From within a thick, black form spilled out. It slipped silently across the dirt, glossy and purposeful then stop, the inertia which had propelled it out, wearing off. The sack deflated behind it, utterly still now its purpose fulfilled.

Bette dropped to her knees beside a spreading line of flame and began shovelling great, frantic fists of dirt  into a bucket and onto the fire, her fingers gouging into the baked earth until her nails split. Dust filled her nose and mouth, mixing with smoke and the oily reek of burning canvas and diesel. The ground scorched her palms, blistering heat radiating upward as she clawed like a wild animal, flinging soil onto the hungry blaze. Each muffled hiss of fire being smothered was a fleeting victory.

Nearby, Nyah crashed through the smoke, coughing hard, her face slick with sweat. She hefted a red fire extinguisher in both hands, yanked the pin with trembling fingers, and depressed the trigger. A blast of white foam shot out, dousing the base of a smouldering hay stack. She swept the nozzle left and right like a scythe, teeth gritted, eyes stinging. The flames there hissed, spat, and then choked, shrinking back with a reluctant whimper.

Elijah and Kamau were farther down, near the collapsing feeding shed, stomping out creeping tongues of fire with the thick soles of their boots. Kamau yelled something over the roar, his voice lost to the wind and combustion, but he didn’t stop.

Elijah had stripped down to his undershirt, which was soaked through, clinging to him like wet gauze. Together they moved like soldiers, relentless, smashing at sparks, breaking apart burning debris with a spade and shovels they’d grabbed along the way.

The smoke was everywhere, rolling in waves, suffocating and disorienting. It clung to lungs and blurred vision, seeping into clothing and hair, thick and bitter as poison.

But still they fought. Every patch of blackened earth where flames had been turned to ash was a hard-won island of survival.

Nyah yanked another extinguisher off a hook by the house, backlit by the flickering chaos. Bette grunted and wiped a soot-streaked arm across her forehead, blinking grit from her eyes. A spark burst beside her, and she slapped at her shirt as an ember tried to catch.