The Burn Scars and First Sight
Inhaling sharply, my eyes snapped open, and I bolted upright in the cab of my truck. My chest numbs after having one of the recurring nightmares that’d been taunting me since childhood. I sighed slowly as I rubbed at the sleep in my eyes and glanced sideways at my watch, squinting to check the time and fumbling for my phone that was vibrating somewhere on the dash.
I missed my bed. I missed the buttery, soft down comforter and the smooth sheets. I was definitely ready for a glass of my favorite red and a good movie. I even missed that dumb alarm clock that Ethan bought me to wake me up gently using light.
Cracking my neck from side to side, I did my best to stretch in the confined space. It was the final day out in the wilderness. Back to civilization and away from the peace and quiet of the forest.
Hopping out, I stepped through the darkness of the predawn morning. Streaks of sunlight were slowly beginning to rise over the foothills and penetrate the morning haze. I closed the door and caught sight of myself in the reflection of the glass. I wasn’t winning any beauty contests, but I always liked my vivid green eyes. I had narrow features, delicate lips that were always a shade of muted red wine, and dark chocolate hair that could pass for black in low-light settings. It framed the ivory skin of my face and fell in thick waves around my shoulders. I was that not- too- short- but- not- tall- enough- to- be- a- model height where no clothes ever fit quite right.
I tiredly pulled my hair into a pony tail and tugged on my thick boots. Jeans and plain white tees pretty much summed up the entirety of my pitiful wardrobe. It was chillier than usual for early May, so I threw on my corduroy jacket and trudged to the edge of the place my campfire had been the night before.
Plucking the silver canister from the ground, I grumbled when I realized I was out of coffee.
“Lovely,” I muttered.
My long-range walkie-talkie chirped to life. I left it on the hood of the truck so I could get some sleep last night.
“Breaker- breaker 1-9. It’s Blond Panther. Do you come in, Fat Rabbit?” August’s voice came in loudly over the speaker.
I grabbed the radio. “Don’t call me Fat Rabbit. I thought we were out of the trucker phase?” I called back.
“No, we’re not. Over.” She laughed as she let go of the button.
“What’s up?” I asked, slightly irritated.
“Calm down, grumpy. I just wanted to say that I’ll be heading to the rendezvous point soon. Over. Ya whiny bi —” She let go of the transmitter.
“Heard that.”
This would be my second year working my dream job as a conservation scientist for a private land owner in the state of Colorado. I loved everything about it. The mountain air and the forests made me feel right at home here.
I inhaled an incredible mix of strong pine, fresh water, and soft grasses.
Darkness still shrouded the service road down the hill. The little light that did break over the horizon burned indigo against the snow-capped peaks.
“You could have answered me last night. You know, I would have filed a missing person report by now if I wouldn’t be a prime suspect in the disappearance.” She burped into the walkie purposefully.
“Apparently you’re still digesting last night’s plans.” I tossed items into the bed of the truck.
“Lily! Gaming is serious! Those are real people who depend on me. At least I’m not going on fake dates with my bed.” I heard her honk the horn of her Jeep angrily. “Nice hair, by the way. I assume you’ve taken the time to do your ponytail look,” she chided. “I will see you in fifteen!”
“I’m at least twenty-five away,” I chimed.
“Twenty sounds good! See ya then.”
The walkie chirped off. I glanced at my watch. I still had time.
I shoved the final items across the backseat floorboards and quickly slipped on my backpack. If I jogged, I could get up there and back before I had to meet her.
I instinctually knew the way there. I set off at a quickened pace. When I saw the outcropping of boulders, I ducked under and rounded to the left. There were no trails here. This was memory I was working from.
Even in the dim of morning light, I could see it ahead. I broke past the tree line and emerged into an opening. It was large and if someone without my background had found it first, they would think they had discovered a lovely meadow. But upon closer inspection, I learned it was so much more.
