The Adventures of Ranger Ramona Ch. 01

"I think your counselors are about ready to go. Just do what they tell you, and everything will be alright. Okay?"

They nodded and a few said thank you as she exited the bus. She could hear them chattering behind her, and they did not sound scared.

The head counselor approached her. "We are ready," she said, "Thanks for talking to them."

"My pleasure," Ramona said. She decided that when things were under control, she would go to the school and let the children know the danger was over.

The counselor got into the driver's seat of the bus and Ramona returned to the jeep and led the little caravan down to the road. She pulled into the middle to block any traffic and stepped out, waving to the bus and the counselor's cars as they turned right and headed toward town. As soon as the last one made the turn, she got back in her jeep and headed toward the fire as fast as she could.

As she drove, the smell of smoke grew stronger and she began to feel a burning sensation in her eyes.

She turned on to the Greenville Road and saw a state police car blocking one lane of the road. A trooper stepped from behind it and held up his hand, gesturing for her to stop, but when she drew near enough that he could see the Ranger Service insignia on her jeep, he stepped aside and waved her through.

A few minutes later, she saw four men step out of the woods. They were covered in soot, and each of them carried a charred, blackened blanket. She did not know their names, but she had seem them around Beartown. As she rolled to a stop, one of them, Mack something, she thought, came to her window.

"You guys alright?" she asked.

He nodded. "We beat it back as far as the creek. Got it out while it was just grass burning, didn't get into the trees."

"Well, that's good," she said. She couldn't believe these men had just beat back a forest fire with nothing more than blankets.

"We ought to get back and join the main crew," he said, "Think you can give us a lift?"

"If you can all fit, sure."

"We are brothers. We used to all sleep in one bed together. We can fit."

Mack went around and got in the front passenger seat, while his three brothers somehow managed to squeeze into the back.

"How bad do you think it is?" Ramona asked. She could see billowing clouds of smoke blowing across the road in front of her. She guessed that they were no more than a mile or so away.

"Not as bad as in fourteen," Mack said.

"Worse than ninetynine though," one of his brothers chimed in.

"Oh, yeah," Mack nodded.

"Think it will jump the road?" Ramona asked, looking for some bit of more useful information.

They were silent for a moment.

"Might," Mack muttered. His brothers all grunted in agreement.

One of the Saw Whet Volunteer Fire Department's two trucks was parked ahead of them. Ramona stopped and they all got out.

"Do you know who's in charge here?" Ramona asked the brothers.

"Actually, I think you are," one of them said.

"Who is in charge of the fire fighters?"

"That would be Jim Paquette, he's the one over there, talking on the radio."

"Okay, thanks." She started to walk away, then turned back, "You guys be careful out there."

"Don't worry about us," Mack said, "Thanks for the lift. Next time you're in Beartown, stop at the Social Lodge, we owe you a beer."

Ramona waved as they headed into the trees, back to the battle. She raised Piney on her radio.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"I'm...well, wherever the first fire truck is. Just got here."

"The kids are all clear?"

"On their way to town."

"Great. Is the chief around?"

"I haven't seen him. Let me check with the fire captain."

She approached Paquette, who greeted her with a nod and held up a finger while he finished his conversation.

"Welcome to the show, ranger," he said at last.

"Thanks. Listen, we haven't been able to get hold of Lieutenant Bebb, have you seen him lately?"

"He was here until about an hour ago."

"Do you know where he went?"

Paquette scratched his head. "Oh. Yes, he said he wanted to check and make sure there weren't no campers up to Riverbend Bluff. Guess he went up there."

"Thanks. So how is it going?"

"Hard tellin', not knowin'," he said, shrugging. "We are on top of it right now. Just hopin' the wind don't shift."

Ramona thanked him again and called Piney.

"The chief went to check out some place called Riverbend Bluff."

"Yeah, that's an unauthorized camp site. Private land, but lots of young folks use it. Makes sense to check it."

"You think I should go see if everything's alright?"

After a moment of silence, Piney said, "I guess you better."

"How do I get there?"

"Go back in the direction you came. Just past Keely Creek, you'll see a dirt road. Well, a two track, really. Runs uphill about a mile to a bluff over the river."

"Okay, I'll check it out."

