Numb3rs Fic: Wildfire, Chapter Two/6
Title: Wildfire
Author: ALEO
Genre: Gen
Characters: Don Eppes, Megan Reeves, Alan Eppes, Charlie Eppes
Rating: PG 13+
Warning: drug references
Spoilers: nil
Summary: Even a simple assignment for another agency can have unexpected complications.
Status: Chapter 2 of 6
Wordcount (this chapter): 2415
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.
CHAPTER TWO
The trail was easy to follow, a scuff mark here, a broken branch there. Plus the path seemed to be slightly worn as if it had been used on a semi regular basis. They made their way quickly down the trail into the narrow valley clambering down over some rocks along the way. After a bit of a ravine area it widened out and became less steep. The ravine had been almost clear of brush but the trees and bushes were thickening again. All too quickly time was up.
Don stopped suddenly. He waited and it came again. “Do you hear that?”
Megan cocked her head and listened. “A chainsaw?”
That’s what he had thought it was too. Someone must be out there trying to cut a firebreak. “Call the Sheriff. We’re not turning back now, we’re too close.”
“FBI to firebase.” Megan waited but received no response but a hiss of static that hadn’t been there before. “FBI to firebase.”
“No reception in here, or else the fire’s interfering with the signal.” Don decided. He took off at a jog followed by his partner.
The intermittent sounds of the chainsaw became louder. Following the faint trail they were suddenly confronted by some camouflage netting. Don reached out and touched the net as if to confirm that what he was seeing was real. He turned to Megan who also looked puzzled. The net stretched across the narrow valley. Don tried to peer through the double layer of netting but could only see a tinge of bright green. The chainsaw sounds continued from the opposite side. Don pointed to his right as he started to the left. They would come around from opposite sides.
As he followed the netting he saw that it was shaped in a rough square. It also extended over the top of the contained area, held up by ropes that disappeared into the trees. Obviously something that someone was trying to hide from aerial surveillance. A tickle in his nose bought to him by the hot, stiffening breeze confirmed his suspicions. It was a mixed in with the smoke from the fire but the acrid smell of Cannabis sativa was unmistakeable. It was a drug crop and though relatively small it was obviously well looked after. By the sounds of things there was a crop sitter trying to protect it from the fire. A bit late for that, Don thought.
Abruptly the chainsaw started up a very short distance away. Don slowed and approached cautiously. Too cautiously. He was concentrating on what was in front of him not what was above him. There was a sharp report. He started to turn but the weight of the backpack threw him off balance and a moment later something heavy forced him to the ground. There was a second sickening crack. It was following by an excruciating, burning sensation in his lower right leg that caused him to cry out.
Don was next aware that he was trapped in something. Trying to struggle he was hampered once again by the pack on his back. Something briefly tugged at his waist. Don’s awareness cleared to find that he was tangled up amongst tree branches. With a degree of disbelief he realised that a tree had fallen on him. He also realised that he couldn’t move his legs as they were trapped under heavy branches. With his right leg feeling like it was white hot he started desperately trying to free himself.
“Hold still.”
Turning his head Don located the source of the voice. A man was beside him and had started tugging away at the branches to help dig him out. He wore a bandanna around his lower face to filter the smoke and had on heavy clothing. All Don could see of his rescuer was sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. The man reached to one side after a few seconds and lifted up a chainsaw.
“I’ll have to cut some of these branches, alright?”
Don nodded. It was the quickest way to get free. His leg from the knee down was throbbing in time with his heartbeat, a sharp pain stabbing pain that did not bode well. The slightest movement sent daggers up to his lower back. He lay as still as he could whilst the chainsaw was brought to bear. The man was adept with the machine and after a few swift cuts the biggest branches from across the agent’s legs were cut away.
“Freeze!”
Two heads snapped towards the sound. Don saw Megan standing about ten yards away, weapon extended and aimed at the man.
“Drop the gun.” Megan ordered.
Gun, what gun? Don thought. Some FBI agent he was not noticing that the man was armed. He looked back up at the man and saw him pull a handgun from the back of his waistband. It was a Glock. No. The agent reached for his holster to have his fears confirmed, it was empty. The flare of panic that engendered burnt away the darkness that had been forming at the edge of his sight. That explained the tug on his waist. He had assumed it was his holster getting caught up on a branch as he’d struggled earlier. He again tried to pull himself out but only succeeded in generating multi-coloured spots in his eyes as his leg emphatically protested the movement. He had to stop, gasping for breath through the pain.
