Page 13 of Ink and Ashes

Dom’s voice pulls me back to the present. “Let’s see what we can find at the ignition site. If there are signs of arson, I’ll support you. If not, I’m afraid you’re on your own unless you find something more convincing.”

My lips quirk up into a smile. “I’ll take it.”

“What about that?” I ask Dom as I point to another burn pattern in the trees. It looks the same as the other spots we’ve checked out, yet I can’t help but hope there’s more to it.

I glance up as he comes to stand beside me, leaning down to get a better look. He runs two fingers over the blackened area, shaking his head.

“Nah, that’s just a typical burn from the flames too.

The fire was moving north, so it’s normal for the side of the tree that was facing the fire to be more burnt than the opposite.

The ignition site was over here,” he tells me, moving back in the direction we just came.

He gestures to a spot on the forest floor that’s darker than everywhere else.

“This is the typical marking for a zombie fire. ”

My brows pull together. “The fuck is a zombie fire?”

Dom chuckles. “Haven’t come across that term in your research yet?”

I shake my head, confusion clear on my face.

“Ground fires can lay dormant for weeks or months at a time, burning through the soil layer before igniting the surface.”

“Yeah, Colson mentioned that. But isn’t it called a holdover fire?”

“That’s the technical term we use when speaking with people who don’t know better. We like to call them zombie fires.”

“Because they ‘rise from the dead’?” I joke.

Dom shrugs, smirking. “Essentially, yeah. And they’re almost always caused by lightning strikes.

There’s a layer in the soil known as peat, which is decomposing plant material that is typically enough to keep a fire smouldering through the winter months.

Once things dry up in the spring and the surface matter becomes flammable, it ignites there. Boom, wildfire.”

I raise my brows. “Boom. Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

I drop my shoulders. “But how can you tell the difference between a holdover fire and, say, someone coming and lighting the forest floor on fire?”

Dom stares at me momentarily before he asks, “How much do you really know about arson?” as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“You want the truth?”

Dom nods, and I blow out a breath.

“About the same as I do fire investigation. Before coming here, I’d never studied anything related to fire in my life.”

His brows pull together. “Then what made you choose to do this? And why are you so sure these fires are being caused by arson when you don’t even know how to find it?”

I resist the urge to flinch at his harshness. Dom does not seem to be one for sugar-coating things.

“I needed a change. I know there’s a possibility that these fires are nothing, and that I’m completely in over my head and have no idea what to look for.

But when I heard about these fires on the news, something in my gut told me there was more to the story.

A town like yours doesn’t just suddenly start getting double the number and size of its usual fires without an explanation, does it? ”

Dom shakes his head. “Not usually, no. But it’s not so unlikely that our first instinct is to assume arson. We know better than that.”

My shoulders fall. “I read online that wildfire arson can be tricky to prove because many of the well-known arson indicators can occur naturally in wooded areas. Burn patterns, accelerant traces…so just because we aren’t seeing them doesn’t mean it’s not arson, right?”

“I’m not saying it’s entirely out of the realm of possibility, but there are very few proven cases of wildfire arson in Canada that I know about.

Normally, cases labelled as human interference are from campfires getting out of control or a hot match being thrown on a dead patch of the forest floor, not people coming out and intentionally setting fire to the area. ”

Dom takes a step closer to the ignition site.

“To answer your question, though, a holdover fire results in a burnt ground layer as well as surface layer.” He pulls a glove out of his back pocket, tugging it on his hand as he begins scraping back debris on the forest floor.

When he gets down far enough, he adds, “See? The roots of this tree have been burned, and the soil around it is black. There are patterns of it having ignited the surface layer at one point before this last fire. My guess is there wasn’t enough dry material to keep it burning above ground at the time, so it laid dormant beneath the surface until there was. ”

My shoulders fall. “So this one wasn’t arson.”

Dom shakes his head. “I’m not an expert, but all the signs we’re seeing point to it being naturally caused.”

“Okay,” I accept. “Out of curiosity though, is it possible for a surface fire to spread to the ground layer?”

“Yeah, it could. But it’s much less common than the other way around. And based on the degree of burning I’m seeing, I’d say this one actually was a holdover fire.”

“Alright. Well, thanks anyway.” I still feel like there’s something up, but I don’t want to waste more of his time today.

Dom collects his gear. “Have you visited the scenes of the other fires?”

“A few of them, but I didn’t find much there either. I haven’t made it out to the ones that are more than an hour’s hike into the woods.”

He nods pensively as we begin walking back toward the road. When I think he’s not going to say anything more, he adds, “Why don’t we take a look together?”

“I would love that,” I say without hesitation. But after a moment, a thought crosses my mind. I stop walking and narrow my eyes in suspicion. “Why are you helping me?”

“Because despite how much Colson hates the idea, you do seem like you have good intentions here. And these fires have been so intense that part of me is hoping you’re right just so we have some answers.

” He shrugs. “I know Colson has been resistant toward your theory so far, and I don’t particularly like the sound of it either.

But I’m less stubborn than he is, and if we do find something, he’ll take it better coming from me. ”

“Okay, then. That would be great.”

We continue our walk back to the road, discussing when would be a good time to head over to the other scenes, and I give him a ride back to the station since the crew is gone now.

By the time we make it back, we have a rough plan—because in his job, things could change at any minute—of when to meet.

We exchange numbers, and then without thinking, I lean across the centre console and hug him.

“Thank you,” I tell him. “I was beginning to feel like I was going crazy, looking for something no one believes is there.”

“For what it’s worth, I do still think you’re a little crazy.” He pats me on the back. “But hopefully we can find something.”

I pull away, sending him a smile before he says goodbye and exits my car. As I watch him walk up to the station, a huge sense of relief and appreciation washes over me.

Maybe this isn’t a waste of time, after all.