"Be careful, Ramona, that's a rough road."

"Got it, Piney." She climbed back in the jeep and set out to look for Riverbend Bluff. To her right, she could see the rolling mass of smoke, and it looked nearer and darker than before. She felt a rush of fear when she realized that the sun would go down in an hour or so.

The road to the clandestine campsite was right where Piney said it would be, but he had overstated its quality. It was little more than a pair of tire tracks winding between tangles of puckerbrush. To make matters worse, it rose on a steady, bumpy incline. Thank god for four wheel drive, Ramona thought.

After what she reckoned to be about three quarters of a mile, the road leveled, and skirted close to a steep drop on her left. The vegetation thinned and she emerged into a broad clearing and understood how the location got its name. She was sitting atop a high bluff overlooking a sharp bend in the river. The views were spectacular in both directions. I've got to come up here again, Ramona though. Maybe I'll bring Grant up for a picnic. She was surprised that her first thought had been to bring Grant, and not Aaron.

She saw no sign of the chief having been there, but she got out of the jeep and looked around. The bluff was sparsely vegetated. There were a couple of fire pits and some scattered litter to attest to its use, but it was deserted now.

There were a couple of beer cans on the ground in front of her and she bent down to pick them up. As she did, she saw a set of faint tire tracks in an open patch of ground. She examined them closely, then went to the back of her jeep, squatted down and looked at her own tires. The patterns appeared to match. Lt. Bebb had been there.

She got back in the jeep and tossed the cans in the back seat. She radioed Piney.

"He was up here, but he's gone now. No idea where he went."

"Alright," Piney replied. "Come back down and meet me at the statie's checkpoint. Got a team of rangers on their way up from Baxter going to rendezvous there."

"On my way." She drove out of the clearing and started cautiously down the slope. As she approached the point where it began to drop steeply, she realized that going down would be much more treacherous than driving up had been. She held her foot lightly on the brakes as she began the long decline. Something caught her eye off to her right. She braked and tried to back up, but her wheels spin uselessly.

She put the jeep in park and got out. She saw it again, a glint of light from down in the brush. As soon as she stepped to the edge of the road, she saw the lieutenant's jeep, thirty feet down, It's front end against a maple tree. The driver's door was open.

"Piney, I see his jeep," she shouted into her radio, then realized she hadn't depressed the call button. She tried again, successfully.

"Where is he?" Piney asked.

"He went off the side of the camp road. Don't see him, I'm climbing down now..."

"Alright, Ramona, I'll be there..." As she scrambled down the slope, the radio signal cut out.

"Lieutenant Bebb!" Ramona shouted. "Chief? Can you hear me?"

She heard a grunt in reply, somewhere to her left. She headed that way and saw Wesley Bebb, sitting up with his back against the scattered remains of an old stone wall. He looked up at her with a pained, but relieved expression.

"Thank Christ, Ramona, help me out of here," he said, trying to rise.

"Hold on, chief, are you injured?"

"Leg hurts like a son of a bitch. I cut too close to the friggin' edge up there and went over the side. Don't think I stove up the jeep too much."

Ramona knelt next to him and began examining his left leg.

"I tried to climb up," he said, "because I couldn't get a signal on the radio. Don't know where the bastard is now, it come loose in the fall."

"Yeah, they don't stay on as well as they should, had mine come off a while ago." She looked up the slope. "How far did you fall?"

"I was about half way up, and it felt like something popped in the back of my leg. Went ass over teakettle all the way back down."

Ramona ran her hand down the back of his leg and found a bulge in his calf. He screamed in agony when she touched it.

"Goddamn it Ramona, that hurts like hell."

"Yeah, I can imagine. I think you ruptured your hamstring."

"Well, help me up, for christ's sake."

"I don't think you can walk on it, chief. Why don't you wait until Piney gets here, and we can carry you up."

"I'm not gonna be carried, goddamn it." He struggled to get to his feet. Ramona could see that there was no sense in arguing with him. She put her hands under his arms and helped him up.

"See, not a problem," he said, standing on one foot and swaying to keep his balance.

"So, you going to hop up the hill on the one good foot?" Ramona asked.

