Page 41 of Falling for the Playboy Pilot

DALTON

I was back on the ground for the second time, watching the crew while sucking down a bottle of water. The retardant was flowing into my belly tank when Chief’s voice crackled through the radio, tense and urgent.

“All units, this is Base. The fire jumped the highway. I repeat, the fire has jumped the highway. No road access in or out of Hollow Gorge. We are officially cut off.”

My blood went cold. Hollow Gorge was one of those mountain towns that existed because of geography, not convenience.

Nestled in a narrow valley between two ridges, there was only one road that snaked through the canyon to connect it to the outside world.

The highway was the lifeline. It was the only way in and the only way out.

Everything else was sheer rock face or wilderness so thick you’d need a machete and three days to hike through it.

UTVs might be able to get out, but with a wildfire raging, that was an even riskier option.

If the fire had jumped the highway, anyone left in town would be trapped. The entire town was now an island surrounded by flames. If the fire made it into the valley, it would be like a wind tunnel. It would whip through Hollow Gorge in a matter of minutes.

“Fuck,” I muttered, setting down the water bottle.

One of the men shook his head. “My wife and kids evacuated this morning. They should be clear.”

Should be wasn’t good enough. Not today.

Chief’s voice came through again. “All aircraft, priority one is now Hollow Gorge defense.”

“Evacuation status?” I asked into the headset. I needed to hear the confirmation.

“Choppers got everyone out they could find,” Chief said. “Hospital’s clear, assisted living center’s clear. It’s just property now, boys. But it’s their whole lives. We’re going to save this town or die trying.”

It felt like we were all watching Hollow Gorge’s last stand.

We were the last hope. Firefighters could do little to stop what was coming.

It was too risky to have anyone on the ground.

We were going to have to dump thousands of pounds of retardant on the town to save it.

And even then, I knew it was going to be a major challenge.

“Gilbert, how much longer?” I called out.

“Thirty seconds!” he shouted back, sweat streaming down his face.

Chief’s voice came through again. “Herc, you’re our heavy hitter. I need you to lay down a wall of retardant on the edge of town. Create a firebreak between the residential area and that advancing front. Laser’s going to walk you through the drop zones. We’ve got two drops down but we need more.”

“Copy that, Chief.”

The fuel line disconnected with a metallic clang. Gilbert gave me a thumbs-up and slapped the side of my aircraft. “Goi save our town, Herc!”

I pushed the throttles forward and lifted off into the hellscape.

The smoke was thicker now, a choking black wall that made the world dark.

Below me, I could see the orange glow advancing like lava, consuming everything in its path.

I flew along the edge. The heat from the flames heated the window on my right side.

“Spotter One to Herc,” Laser’s voice cut through the static. “I’ve got eyes on the north perimeter. Fire’s moving fast toward Maple Street. We’ve got maybe ten minutes before it hits the first houses.”

“Roger that. Lining up for approach.”

The yoke felt like someone was trying to jerk it out of my hands.

I was fighting hard, pulling back and then forward as I rode through one round of turbulence and then another.

Thank God I didn’t have time to eat breakfast. I felt like someone was trying to turn me into a milkshake.

The shaking and vibrating threatened to have me regurgitating the water I just downed.

I needed my playlist, but in the hurry to get in the air, I left my phone on the ground. The wind was brutal. Thermals rising from the fire created violent updrafts that wanted to flip me upside down. I fought the controls, muscles burning with the effort.

And this was why I tried to stay in good shape. Fighting the wind wasn’t easy. And on days that I had to fight for eight to fifteen hours, all those hours in the gym paid off.

I spotted Laser’s plane up ahead. She was flying low. The woman had balls of steel.

“Herc, you’re looking good. Drop zone is coming up.”

I focused on her while doing my best to pay attention to my gauges. I barely noticed the heat. It was hot out and flying over the inferno had me legit sweating under my collar.

“Smoke dropped,” Laser said.

I squinted through the smoke, searching for Laser’s marker. I spotted the thick hot pink haze drifting through the black. I dropped in altitude. I was getting right on top of it. “Got it. Coming in for the drop.”

“Herc.” Laser’s tone was filled with warning.

I ignored her and dropped lower.

“Herc, what are you doing?” Chief asked.

“I’m going to put this bitch out,” I replied.

At one-sixty, I hit the button and felt the aircraft surge upward as 1,200 gallons of red retardant poured out below me. It hit clean. No drifting or splattering. A perfect wedge of protection.

But it wasn’t enough. We needed a few more passes.

“Coming back in,” I said and started to climb.

I managed to get above the worst turbulence, which allowed me to fly a little faster back to the field. It was the same process, sliding across the tarmac and pulling to a stop. The crew rushed in.

I had just taken off and was headed back to the same area when the radio clicked on and then off. And then I heard it click on again, but no one spoke right away.

“Herc.” Laser’s tone had the hair on the back of my neck standing up. Whatever she had to say wasn’t good. “We’ve lost contact with Janna and Pickle.”

Every muscle in me clenched.

“Where?” I asked.

“They got caught in a whirl. Last transmission from Pickle was he was trying to bring it down on Main.”

