into a scraggly ponytail, and soulful gray eyes. Around camp, he usually wore a pair of battered Birkenstock sandals with colorful hiking socks.
"The fire's reached the trail, and everything's burning," he reported. "We decided it was safer to turn around and come back to the lake."
"We're trapped!" added one of the older boys, sounding excited rather than scared.
"Can we go swimming?" asked one of the younger kids, a little girl who was clutching one of the deflated and folded unicorn floats to her chest.
"What do we do now?" asked Camper Susan, one of the other adult chaperones. "What if the fire spreads to here?"
"If we can't get to the trail head, then we all need to stay calm and call for help," Maggie told them, though her heart was pounding.
She looked around. The beautiful little lake was surrounded by steep ridges that were blanketed by thick pine forest on their lower slopes, which thinned out to a sparse cover of bushes and grass before petering out well below the jagged, stony spires that crowned the ridges.
The north end of the valley narrowed before ending in cliffs with a spectacular waterfall that fed the lake. Maggie had hiked there yesterday to swim in the crystal-clear icy waters while the kids had been occupied in learning how to weave baskets from pine needles.
Right now, though, the waterfall was hidden from view by an impenetrable blanket of dark brown smoke trapped in the bowl-like valley.
The valley opened up on the south side of the lake, which was where the trail head, parking lot, and highway access were located. It was the only way out that didn't require mountain-climbing gear.
Camper Bob pulled out his phone and punched in a number. "Shit," he muttered.
A tinge of panic clouded his eyes, though his tone remained calm as he looked at her and the other three adult camp leaders. "I can't get any reception. Anyone?"
Maggie pulled out her phone. So did the others.
No luck. She looked up at the burning ridge. The fire must have taken out a cell tower.
"We're all going to die!" Camper Bob exclaimed.
"Shh," Camper Susan and her wife, Camper Kathy, both said simultaneously.
Kathy added, "There's no need to scare the kids. Maybe the fire won't come this way."
"What should we do?" Camper Bob asked.
"I vote that we get our butts back to the campground," Susan said bluntly. "At least we'll be away from the trees and the lake's right there, in case things get really bad."
"But—" Bob began.
"I agree," Maggie interrupted. She added, "I was a volunteer firefighter back home. Right now, we need to find a place that won't burn and where Forest Service planes will be able to spot us. With a fire of this size, they're going to be sending in air tankers for sure."
She decided she didn't need to tell them that it had been fifteen years since she'd worked as a firefighter. Once she'd left the small shifter community of Bearpaw Ridge, Idaho, and moved to San Francisco, there hadn't been any need, since the city had a professional fire department.
"What makes you so sure that there'll be any airplanes looking for us?" Bob asked.
Maggie pointed back towards the campground. "That's the only lake for miles around. If the Forest Service deploys helicopter air tankers, they'll come here to fill up. If we're at the campground, they'll be able to see us and radio for evac."
Everyone looked relieved.
"Okay, that makes sense," Bob declared.
Maggie turned and led the way. The afternoon had now grown so dark that the adult campers pulled out their flashlights as they followed her back to the campground. A steady drizzle of ash caught the beams, swirling in the light like a cloud of tiny moths.
Her eyes and throat were burning with the smoke, and everyone around her was coughing.
When they finally broke out of the cover of the trees and arrived back at the lakeshore, there was a general rush towards the water. There, Maggie helped the four adults with wetting down bandannas and spare t-shirts, and showed the kids how to use the damp cloth to cover their mouths and noses.
As she crouched on one of the boulders at the lake's edge, dipping a bandanna into the water, Maggie noticed that the valley and mountain slopes on the other side of the lake were untouched by fire. It would be safer if they could wait over there for a passing plane or helicopter.
Unfortunately, what looked like a mile of water separated Maggie and