Chap. 3: The Whisper of Water

We didn’t stop running—because stopping meant giving up.

My lungs screamed, every breath a battle against the choking smoke. The ridge beneath us narrowed, crumbling at the edges. On one side: fire. On the other: a sheer drop into shadows too thick to see the bottom.

“Rowan! Watch your step!” Ms. Linley’s voice cut through the chaos again, but she was farther ahead now. Too far.

“Ethan, hold on,” I panted, grabbing a tree root jutting out of the dirt path as we climbed. My hand burned on the bark—was it hot, or was that just my imagination?

No. Everything was burning.

Then—crack!

A tree behind us split down the middle, a fiery blaze devouring it from the inside out. It fell fast—toward the path.

“Down!” I shoved Ethan and dove to the ground just as the trunk thundered down, cutting us off from the rest of the group.

“Ms. Linley!” I cried, coughing. “We’re trapped!”

No answer.

Smoke swirled, thick like fog but biting, like it had teeth. I dropped to my knees, pulling Ethan with me. “Stay low. Crawl. We have to find another way.”

“Rowan,” Ethan gasped, pointing with a shaking hand, “look!”

Behind a tangle of scorched brush, barely visible, was a small trail sloping down. It looked… untouched. Almost like a path no one else saw.

I blinked. The smoke parted for a moment, and I saw something glinting down the hill.

Water?

“We need to go that way,” I said.

“But what if it’s not safe?”

“It’s safer than burning to death,” I said, trying to sound braver than I felt. “Come on!”

We slid down the hidden trail, feet slipping on ash and loose dirt. The roar of the fire faded slightly. I could hear something new now—rushing water. A stream? A creek?

And then—there it was.

A narrow stream, shallow but clean, cutting through a small rocky clearing. And above it—high, nearly hidden in the rock face—was the dark outline of a cave.

“Shelter,” I breathed.

We scrambled toward it. The moment we stepped inside the cave, the temperature dropped. It was still hot, but no longer unbearable. My heart thudded, wild but relieved.

Ethan collapsed beside me, tears streaking down his smoke-smeared face. “We made it. We’re alive.”

“We’re not out of it yet,” I said, pulling off my backpack and digging for my emergency water bottle. “But this’ll give us a chance.”

We sat there in the quiet, just breathing, letting the cool cave swallow the noise for a minute. Then Ethan looked up. “You think God led us here?”

I paused. Thought about the path no one else had seen. The shimmer of water through the smoke.

“I don’t think He did,” I said slowly. “I know He did.”

Outside, the fire still raged. But in that cave, with the sound of water flowing and a strange peace settling around us, I remembered something Ms. Linley said once:

“Sometimes God doesn’t take you out of the fire. Sometimes He walks with you through it.”

And I whispered, “Thank You, Lord. For not leaving us alone.”

To be continued…

P.S. When the flames die down, the real journey begins.