Perfectly round when I had measured it crudely and roughly a thousand paces across. But that aside was not what had drawn my attention. I sprinted over to one of the large stumps about twenty yards to my right.
Charred.
Clicking on my miners light to see better, my fingertips grazed the burnt bark. I pulled out my phone and began snapping photos. Every twenty feet or so edging the periphery of the space were these damaged trees. Petrified in a perfectly even circle. I found it last fall and couldn’t stop myself from stealing away to it every time I was in the area.
I had seen something similar when we studied the effects of radiation and shelling during war time in college and what it did to local forestry. The trees absorbed it like a memory.
But there were two problems with that theory. Explosives of that caliber had never been experienced in the region. Colorado hadn’t seen war on that scale and other trees in the area would’ve been affected if it had. But no matter how far I trekked, this was a singular anomaly. A big one. There would be a smattering of similar instances if that idea held water.
The larger problem —and the reason I had kept this discovery a secret —the event that created this blast radius, according to the tree rings, predated the known history of explosives by thousands of years. Far before humans had managed to weaponize anything of this caliber.
This led me down a rabbit hole of searching for natural disasters, but nothing explained what I was seeing here. It simply didn’t make sense.
I was eerily drawn to the place after initially finding it. I couldn’t explain it other than a feeling that I was supposed to be here.
My watch rang out that I needed to go, I clicked off the timer and turned to leave. But not before turning back to snap one final photo of the space as the morning light began to illuminate it.
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I passed through a valley with trees that lined one side of the pavement. I drove not a mile longer before spotting August.
She sat on the lowered tailgate of her royal blue Jeep, large wheels looming at its base, her gourmet coffee probably half gone by now.
At first glance, you’d notice her short, lithe stature. She was capped by blond waves that always looked wild and sultry, even when imprisoned by the hurry- up- you’re- late ponytail. Unfairly turquoise eyes and hot pink polish graced her nails, pulling you in with her ruffles and pearls until she opened her mouth to let loose a cannonade of curses.
I met August freshman year of college at Colorado State University. We were assigned to be roommates in the dorms.
“Are you her?” the tiny blond asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I’m her,” I shrugged. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but a miniature Barbie that the makers of Mattel surely modeled the original after was not it. She smelled like flowers and her outfit had two random girls casually commenting on it in the span of fifteen minutes while walking past.
I wasn’t sure what I had expected. A hipster who crocheted her own hats and made slippers out of felt? Someone who possibly had way too much macrame and listened to indie music that smelled like vegan cheese? Forestry wasn’t exactly a major the future trophy wives of America were clamoring to get into.
“I’m August.” She grinned her signature sparkling smile and stuck out her tiny, manicured hand for me to shake. “I hate the smell of Cheetos, I snore when I’m drunk, and if you ever need a study buddy, I make amazing flash cards!”
“I’m Lily.” I half smiled and reached out to shake her dainty palm. “I’m told I should smile more, I snore when I drink whiskey, and I’m the reigning Cheeto-eating champion in Hamilton County two years running. Looks like this is gonna be a tough year for the both of us.”
We laughed.
August was a great friend for me to have. I never made them, and she always did. August knew, talked to, and liked everyone. She was voted “most congenial and confident” in our freshman and sophomore dorms, and she was impossible not to laugh with. She hardly took anything seriously, was willing to try anything once (as long as it didn’t involve butterflies), was wildly quick-witted, and was that girl you wanted to know at the party.
If she hadn’t adopted me as her token introverted friend, I might never have had the full college experience she bestowed upon me.
Looking back now, I still smiled. She’d grown up in Washington, the youngest of seven and the only girl, working as a logger alongside her father and brothers. The family I never had. When she had learned I had a vaguely distant mother who I never spoke to back home in Vermont, a father who passed away when I was little, and no siblings, I became the sister she always wanted.
We went home to Washington every few months and I had actively spent every holiday, vacation, and event there for nearly seven years now.
She was, as best I could describe, a conqueror, fearless in every situation except one.
