The first thing Penelope registered was the heat. Not the soft, drowsy warmth of morning sunlight, but a stifling, skin-prickling blaze that made it hard to breathe. Her eyes fluttered open slowly. Her cheek was pressed to dirt. Dry pine needles clung to her hoodie. Her fingers curled around the straps of a backpack beneath her head, as if she'd instinctively treated it like a pillow.
Something was wrong.
She blinked again. The sky above was clouded, not with rain, but with smoke. Gray, suffocating smoke that filled her nose and stung her eyes. A distant crackle registered in her ears, followed by the sharp hiss of sap boiling in tree bark. Her sluggish thoughts jolted into clarity.
The woods were on fire.
Panic surged through her like a lightning strike. She lurched upright, the backpack tumbling from her hands. Flames licked up the sides of nearby trees, already blackening their trunks. A wall of fire crept toward her in a semi-circle, smoke rising in thick curls.
Penelope coughed, stumbling to her feet. Her heart pounded. Her chest felt tight, and not just from the smoke.
Where was she? Why was she here? What had happened? She had no answers. No memory of arriving in these woods. Just waking up alone and surrounded by flames.
She grabbed the backpack, slinging it over one shoulder without checking its contents. Her only thought was escape. Run now, figure it out later.
She darted between trees, trying to stay ahead of the fire, eyes scanning for any break in the inferno. A deer trail opened ahead. She sprinted toward it, legs pumping, sweat running down her face and back. The heat was unbearable, the smoke choking.
Then came the sound — a sharp snap, like a gunshot.
A flaming branch cracked and tumbled from above, landing directly in her path. The fire flared up instantly, cutting her off. She skidded to a stop, nearly falling backward.
"No, no, no!" she gasped, eyes wide.
She turned to find another way but realized with growing horror that she was surrounded. The fire had boxed her in.
Her breath hitched. The smoke was making her dizzy. Her legs trembled. She clutched the backpack to her chest and screamed.
"HELP! Somebody! Please!"
The trees didn't answer. The fire crackled hungrily.
She screamed again, her voice cracking. "ANYONE! PLEASE!"
And then—
"Hang on! I'm coming!"
A man's voice. Strong, steady. Somewhere just beyond the flames.
Penelope turned toward it, barely believing her ears. She saw a shape moving through the smoke—broad-shouldered, older, moving with urgency.
Then a rush of flame retardant exploded in front of her. The flames hissed and died back. A figure stepped through the opening.
Gray hair, red shirt with white Hawaiian flower print, khaki vest and blue jeans. Despite his grandfatherly appearance his stance was solid, and he seemed calm under pressure.
"Are you alright?" he asked, grabbing her arm and steering her away from immediate danger.
Penelope nodded, stunned, her throat too raw to speak.
They made it through the last line of smoldering trees and into a clearing. She coughed hard, sucking in clean air.
The man knelt beside her, checking her over with a practiced eye.
"Are you hurt? What's your name? What were you doing out here alone?"
She wiped her eyes. Her voice came out hoarse. "I... l'm Penelope. I don't know where I am. I just woke up in the woods. I was asleep or something, but I don't remember how I got here." As she spoke she grew more panicked as her understanding of her situation became clearer.
The man looked at her, eyes narrowing slightly, not with suspicion, but concern.
Before he could ask more, another scream rang out through the woods.
His head snapped toward the sound. "Gwen."
He was up in an instant, charging toward the noise with surprising speed for someone his age.
Penelope didn't hesitate. Her legs moved before her mind caught up. She ran after him.
"Wait! Who are you? What's happening?"
"Name's Max Tennyson," he called back over his shoulder. "I'm looking for my grandkids."
Penelope's thoughts reeled. Missing kids? Forest fires? What exactly had she dropped into? And why did everything look so big?
But she couldn't afford to stop. Whoever that scream belonged to was still in danger. And this Max guy — he might not have all the answers, but he clearly knew what he was doing.
The trees blurred around her as they ran, the sky overhead still tinted with smoke. Her mind raced even faster. Something about this didn't add up. Not just the fire, but also her unexplainable memory loss.
The scream came again, and Max veered left, crashing through the underbrush like a tank. Penelope followed, skirting the brambles.
They burst through a tree line into another clearing. A flaming creature with an iconic emblem on its chest, a black circle with a white hourglass shape overtop. A girl with ginger hair stood nearby wearing a matching blue t-shirt and capris while holding a fire extinguisher.
Penelope skidded to a halt, staring.
Max didn't miss a beat. He charged forward before also abruptly stopping when he caught sight of the scene.
"Ben! Gwen! I'm… here?"
"Hey, Grandpa, guess who?" The ginger girl greeted.
The flame creature spoke next, waving its hand. "It's me, Grandpa!"
Max was stunned at first as he came to the impossible conclusion of… "Ben? What happened to you?"
The sudden realization of where she was hit Penelope like a truck—and she couldn't handle it. The world tilted and spun, and then it just... stopped.
Penelope collapsed like a marionette with cut strings.
Max caught her before she hit the ground hard, easing her limp form to the forest floor. Gwen gasped, rushing over, while Ben — now transformed into a literal fire monster — stood back, not wanting to accidentally burn someone by getting too close.
"She passed out!" Gwen said, kneeling beside Max.
"Shock, probably," Max said calmly. "Between the fire and then seeing Ben's new appearance... That's a lot for anyone."
Ben scratched the back of his neck, looking guilty. "Don't think I look that scary."
"You're a living bonfire, Ben," Gwen shot back. "And also, who even is she, Grandpa?!"
Max waved a hand to stop the squabble. "That can wait. First we need to deal with this forest fire. Ben, I need you to create a backfire. Start a new fire and let it burn into the old fire. They'll snuff each other out. Think you can do it?"
Ben's new molten face seemed to shift into a smug expression, "Shooting flames? That, I can definitely do."
"While he does that, Gwen, I need you to use both of our extinguishers to help clear us a safe path back to the Rustbucket.
Meanwhile, I'll carry Penelope." Max told his granddaughter as he held the other young girl in a bridal carry since she fainted.