“Who are you?” The man demanded.
“FBI.” Megan answered. “Drop the gun and move away from my partner.”
“We don’t have time for this. Your partner’s trapped. I’m trying to get him free. I think he’s hurt as well.” He kept Don’s gun up and aimed back at Megan.
“Don, are you alright? Did he hurt you?”
“The tree fell on me.” Don forced the words out. He tried to be dispassionate but his next words sent a thrill of fear through him, given the circumstances it could be a death sentence. “I think my leg’s broken.”
“He needs our help to get free.” The man reasoned.
“Drop the gun and step away.” Megan insisted.
“He’s trapped and he can’t walk. The fire is too close.” The man said. “Put your gun down and come help me help him.”
Megan hesitated. Everything he said was true. There had been a sudden rush of hot wind and there were now some embers flying through the air. The fire front was approaching quicker than had been predicted. The Sheriff had been right when he’d said conditions were deteriorating. They were in serious trouble.
The man glanced quickly down at the trapped agent and directed his next words to him. “I don’t want to kill anyone. I’ve got somewhere we can hole up away from the fire. I just don’t want to go to jail. Tell her to put her gun down.”
It took the agent a moment to process the words, he was finding it harder to concentrate and stay awake. Don gave himself a mental shake and tried. He noted that the man kept his gun aimed back at Megan and had not threatened him in any way. In fact he had immediately rendered aid once the tree had landed on him. He’d apparently not been armed himself but had taken Don’s gun upon locating it without being aware of whom or what he was. He lazily watched a red ember fly past overhead before realising he was starting to zone out again.
“Up to you, Megan. Whatever you do, do it now.” Don managed. After a moment he added: “I think he means well.”
It was the closest Don would go to following the man’s request. He would not order his partner to drop her gun. They both knew the statistics on LEOs who surrendered their weapons. 90% of them were subsequently shot with their own guns. It was already too late for Don if that was what the man intended, which he realised he actually doubted, hence his addendum. Megan was still armed, could still defend herself. If she decided to take the man on Don was in no position to help, the man was standing just out of his reach. It was also more than likely that he would pass out from the pain first. She was on her own.
But the man was right. There was no time for this if he wasn’t going to end up toast. He was still trapped and without the chainsaw it was unlikely he could be freed in time. The only problem was it was getting harder to care as the dark spots took over more of his vision.
Megan released her stance. She straightened from the semi-crouch and lowered her gun. “We help him.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do.” The man repeated.
She glanced down at the weapon in her hand then back at her partner lying amongst the tree branches. Final decision made she tossed the weapon aside. The man stepped away from Don and towards the discarded weapon. Megan moved forward cautiously and the end result was a slow circling as Megan approached Don and the man approached the gun. She didn’t miss the fact that the man had lowered his gun now that the threat from her had gone.
“Let me look.” Megan leant over her boss seeing his pale face and knowing he was hanging on to consciousness by a thread. She gently ran her hands down his legs feeling for injuries. She reached where the final section of tree trunk lay across his right leg and peered underneath. She winced, the angle his leg was twisted just above the ankle meant it was definitely broken.
“Bad?”
She nodded. It was a very bad break. “Yeah. Sorry boss.”
“Whatever happens, be careful.” Don managed. He was out of action, helpless and reliant on the man’s good intentions. The last thing he wanted was for Megan to die because he couldn’t help her.
Megan squeezed his shoulder briefly then looked back up.
“You’ll need to move away so I can cut the tree.” The man had returned and was holding the chainsaw once again. He was keeping his word.
Megan moved around so that she was on the opposite side of Don and took his hand so he could squeeze it to help with the pain. As the man fired the chainsaw up and bent to start cutting the she noted that both guns were now tucked into the rear of his waistband. Normally she would be working on negotiating with the man to get him to surrender. But given Don’s situation, the proximity of the fire and the man’s apparent determination to actually help she let it go for now. Without realising it she repeated Don’s earlier thoughts, if she tried anything she was by herself and she couldn’t see the advantage to either herself or to Don to make the attempt. They needed this man’s help.
After the first cut the top section of the tree dropped away, a minute later and the second cut was finished. The man put the machine down and lifted the remaining piece of tree away. Don gasped and his hand tightened at the sudden release in pressure. Abruptly his hand fell limp. Megan turned in alarm to find that he’d passed out. She laid her fingers on his neck and checked the strong, steady pulse.