Butterflies. She claimed they flew too erratically for them to be trusted creatures.
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I coasted in behind the small silver trailer attached to her Jeep and hopped out.
“I thought we talked about that shirt.” She pulled in a deep swig of her coffee.
“I thought we talked about using so much concealer the morning after a rough night.”
“Hardy har. That’s it.” She threw her hands up. “You’re my friend on a probationary period today. I’m going to need you to prove yourself by giving me the day off.” Reaching into the cab, she pulled out her tool belt.
“Alright, fine. Get out of here,” I replied with a sigh.
“Really?” She smiled with excitement.
“No. Not really.” I grinned. “Hardy har.”
She laughed and let it trail into a sarcastic sneer as she tossed her empty coffee cup into her Jeep and pulled out a second.
“Oh, thank God. I ran out.” I reached toward the java feeling relieved.
August slowly pulled her hand back, a wicked smile embracing her face. “That’ll be fifteen dollars.”
I paused, crossing my arms, scrutinizing her. “So you’re going to steer the four-wheeler while carrying that?”
“Yep.” She popped the p sound.
“Oh, this’ll be fun,” I laughed.
“Well, at least you can recognize the signs of where you’re falling short,” she countered as she stepped into her harness. “I can multitask, Lily.”
I snorted in reply.
Around the back of my truck, I sifted through my gear. Dropping my harness to the ground and flattening it out before stepping into it. A plethora of tools hung from every loop and knot. August climbed the small trailer, mounted the ATV she lovingly called Grizzly, and stood as she eased the machine down the ramps. Looking over both shoulders repeatedly, she spun full circle and aimed for the trees. She stood ready to get the day going and I climbed on behind her holding the racks at the back of the wheeler. Firmly grasping the coffee, she eased into the thick.
“Getting there later, August, doesn’t mean we have to work any less.”
August turned her head, taking a long drink of the steamy liquid. She carefully tried to prove her point while gaining speed.
I glanced to my right and brilliant white caught my attention. My eyes snapped up to find piercing blue ones staring back at me from between the trees. My breath froze in my lungs at the sight. A man stood, immense, with raven dark hair, milky skin, and a momentous presence. A second later he was gone, and I immediately thought to pay attention to the trees. I turned too late, and a low-hanging branch caught me right across the collarbone and knocked me back.
“Harper! Wake up, slacker!” August bellowed as she quickly glanced over her shoulder to make sure I was still on the seat. My two best friends often called me by my last name. Only my dad used to call me Lilian.
“Yeah,” I answered lamely as I sat upright and glanced back at the spot where I’d seen the man.
Empty.
Or at least I thought I’d seen a man.
The wheeler slowed as I gingerly rubbed the area the branch connected with, and I spotted the small clearing up ahead as we climbed closer. This was the stopping point, where Grizzly could no longer pass with ease.
“Who was that?” I looked around expecting him to reappear.
“What are you talking about?” August reached into one of the two giant tool boxes fitted to the back of Grizzly, pulling out her knife and tucking it into her boot. “Wait! Did you see it?” Her eyes were wide, yet serious.
August was convinced Sasquatch was real and she planned to catch him and take him on a traveling fair circuit for money. Sometimes I think she wasn’t kidding. She claimed, If we’re out here this much, why wouldn’t we look for Bigfoot?
“That guy back there.” I thumbed over my shoulder.
“Guy? Is he hot?” August craned her neck looking for the mysterious man as her sweeping fingers adjusted her hair.
“Yes.” I gave her a spurning look. “I’m more concerned with the fact that I just saw a hiker in this area.”
“Hotness always matters.” She rolled her eyes, ignoring my real concerns.
I was dumbfounded. I hoped she was joking. “I’m going to work.” I shook my head at her as I walked away.
“Enjoy your caffeine-free day!” she spouted happily to my back.