She was using her professional voice. She only used that when shit was real. All of us were pretty used to the craziness and most of us used humor to keep things chill. Humor and cockiness. Laser was all business right then, which said it all.

“Did they put out a mayday?” I asked. My tone was just as cold as hers.

“No.”

“Radio?”

“Nothing.”

I took a deep breath. The many scenarios that ran through my mind were anything but good.

I wanted to ask if anyone saw an explosion. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I needed to hold on to that hope. Pickle was a damn good pilot. If he knew he was going down, he’d cut the engine to shut off the fuel line. That gave them a chance.

“Who do we have up?” I asked.

She knew what I was asking. “Just you. Wild Bill is heading out to a group of hotshots that are about to get boxed in.”

Fuck .

“Dalton.” Her use of my given name scared me even more.

“Tell me,” I said.

“There’s no one. Chief says he has to look at the bigger picture. We’re directing all our resources to stopping the forward progression but it’s already there. They are there, Dalton. The last communication said they were going to try and make it to the evac zone. Main Street.”

I heard everything she wasn’t saying. Janna and Pickle were on their own. There was no one to save them.

Except me. And I wasn’t foolish enough to think I could swoop in and pick them up. I was in a fucking S-2. I needed something to land on. And then I had to try and figure out how to take off, which was easier said than done through a wall of flames.

I took a deep breath and calmed my nerves. I knew Chief was listening to the comms. He couldn’t ask me to do anything, but I knew he would want me to tell everyone to fuck off and do it anyway. I was the cowboy with no fucks to give.

“Can I land? On pavement?”

“Negative. Main street is too narrow. Maybe near Sullivan Farm. There’s limited fire activity out that way right now.”

My jaw clenched as I considered my options. I had to consider the terrain. There were fences. Trees. Soft ground from planting. Animals. The barns.

“Get air support to flank the farm,” I said. “That’s my way in and it will be our way out.”

“Herc, I need you to think about this,” Chief’s voice came through. “Chopper One just touched down from the evac zone. He says the whole area is compromised. Visibility is zero, winds are chaotic, and the fire’s moving faster than we’ve ever seen.”

I jerked the yoke hard toward Sullivan Farm, my decision already made. “What else did he say?”

A pause. Too long. “He said it doesn’t look good, son. The smoke is so thick you can’t see ten feet in any direction. Landing blind in those conditions is suicide.”

“Chief, I’m not asking for permission.”

“Dalton.” His voice dropped, taking on that fatherly tone he used when he was trying to talk sense into me.

“I can’t officially authorize this. You know that.

If something goes wrong, if you don’t make it back, I can’t protect you.

This would be completely off the books. Your choice, your responsibility. ”

I could hear the conflict in his voice. The man who’d become like a father to me, torn between his duty to his people and his duty to the mission. But I also heard something else. It was the same thing I felt burning in my chest. He’d do the same thing if he were in my position.

“Understood, Chief. This is my call.”

“Herc—”

“We’re not losing anyone else.” The words came out harder than I intended. “Not when there’s a chance I can get them out. Not when I can do something about it.”

Silence on the radio. Then Chief’s voice, quieter now. “What do you need?”

That was Chief. He knew me well enough to know I was going whether he blessed it or not. And he cared enough about all of us to help me try to bring them home.

“Keep everyone else clear of the farm. I need a clean approach. I’m dropping my load to clear a path. Get Wild Bill to take my run.”

“Copy that. Laser, you heard him. Set up a perimeter around Sullivan Farm. Keep that corridor open.”

“Roger,” Laser’s voice came through, tight with worry.

I could picture their expressions. Anyone on comms would have that same pinched look. They all assumed I was flying into certain death. We all had our ghosts, our moments when we’d been too late or too far away. This wasn’t going to be one of those moments. Not today.

The farm came into view through the smoke, a patchwork of fields and fencing, with a long stretch of relatively flat ground near the main house. It wasn’t ideal, but it was doable. I’d landed in worse conditions, though never with stakes this high.

I thought about the last thing Janna had said to me. That I might as well bury myself next to my friend because I was already halfway in the ground. Maybe she was right. Maybe I had been living like a dead man, going through the motions without really being alive.

I knew the layout of town well enough to know the quickest route from the farm to Main Street.

I wasn’t thinking about roads. There were more direct paths.

I swept around again, dropped in altitude, and hoped I had enough to cut a clear path.

I hit the button and dropped a fat line of fire retardant along the path I intended to travel, assuming I survived the hard landing.

I dropped the landing gear and throttled down for the final approach.

Corn stalks whipped past the cockpit, then wheels slammed hard halfway into the field.

It was far harder than I wanted, but it held.

The force of the impact had my entire body rocking forward but I held onto the yoke out of sheer desperation.

I mowed through the field, praying I didn’t start a fire.

When the plane finally came to a stop, it took me a few seconds to orient myself. I was pretty sure I cracked a rib or two. My head had slammed against the seat pretty hard.

But I didn’t have time to catalog injuries. Every second counted.

I hit the radio. “Pickle, come in. Where are you?”

Silence. My heart sank.

Hold on, baby. I’m coming for you. Just hold on, Janna.