The man grabbed two short sections of a small branch and laid them either side of Don’s lower right leg. He pulled his belt from his jeans and carefully fed one end of the leather under Don’s leg and the two branches. He was making a splint. He reached for the unconscious agent’s belt next. His hand touched Don’s badge and he hesitated, raising his eyes to hers. Megan reached out and pulled the badge away, followed by Don’s empty holster. The man continued and soon had the second belt positioned.
“He still out?”
“Yes.” Megan slid Don’s badge into her pocket but kept her grip on his hand.
The man carefully pulled then straightened the twisted leg before doing up the belts to hold the limb in place. As he finished up Don started to come around. “We have to move, can you wake him up?”
A hot wind ruffled her hair as she gently slapped her boss on the face. “C’mon Don, c’mon.” It was working but too slowly. She remembered the water and quickly unzipped the pack he was still wearing and pulled out a bottle. Opening it up she sprinkled a small amount of moisture on his face. A few more slightly firmer slaps and he opened his eyes. “There you are.”
“Yeah.” He agreed weakly. “Did my foot fall off?” That’s what it had felt like, what it still felt like.
“Still attached and splinted.” It had nearly turned her stomach to watch.
The man had finished kicking parts of the tree aside. “We need to go that way, there is a cave we can shelter in. It’s not far. You grab his other arm and we’ll get him up.” He turned to face Don. “You ready?”
Don managed a curt nod. This was not going to be fun.
“You have to stay awake.” The man added.
“I’ll try.” He clamped his teeth together as his arms were taken and he was pulled up. The world went a bright shade of red then threatened to go black again as the change in attitude meant a fresh flow of blood to his injured leg. Each and every heartbeat was magnified. His right hand tightened on Megan’s and the answering squeeze helped him to fight off the darkness.
“You okay?” Megan asked.
“Still… here.” He managed to gasp out.
A quick readjustment and Don’s arms were over his helper’s shoulders. Living crutches in place they started moving. Don managed to keep his right leg off the ground and tried to help by putting some weight on his left. The jarring as they progressed threatened with each step to make him pass out again. He didn’t know how he did it but he managed to stay awake, or at least semi-aware. He concentrated on the ground in front of him, it had started to blur but he was aware that it had turned to stone. Some awkward manoeuvring followed then there was an explosion of pain in his right leg as he jarred it on a rock.
Next chapter - here
Author: ALEO
Genre: Gen
Characters: Don Eppes, Megan Reeves, Alan Eppes, Charlie Eppes
Rating: PG 13+
Warning: drug references
Spoilers: nil
Summary: Even a simple assignment for another agency can have unexpected complications.
Status: Chapter 2 of 6
Wordcount (this chapter): 2415
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however.
CHAPTER TWO
The trail was easy to follow, a scuff mark here, a broken branch there. Plus the path seemed to be slightly worn as if it had been used on a semi regular basis. They made their way quickly down the trail into the narrow valley clambering down over some rocks along the way. After a bit of a ravine area it widened out and became less steep. The ravine had been almost clear of brush but the trees and bushes were thickening again. All too quickly time was up.
Don stopped suddenly. He waited and it came again. “Do you hear that?”
Megan cocked her head and listened. “A chainsaw?”
That’s what he had thought it was too. Someone must be out there trying to cut a firebreak. “Call the Sheriff. We’re not turning back now, we’re too close.”
“FBI to firebase.” Megan waited but received no response but a hiss of static that hadn’t been there before. “FBI to firebase.”
“No reception in here, or else the fire’s interfering with the signal.” Don decided. He took off at a jog followed by his partner.
The intermittent sounds of the chainsaw became louder. Following the faint trail they were suddenly confronted by some camouflage netting. Don reached out and touched the net as if to confirm that what he was seeing was real. He turned to Megan who also looked puzzled. The net stretched across the narrow valley. Don tried to peer through the double layer of netting but could only see a tinge of bright green. The chainsaw sounds continued from the opposite side. Don pointed to his right as he started to the left. They would come around from opposite sides.
As he followed the netting he saw that it was shaped in a rough square. It also extended over the top of the contained area, held up by ropes that disappeared into the trees. Obviously something that someone was trying to hide from aerial surveillance. A tickle in his nose bought to him by the hot, stiffening breeze confirmed his suspicions. It was a mixed in with the smoke from the fire but the acrid smell of Cannabis sativa was unmistakeable. It was a drug crop and though relatively small it was obviously well looked after. By the sounds of things there was a crop sitter trying to protect it from the fire. A bit late for that, Don thought.