"I didn't say I wouldn't take some help," he muttered. He draped his left arm over Ramona's shoulders and, together, they struggled up the slope. When they cleared the top, Ramona felt hot air blowing in her face.

"Jeezum crow," Wesley muttered.

Ramona looked at him. "The wind has shifted," she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Right in our direction. We have to get the fuck out of here," he said, hopping toward the jeep. He stumbled, but Ramona grabbed him and stopped his fall. She helped him into the passenger seat, then got behind the wheel.

"Piney," she called into the radio, "The fire is coming toward us. I've got the chief and we are driving out. Don't try to come up here."

In reply, Piney just said, "Shit."

Black flakes of ash began to fall on the windshield. Ramona put on the wipers, but they just smeared streaks of soot across the glass. Even after she sprayed washer fluid, she could barely see outside the jeep, and nearly hit the black bear, fleeing in terror across the road in front of her. What will happen to all the animals, the little girl had asked her.

"Fuck!" Wesley shouted. Ramona looked up and realized that, as she was squinting at the bear, she had missed the spreading glow in front of her. She slammed on the breaks.


"We can't get through there," the chief said, shaking his head. Ramona put the jeep in reverse and started back up the hill. She could not see her side mirrors through the blackened windows. She opened them and both she and the chief began to cough from the bitter smoke.

Blinded by the smoke and ash, she only made it about twenty yards before she felt a jarring bump and heard a loud, sickening scrape. She opened the door and looked to the back of the jeep. Her left rear wheel had run over a large rock and was suspended two inches about the ground. She tried to rock the jeep free, but all she could do was spin her tires.

"We need to run for it," the chief said.

"You can barely hop."

"Well, wait to you see how fucking fast I can hop."

Ramona came around to the passenger door and helped him down. She wrapped her arm around his waist and looked behind her. Tendrils of flame were swirling from the brush, close enough for her to feel the heat on her face.

"Up to the bluff?" she asked.

"No," Wesley said, "It will run uphill faster than we can, we have to outflank it."

The slope beside the road was gentler than where they had climbed it, but the brush was thick. Brambles caught on their clothes and scratched their hands, and forward progress was slow. The air, at least, was easier to breathe. Ramona tried to raise Piney, Martha, anyone on the radio, but once again, the rough terrain blocked the signal. She fished her cell phone from her pocket, but it could not make a connection either.

"How far do you think we are from the Greenville Road?" Ramona asked Wesley.

"Not more than half a mile, I should think. The question is, how far ahead of the fire do we have to be to get to it."

"Only one way to find out," she said. She kept putting one foot in front of the other, but with each step, the weight of bearing the chief seemed to increase. At one point he tripped, and it took all her strength to keep him on his feet.

They had been moving for fifteen or twenty minutes when they both began to cough again.

"It's getting closer," Wesley wheezed. "I don't think we can get through to the road.

"We have to try to get to the river," Ramona said.

"No other choice."

They changed course, heading north toward the Wiscapasett. It was growing dark under the thick canopy of the forest, and the chief stumbled several times. Each time, Ramona held him up and kept moving forward.

The smoke was thickening, and for a moment, Ramona had the strange feeling that they had walked all night and the dawn was breaking behind them, but when she looked over her shoulders, she saw not a rising sun, but a growing wall of flame. The fire was no longer in the brush, it was spreading through the treetops.

"Oh, fuck," she muttered.

Wesley glanced back. He stopped and grabbed hold of the front of Ramona's shirt.

"Listen, honey." He looked into her eyes. "Go. Run as fast as you can. You won't have any trouble making it to the river."

"No, fuck that," she said, shaking her head. "I won't do it."

"That's an order, ranger."

"No." She pulled at him, forcing him to move forward. He resisted and dropped to his knees, moaning in pain. He looked up at her, tears streaming down his cheeks, tracing lines through smears of soot.

"I've gone as far as I can go, Ramona. Please, run."

Ramona glanced back at the fire, closer now, and felt sparks burn her face. She turned looked ahead of them. She had no idea how much further the river was. She hesitated for a few seconds, then squatted in front of her commander with her back to him, took his wrists, and stood, pulling him to his feet. He leaned against her back and she draped hi arms over her shoulders. She stepped forward, in defiance of his order.

