1
Just as some days are hotter than others, some fires are hotter than others. And the Checker Mill Fire was a scorcher.
Tori Ellison checked her watch but couldn’t see it. Even shining her helmet headlamp on it didn’t really help. Her eyes were lack-of-sleep sore and they stung from smoke and salty sweat. She couldn’t taste anything but that salt and the char that it collected as it dribbled down her face; the peanut and dark chocolate flavor of her energy bar hadn’t lasted more than a few minutes before being overwhelmed.
She’d volunteered to scout what lay over the next ridge while the rest of her Hotshot fire crew crashed out for an hour. She was supposed to go ten minutes out and ten back, but couldn’t seem to focus on the watch to tell how long she’d been gone. Three minutes? Fift
