The roar of the flames echoed in Mia’s ears long before she saw them. The sky, once a clear blue, was now a thick, oppressive orange, choked by smoke. She gripped the steering wheel of her car, her knuckles pale, as she glanced nervously at the rearview mirror. The fire was coming, and fast.

But the road ahead was a parking lot.

Mia's pulse quickened as she surveyed the sea of cars—engine after engine, all idling, motionless, just like her. People were honking, shouting, panic rising like a tidal wave. The fire had spread across the canyon, crawling closer with every passing second. She could hear the crackling from here, smell the burning wood on the wind.

She slammed her fist on the steering wheel. Come on. Come on! The streets should have been clear by now, but all the exits were blocked.

Mia’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She snatched it up.

It was a message from her mother. “Stay safe. Love you.”

Mia’s eyes welled with tears. She could barely breathe. If she didn’t get out soon, it might be too late.

Around her, other drivers were growing frantic. Some were reversing, trying to go back, but there was nowhere to turn. The cars just formed an unbroken line of metal and frustration, all trapped, like ants on a path leading straight into the flames.

Mia’s heart pounded. She looked up again, her throat tight. The smoke had thickened, rolling in like a wall. The sky was a violent swirl of reds and grays, and in the distance, she saw the orange flicker of fire along the hillside.

There wasn’t much time.

She turned to her passenger seat, grabbing her purse and the half-packed bag she had thrown together earlier. Her eyes darted to the door. She couldn’t wait anymore. The heat was unbearable, the air thick with panic.

She reached for the door handle.

"Get out!" someone screamed from a nearby car, and Mia’s heart skipped a beat as a couple burst out of their vehicle, running down the side of the road. The flames were coming too fast, too close.

Mia grabbed her bag and shoved the door open.

The moment her feet hit the pavement, the heat slammed into her like a furnace blast. The thick smoke made it hard to breathe, but there was no choice. She ran, her legs moving on instinct, the sound of frantic footsteps all around her, the heat on her back, the crackling of flames pushing her forward.

Cars were abandoned on both sides of the road, their drivers now running alongside her. Mia’s breath came in desperate gasps, her lungs aching. She could hear the roar of the fire, louder now, too close for comfort. Her eyes stung from the smoke, but she couldn’t stop.

As the orange glow began to reflect off the rising smoke, Mia stumbled and looked up to see the flames creeping down the hill, hungry and fast. She had no idea where she was running to, but staying behind wasn’t an option anymore.

She glanced over her shoulder. The traffic jam was a slow-moving, suffocating gridlock, and the fire was moving faster than anyone had anticipated.

A man ahead of her collapsed, gasping for air, his face covered in ash. A woman screamed in horror as she tried to help him, but there was nothing anyone could do. The fire was coming too quickly, forcing everyone to make a choice: stay and fight—or flee and hope.

Mia kept running, pushing forward, each step heavier than the last. The world was on fire behind her, but somehow, she couldn’t stop.

The sound of cracking branches and the roar of the fire reached a crescendo as the wind changed direction. The fire surged forward, cutting off any escape behind.

Mia looked ahead, searching for safety. There were no guarantees. But if she could just keep moving, if she could just make it out of the smoke and into the clearing ahead, maybe she would find a way to survive. Maybe, just maybe, she’d get the chance to breathe again.

In that moment, survival became everything.