She could barely hold his weight. Pain shot through her back, her knees, her wrists. She found that if she leaned forward, it was little easier. He tried to walk along behind her, but after a few steps, she realized that he was dragging his feet.

"You okay there, chief?" she asked, but got no response. She did not know if he was dead or alive, but she kept moving, even as she felt the temperature rising around her. She could smell her own hair singeing as sparks caught in it. Her shoulders ached, her back throbbed, her hands cramped, but she kept moving.

When the land stopped rising under her feet and began to slope downward, she nearly stumbled. Her steps came a little easier now, and it seemed as if the fire was receding from her back. She had been looking down, watching her footing in the near darkness, so when she raised her head and saw the fast flowing river no more than fifty yards in front of her, she was startled and wondered for a moment if it was an illusion born of her fear and exhaustion.

"Chief, we are going to make it," she said, and for the first time in a while, heard him mutter in response.

She staggered down the bank, and when she reached the river, kept walking until it was above her ankles. She let the chief down, so that he was sitting in the water, then collapsed on to her hands and knees. She dropped her head into the cool water and shook it back and forth, then raised it, scooped up several cold handfuls and gulped them down.

The chief nudged her hip. "Can't stay here," he panted, "Too close. Smoke'll kill us."

"Yeah." Ramona wearily rose to her feet and held out her hands. He took them, and she pulled him upright.

"Shallow here," he said, "We can cross."

Ramona put her arm around his waist and they hobbled out into the river. There were many large boulders in the stream, causing the water to swirl and eddy, and the footing was treacherous. They were halfway across when Wesley's one good foot went out from under him.

As he went under, he pulled Ramona down with him. She flailed in the current and managed to get one hand on the collar of his shirt. The swift flow tugged her forward, but she managed to wedge her feet against a submerged rock and get her other hand under his arm.

Wesley was flopping around in a panic, like a fish on a hook. The pain in Ramona's shoulders was almost unbearable as she fought to keep the current from pulling him from her grip.

"Wesley, goddamn it," she shouted, "You want to pitch in and fucking help?"

Apparently, she got through to him. His movements became purposeful. He managed to roll over and did his best to scramble toward her. She managed to pull him closer and, together, they were able to find a space against a large boulder, where they were out of the current. They sat, in each others arms, and caught their breath.

"God, this water feels good," Wesley muttered.

Ramona looked back toward the south bank. The flames had reached the river's edge. Tall pines burned in towering spirals of bright orange flame. As they watched, they heard a loud cracking sound and watched as one crashed into the river, sending up a cloud of hissing steam.

"We got to get out of the water," Wesley said.

"Think you can make the other bank?"

He nodded. "I reckon the cold water has perked me up."

It took a great effort for Ramona to help him to his feet, but once she had, they managed to wade the rest of the way across without much difficulty.

They sat on the north bank and watched the fire for a while, without speaking. Ramona got out her cell phone, hoping to try again to get a signal, but realized that it wasn't going to work after being submerged in the river. All she got from her radio was a useless clicking noise.

"You didn't think to bring a flashlight, did you?" Wesley asked.

"You're lucky I thought to bring you," she muttered in reply.

"Yeah, about that..." He hesitated and she looked over at his face, glowing in the light of the fire.

"Ramona, I guess I owe you an apology. I ain't treated you like the ranger you are." He paused, then said, "A hell of a ranger."

"Thank you, Wes," she said, in a soft voice. "How's your leg?"

"Hurts."

"I'll bet."

Ramona laid back in the tall grass. Her hands and feet were blistered, and it felt like she had strained every muscle in her body. She had never been so exhausted in her life. She looked up at the sky and her last thought before she lost consciousness was that the smoke had blacked out all the stars.

She awoke as the first light of dawn began to illuminate the charred landscape across the river. Wesley was sitting up beside her.

"Did you sleep at all?" she asked him.

"Fits and starts," he said with a shrug.

Ramona stood and stretched.

"What now?" she asked.

"Now I sit and relax while you take another walk. Without as much baggage this time, though." He gestured over his shoulder. "Just head straight as you can till you hit the Jackman Road. When you find help, send someone for me."

"You sure?"

"You think you can carry me any further?"


"I will if I have to."

He grinned up at her. "You would, wouldn't you?"