Abruptly the chainsaw started up a very short distance away. Don slowed and approached cautiously. Too cautiously. He was concentrating on what was in front of him not what was above him. There was a sharp report. He started to turn but the weight of the backpack threw him off balance and a moment later something heavy forced him to the ground. There was a second sickening crack. It was following by an excruciating, burning sensation in his lower right leg that caused him to cry out.
Don was next aware that he was trapped in something. Trying to struggle he was hampered once again by the pack on his back. Something briefly tugged at his waist. Don’s awareness cleared to find that he was tangled up amongst tree branches. With a degree of disbelief he realised that a tree had fallen on him. He also realised that he couldn’t move his legs as they were trapped under heavy branches. With his right leg feeling like it was white hot he started desperately trying to free himself.
“Hold still.”
Turning his head Don located the source of the voice. A man was beside him and had started tugging away at the branches to help dig him out. He wore a bandanna around his lower face to filter the smoke and had on heavy clothing. All Don could see of his rescuer was sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. The man reached to one side after a few seconds and lifted up a chainsaw.
“I’ll have to cut some of these branches, alright?”
Don nodded. It was the quickest way to get free. His leg from the knee down was throbbing in time with his heartbeat, a sharp pain stabbing pain that did not bode well. The slightest movement sent daggers up to his lower back. He lay as still as he could whilst the chainsaw was brought to bear. The man was adept with the machine and after a few swift cuts the biggest branches from across the agent’s legs were cut away.
“Freeze!”
Two heads snapped towards the sound. Don saw Megan standing about ten yards away, weapon extended and aimed at the man.
“Drop the gun.” Megan ordered.
Gun, what gun? Don thought. Some FBI agent he was not noticing that the man was armed. He looked back up at the man and saw him pull a handgun from the back of his waistband. It was a Glock. No. The agent reached for his holster to have his fears confirmed, it was empty. The flare of panic that engendered burnt away the darkness that had been forming at the edge of his sight. That explained the tug on his waist. He had assumed it was his holster getting caught up on a branch as he’d struggled earlier. He again tried to pull himself out but only succeeded in generating multi-coloured spots in his eyes as his leg emphatically protested the movement. He had to stop, gasping for breath through the pain.
“Who are you?” The man demanded.
“FBI.” Megan answered. “Drop the gun and move away from my partner.”
“We don’t have time for this. Your partner’s trapped. I’m trying to get him free. I think he’s hurt as well.” He kept Don’s gun up and aimed back at Megan.
“Don, are you alright? Did he hurt you?”
“The tree fell on me.” Don forced the words out. He tried to be dispassionate but his next words sent a thrill of fear through him, given the circumstances it could be a death sentence. “I think my leg’s broken.”
“He needs our help to get free.” The man reasoned.
“Drop the gun and step away.” Megan insisted.
“He’s trapped and he can’t walk. The fire is too close.” The man said. “Put your gun down and come help me help him.”
Megan hesitated. Everything he said was true. There had been a sudden rush of hot wind and there were now some embers flying through the air. The fire front was approaching quicker than had been predicted. The Sheriff had been right when he’d said conditions were deteriorating. They were in serious trouble.
The man glanced quickly down at the trapped agent and directed his next words to him. “I don’t want to kill anyone. I’ve got somewhere we can hole up away from the fire. I just don’t want to go to jail. Tell her to put her gun down.”
It took the agent a moment to process the words, he was finding it harder to concentrate and stay awake. Don gave himself a mental shake and tried. He noted that the man kept his gun aimed back at Megan and had not threatened him in any way. In fact he had immediately rendered aid once the tree had landed on him. He’d apparently not been armed himself but had taken Don’s gun upon locating it without being aware of whom or what he was. He lazily watched a red ember fly past overhead before realising he was starting to zone out again.
“Up to you, Megan. Whatever you do, do it now.” Don managed. After a moment he added: “I think he means well.”
It was the closest Don would go to following the man’s request. He would not order his partner to drop her gun. They both knew the statistics on LEOs who surrendered their weapons. 90% of them were subsequently shot with their own guns. It was already too late for Don if that was what the man intended, which he realised he actually doubted, hence his addendum. Megan was still armed, could still defend herself. If she decided to take the man on Don was in no position to help, the man was standing just out of his reach. It was also more than likely that he would pass out from the pain first. She was on her own.
But the man was right. There was no time for this if he wasn’t going to end up toast. He was still trapped and without the chainsaw it was unlikely he could be freed in time. The only problem was it was getting harder to care as the dark spots took over more of his vision.
