Set against the backdrop of an erupting volcano on New Zealand’s North Island, Lana wrestles with her recent grief, for survival on the mountain and her future with a man whose past she was once part of. Woven through her narrative is Alfred’s story and the theft of war medals, and which Lana finds herself enmeshed in, further threatening her life. Follow Lana as she tries to extricate herself from not only the mountain but her past.
Welcome to the first snippet of Fire in the Mountain
Alfred winced as he cowered in the sodden grey mud of the foxhole. The B-17 flying fortress had again missed its target of the monastery on the hill and the purple cold of the night sky lit up with the red and orange incandescence of the explosions. Alfred watched the rain flash light and dark sparkling wet against the glow of the fires.
Everything around him seemed to be happening in slow motion making him an observer, not a participant. Harold lay writhing in pain next to him with one leg bent at a hideous angle, the other blasted off at the knee. His blood was at one minute black and the next red. There was so much of it. He could smell it and worse, taste it in his mouth. Harold panicked and grasped his stump, screaming. The piercing sounds of falling bombs and the thunderous boom of explosions stayed outside Alfred’s consciousness until Harold’s gurgled screams brought him back. He wriggled to Harold through the bloody urine soaked mud keeping well below the top of the dugout.