I pulled out my recorder and latched it to the collar of my T-shirt, clicking it on. “Good morning, mini memory. It’s May 2nd, 7:03 a.m.” I cracked my neck sideways. “And it’s only Wednesday.” I let my head loll back. “Last night’s storm clouds have dissipated. Light ground fog is settling around me. Moisture levels are uncommonly low accompanied by a cool breeze coming from the north. Today’s focus is the deterioration on the upper ridge.”
Due to the ever-shifting climate, wildfire season was becoming longer and more powerful. Great for the undergrowth, not great for slides. August and I were looking over our best options to stem the erosion taking place on the north ridge that was giving Nodean, the land owner, grief. All while trying to respect the delicate ecosystems we had to be mindful of. I had just trekked out into the wilderness hunting for any signs of a Mexican spotted owl said to have been seen in the region.
Today August and I would be in the area tagging trees we felt needed to come down and ones we knew could stay.
I approached a giant Douglas-fir, slowly gazing upwards at my goal.
“Hey, girl.” I smiled, placing a gentle hand on the trunk. “I’m going to check out how everything’s been running.”
I picked up the rope that was dangling loosely in a large loop over my shoulder. Tossing it wide around the trunk, I caught the free end. I ran it through the clip at my waist and readied for the ascent. Kicking a thick, heavy cleat into the unrelenting bark, I managed a step up and matched the action with my other foot. Tightening the knot and grabbing hold of the rope with both hands, I cat crawled up to the lower canopy.
This forest was the passion that consumed my life. I was addicted to the peace and quiet of the woods. The trees muted the world while I worked.
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I snapped a photo when the radio crackled from my hip. “Finished my last tree! Ready to go home!”
“I’ll head down to the meet point in five,” I responded.
“Ethan won’t shut up. He’s been bugging me every day about it. I don’t get it. I mean, has he seen your outfit choices?” I heard her laugh as she let go of the button.
“Do you want to walk back to town?” I smirked.
“Calm down. It was a jo—” She broke off suddenly. The radio crackled and shrill screams echoed up to me through the trees. I whipped my head backward in the direction of her site.
“August,” I breathed.
I wrenched the knot loose and sat into the harness kicking off the tree. In only seconds my feet crashed to the earth’s floor. I ripped off my gear and began running as fast as I could.
“August!” I screamed into the radio. “August, what happened? Are you okay?” I called yet again.
No answer.
My feet pelted the ground in time with my heartbeat. I breathed hard through my nose, my body saturated with fear.
“Say something, dammit!”
I fiercely shoved branches and debris aside, my lungs protesting loudly. I broke past the bushes where Grizzly was resting snugly and raged up the hill. My thighs were a machine.
“August Bayne, you better not be fucking with me right now!” I yelled into the woods.
I knew her not answering meant this was serious. August was a prankster but knew when to draw the line. This was not her. She would have burst into hysterical giggles by now. I unbuckled my gun we kept for safety against wildlife, ripping it from the holster on my thigh, readying myself.
I erupted through the trees and caught sight of her neon-orange flag tagging the tree she was supposed to be working in. The radio lay a few feet from the trunk. I frantically scanned the awning. That’s when I saw her.
“So it would seem that I didn’t check my knot again.” She sighed heavily, dangling with her safety rope wrapped tightly around her left thigh.
“Well, by all means, belay on,” I cracked as I put my gun back into its holster.
I turned and pretended to head in the direction of Grizzly.
“Proof I have more heart. Get me down,” she called impatiently while adjusting her T-shirt casually, still self-aware.
“No, you look like you got this,” I glanced up at her, my arms crossed and smiling.
“Fine! I will do your stupid weekly report,” she bargained with her palms raised outwards in surrender.
I laughed.
“I didn’t say I’d do it well,” she threatened and then purposefully twisted away from me, attempting a cold shoulder, but inertia took its toll, and she slowly spun to face me again as I walked toward the tree trunk.
“Karma, August. Karma,” I said with a sly smile.
