Wallace remains calm until the first shower of flaming embers falls over the town. That changes everything. Residents tolerated the smoke, heat, and ash because they believed summer would soon end and the rain would come. Now the catastrophe is upon them. Embers land on a canvas awning and torch the cloth, reminding the townspeople they are “vulnerable to an unseen terror, something bigger, more distant, and less predictable than anything that had threatened Wallace over the past month” (142). Within days, several hundred people board trains with everything they can carry. There are only two exit routes from town: downriver to the west or uphill to the east. Either route could catch fire, so trains leave in both directions. The mayor declares that only women, children, and the elderly can evacuate. All men fit for fighting fires must stay.

Fire fighters trudging through the woods see deer, elk, black bears, and birds retreating from the upper mountains. Across the river from Wallace is the Sisters of Providence hospital, which will be isolated if the bridge connecting it to Wallace collapses. For 60 hours, the buffalo soldiers try in vain to induce rain by firing dynamite into the sky, before digging a fire line to protect the town.