Off Season by Eric Walters Page A

big blue plastic box, snap the lid shut and then
bury
it. She said that even if the fire passed this way it wouldstill survive.
    Ned was looking back in the direction we’d just come from. I turned around and was shocked by the sight. The whole sky was now black with smoke.
    â€œIt’s moving fast, isn’t it?” I said, although I was less asking a question than stating the obvious.
    â€œFast.”
    â€œAre we moving faster than it?”
    He shook his head. “I don’t know … I can’t tell.”
    â€œThen maybe we better get moving again.” I stood up and Ned got to his feet too.
    â€œLift on three,” Ned said.
    I grabbed one branch and he grabbed the second.
    â€œOne … two … and three.”
    I strained under the weight but we lifted Debbie off the ground. We started moving again.
    â€œYou want to trade?” Kia said. “Maybe in a while,” I replied.
    â€œI feel so bad,” Debbie said. “Maybe I could get up and limp along for a while again.”
    â€œYou just stay right there!” Kia warned her. “We can move faster this way.”
    Debbie had tried to walk before and we had actually moved
slower
.
    â€œWe’ll get there,” I said, more to myself than Debbie. It was hard, and she was heavy, but somehow having a fire coming up through the forest behind gave me a burst of energy.
    We set the sling down for the last time under the tree that held one of the nets. The last part of the trip, through the berry bushes, had been downhill, so the going had been a little bit easier.
    There was now more than just the smell of smoke; there was a faint haze that hovered in the air.
    â€œI need something to drink,” Kia said. She’d placed the three cages in the middle of the court.
    We walked over to the little creek. The court still looked good, though the corner beside the creek had been further eroded by the rush of water during the storm. The creek had receded somewhat, but it was still much higher than normal. I stopped at the water’s edge, bent down and cupped my hands to get a drink. The water was freezing cold and delicious as it slid down my throat. I didn’t think I’d ever tasted anything as good.
    Kia waded into the water. She stopped when it was knee-deep on her. That looked like a good idea. I stepped in and the cold, clearwater surrounded me. I splashed the water up onto my face and arms.
    I looked back at the scene. Ned was sitting beside his mother at the edge of the court. Behind them, the hill sloping up was filled with small bushes. Behind that, the sky was dark, filled with thick black clouds of smoke rising up out of the trees. I looked over my shoulder. Beyond the creek the cliff was steep and rocky and covered with moss and grass and shrubs and stunted trees. There wasn’t much to burn, so the cliff protected us from that direction. Protected us and trapped us.
    â€œYou scared?” Kia asked.
    â€œWhat do you think?”
    â€œMe too,” she said. “I guess there’s nothing to do but wait.”
    â€œI hate waiting. I just hate it!” I snapped.
    â€œI know,” she said, nodding her head. “You always want to get the game started.”
    I scoffed. “The game … think about all the times we’ve stood on the sidelines of a basketball court, about all the games we’ve played and how important we thought they were. How we’d spend all that time thinking about the game, worrying, losing sleep — ”
    â€œHow
you’d
lose sleep,” Kia said, cutting me off.
    â€œFine, how
I’d
lose sleep,” I agreed. Kia could always sleep. “But you can’t tell me that you didn’t think that whatever game we were getting ready to play was the most important thing in the world.”
    She shrugged, but didn’t disagree.
    â€œAnd I think about how crucial every shot seemed. Do or
die
plays. Sudden
death
overtime.