Primal Threat - Earl Emerson [132]
Running put new stresses on his already overtaxed leg muscles and, as he ran, Zak’s legs began to cramp. If he could get on his bike, it would be better, he thought, as shadows from a cloud of black smoke scudded up the mountain over their heads. He heard an explosion behind him: probably the Porsche’s interior as it reached ignition temperature and burst into flame.
It didn’t irritate Zak that Kasey was ahead of him. What irritated him was that Kasey hadn’t turned around, hadn’t given Zak a second thought. It made him sick to watch panic manipulate people, knowing it could just as easily manipulate him. Ironically, they were running toward the bodies, seeking refuge in what had already proved to be a deadly trap for Kasey’s two friends. The bike began to feel heavier and heavier. He had the feeling that without the additional burden of the bicycle, he might be able to run himself into a groove, and perhaps the stiffness in his legs would ease up, but he didn’t let go of the bike and consequently was forced to slow down. He could hear trees crackling like distant gunfire. His shoulders and the backs of his legs were beginning to grow hot. So this was what it was like to get chased down by a forest fire. This was what it was like to die alone in the woods. At least he would be able to stop moving. He’d been moving all day, and he was so tired…At least he’d be able to rest.
As he pushed his bike up the mountainside, he began thinking about his own impending death. He knew Nadine would eventually go on to marry somebody else. In years to come, he would be the firefighter boyfriend she had that one summer. By the time she had grandchildren, she might not be able to recall his name. There would be a hole in the world where Zak had been, but it would be a very small one, just as in the grand scheme of things, with billions of people on the planet, most humans left rather small holes when they died.
As Zak ran, Kasey cast a glance back over his shoulder for the first time. It was clear from his movements that he wasn’t checking to see how Zak was doing but was instead gauging the distance to the fire.
Sighting a small boulder on the left side of the road, Zak ran toward it, pushing his bike, vaulting up onto the rock and leaping onto the saddle. He’d already put the bike into the second lowest gear in expectation of something like this and was able to power through the dead spots at the top and bottom of his pedal stroke as he slowly picked up speed. As soon as he got into a rhythm, the fire leaped forward and began roaring down his neck. He’d gotten just enough distance by hopping on his bicycle that the heat didn’t take him down immediately. He could smell hair sizzling. No matter what happened, he wasn’t going to give up. He would ride until the tires on the bike exploded. He wasn’t going to give up.
The wind picked up and began blasting him from left to right, just hard enough to take some of the heat off him.
Deep down he knew if he stopped for even a second or two the fire would overtake him and he would drop onto the road like the others. Getting back onto the bike when he did had been a stroke of luck. He no longer felt his legs cramping. He was now in a position he’d assumed for hundreds, if not thousands, of hours every year, and his body knew it well.
He quickly gained enough ground on the fire so that he was no longer breathing superheated air. The atmosphere around him remained hot and smoky, but at least his lungs could extract minimal amounts of oxygen. He was now moving at the same speed as the fire. Without realizing it, he’d been growing more and more hypoxic. His legs ached, his lungs burned, and he felt as if he was going to faint, but he kept riding. With all his troubles, he was reeling in Kasey, who increased his tempo as they both crossed from the dry ground to the previously charred section of the mountain where the two bodies lay.
When Kasey came upon the first body,