitting directly beside Arthur's stretcher. As the helicopter lifts off, the ground below them becomes a chaotic blend of smoke and lights, but Sadie's attention is fixed firmly on Arthur.

Arthur’s eyes flick open again, pain and confusion warping his features. He tries to speak, his voice a raspy whisper barely audible.

“Don’t speak, Arthur,” Sadie says as she holds him steady once the helicopter lifts and escapes the flames.

With a swift and anxious glance behind her, she catches sight of the raging inferno. The flames dance wildly, fueled by something more than just natural kindling. It had to have been ignited with gasoline, or some other highly flammable substance. She knows she needs to act fast to get it under control, but her priority is making sure these injured men make it to the hospital alive. The heat from the fire prickles at her skin and the acrid smell of smoke, even from this height, fills her nostrils. She will get to the bottom of this, and touch base with the fire chief. But for now, her task is simple.

"Is Arthur alright?" Charles asks weakly, coughing aggressively.

Sadie looks him over and sees Arthur take a breath. As long as there’s breath, there is hope and she feels her voice become filled with resolve. "You're safe now, Arthur. You're safe. I'll get you back to her, I promise."

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