single-filed through a field office completing duties and re-uniting appropriately on schedule. There was no word for the kind of 'draft' that had caught a Galax on fire. Smudges and bruises were coated in petroleum jellies and so we were somewhat idfentifiable as probably shouldn't just get back to work.
"Eh?!! One more here." A man with singed hair and wrapped in gauze fingers had sniffed the air, but the nurse had walked away without treating a gash on his shins. "Put these on him," an Admin clutched the packaged face mask and sunglasses hard but passed them over to a field desk.
An indeterminate amount of time brought us to mid-range. On the Cherohalla some of the trees coated in liquid were already sending cracks of distress "calls". Someone asked, "How is this possible? A tree making a call?" Field bags had been tossed onto small puddlejumper planes in a rush: Hostages.
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