*23* Battles

*Sam*

“Bill!” I shout over the roar of the fires, “get these people out of the way! We can’t get the trucks back to the pump to refill the tanks!”

Nodding, he pushes the gathered crowd of mostly women and children to one side to give me time to get the truck through, but even I know it’s a futile effort.

As if the high winds are fed by the fire the way it’s fed by them, they’re pushing the flames faster and hotter, and the roaring blaze is gobbling up everything in its path. The best we can hope is to cripple it near the east end of Main, before it gets to the Gothic church built in the 1840s.

The fire chief has a crew with axes taking down the trees lining the church’s small cemetery and they’ve flooded the grounds by emptying the rectory water tank, perched up the hill behind the church to protect it. Still, twice already we’ve had to pull one