Megan released her stance. She straightened from the semi-crouch and lowered her gun. “We help him.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do.” The man repeated.
She glanced down at the weapon in her hand then back at her partner lying amongst the tree branches. Final decision made she tossed the weapon aside. The man stepped away from Don and towards the discarded weapon. Megan moved forward cautiously and the end result was a slow circling as Megan approached Don and the man approached the gun. She didn’t miss the fact that the man had lowered his gun now that the threat from her had gone.
“Let me look.” Megan leant over her boss seeing his pale face and knowing he was hanging on to consciousness by a thread. She gently ran her hands down his legs feeling for injuries. She reached where the final section of tree trunk lay across his right leg and peered underneath. She winced, the angle his leg was twisted just above the ankle meant it was definitely broken.
“Bad?”
She nodded. It was a very bad break. “Yeah. Sorry boss.”
“Whatever happens, be careful.” Don managed. He was out of action, helpless and reliant on the man’s good intentions. The last thing he wanted was for Megan to die because he couldn’t help her.
Megan squeezed his shoulder briefly then looked back up.
“You’ll need to move away so I can cut the tree.” The man had returned and was holding the chainsaw once again. He was keeping his word.
Megan moved around so that she was on the opposite side of Don and took his hand so he could squeeze it to help with the pain. As the man fired the chainsaw up and bent to start cutting the she noted that both guns were now tucked into the rear of his waistband. Normally she would be working on negotiating with the man to get him to surrender. But given Don’s situation, the proximity of the fire and the man’s apparent determination to actually help she let it go for now. Without realising it she repeated Don’s earlier thoughts, if she tried anything she was by herself and she couldn’t see the advantage to either herself or to Don to make the attempt. They needed this man’s help.
After the first cut the top section of the tree dropped away, a minute later and the second cut was finished. The man put the machine down and lifted the remaining piece of tree away. Don gasped and his hand tightened at the sudden release in pressure. Abruptly his hand fell limp. Megan turned in alarm to find that he’d passed out. She laid her fingers on his neck and checked the strong, steady pulse.
The man grabbed two short sections of a small branch and laid them either side of Don’s lower right leg. He pulled his belt from his jeans and carefully fed one end of the leather under Don’s leg and the two branches. He was making a splint. He reached for the unconscious agent’s belt next. His hand touched Don’s badge and he hesitated, raising his eyes to hers. Megan reached out and pulled the badge away, followed by Don’s empty holster. The man continued and soon had the second belt positioned.
“He still out?”
“Yes.” Megan slid Don’s badge into her pocket but kept her grip on his hand.
The man carefully pulled then straightened the twisted leg before doing up the belts to hold the limb in place. As he finished up Don started to come around. “We have to move, can you wake him up?”
A hot wind ruffled her hair as she gently slapped her boss on the face. “C’mon Don, c’mon.” It was working but too slowly. She remembered the water and quickly unzipped the pack he was still wearing and pulled out a bottle. Opening it up she sprinkled a small amount of moisture on his face. A few more slightly firmer slaps and he opened his eyes. “There you are.”
“Yeah.” He agreed weakly. “Did my foot fall off?” That’s what it had felt like, what it still felt like.
“Still attached and splinted.” It had nearly turned her stomach to watch.
The man had finished kicking parts of the tree aside. “We need to go that way, there is a cave we can shelter in. It’s not far. You grab his other arm and we’ll get him up.” He turned to face Don. “You ready?”
Don managed a curt nod. This was not going to be fun.
“You have to stay awake.” The man added.
“I’ll try.” He clamped his teeth together as his arms were taken and he was pulled up. The world went a bright shade of red then threatened to go black again as the change in attitude meant a fresh flow of blood to his injured leg. Each and every heartbeat was magnified. His right hand tightened on Megan’s and the answering squeeze helped him to fight off the darkness.
“You okay?” Megan asked.
“Still… here.” He managed to gasp out.
A quick readjustment and Don’s arms were over his helper’s shoulders. Living crutches in place they started moving. Don managed to keep his right leg off the ground and tried to help by putting some weight on his left. The jarring as they progressed threatened with each step to make him pass out again. He didn’t know how he did it but he managed to stay awake, or at least semi-aware. He concentrated on the ground in front of him, it had started to blur but he was aware that it had turned to stone. Some awkward manoeuvring followed then there was an explosion of pain in his right leg as he jarred it on a rock.
Next chapter - here