Kahale stared at her. She’s right. The house can’t take much more punishment and remain standing. If it continues to shake like this . . . He pulled her into an embrace. Smoke in her hair tickled his nose. “Don’t wait for me,” he said. “Grab Becca and go. We’ll be right behind you.” She nodded with tears in her eyes and disappeared into Becca’s room. Kahale stumbled along the hall to Bryce’s door and pushed it open. “Bryce!”
“Dad!” The response came from under his bed. The outside wall of his room showed a gap near the roofline and several cracks to the floor.
“We need to get outside. Come over to me.”
Bryce moved from his hiding place. A small explosion below them rocked the house. Terrified, Bryce froze in place.
No time. There’s no time.
Kahale said, “Trust me, son, we can’t stay here.” He reached his hand out and moved closer to Bryce. The carpet caught fire outside his room—heat licked at his back. Kahale grabbed his son’s wrist and pulled him into an embrace. The quaking stopped, and the house settled after a few seconds. The sudden quiet revealed more tortured cries from the walls as they lost the battle to hold up the roof. Flames raced up the interior walls, cutting them off from escape.
“Dad, what do we do?” Bryce asked.
Kahale set him aside and told him to stay put. He grabbed his steel frame bed and bent over. With a flick of his wrist, he unlocked the wheels of the frame and prepared to do something desperate. His eyes strayed to the widening crack along the outer wall. We can’t go back, so we have to go forward.
He spun the bed around and stood behind the headboard. With a glance at Bryce, he charged forward and slammed the bed into the wall. Plaster cracked and the bricks and wood behind it gave only a little. Kahale backed up and rammed the wall again. And again. And again. He kept slamming his makeshift battering ram against the bricks until the compromised integrity of the wall gave way with a ghastly crash. The bed slipped from his grip and dangled through the wall. It teetered on the edge before toppling over into the side yard.
Kahale reached back for Bryce’s hand. “We have to jump. Aim for the bushes.”
Bryce looked through the jagged hole in the wall. Kahale saw the fear in his eyes and the shaking of his tiny body. “I—I can’t, Dad.”
Kahale gripped him by both shoulders. “Yes, you can, son.” The doorframe behind them erupted in flames. Black smoke poured into the room and began to choke them. “You have to.”
Bryce stepped to the edge, closed his eyes, and plummeted to the ground. Kahale wasted no time. He ducked his head out and leaped to safety as the house behind him convulsed a final time and collapsed in flames.
Bryce coughed and rested his chin on Kahale’s shoulder as he carried him away from the wreckage. His lungs burned from smoke and exertion. Kahale reached the sidewalk and set his son down. Bent at the waist, he surveyed the damage.
Fire engulfed the house. Thick, black smoke rose into the early morning sky. The roof had collapsed at the front and took most of the wall with it. Kahale could see right inside where flames licked at the exposed beams.
“Key!”
The gruff voice of his neighbor spun Kahale around. “Have you seen Rina or Becca?”
Keith spread his arms apart. “I haven’t seen them.”
Panic seized him. He stared at the burning wreckage.
“Dad?”
Kahale patted Bryce on the head and said, “Don’t worry, buddy. Keith will stay with you. I’m going to go find your Mom and sister.”
“Jesus,” Keith swore. He stood beside them and added, “I think it finally happened—the fucking big one. Lasted over three minutes, man. Was thinking it would never stop.”
Kahale clapped him on the arm. “Stay with him. I need to go back in for Rina and Becca.”
Keith’s jaw dropped. He grabbed Kahale’s arm. “You can’t be serious? You can’t go back in there!”
Kahale shook him off. “My wife and daughter are in there. I won’t leave them behind.”
“Dad!” Bryce said, “Becca isn’t home. She snuck out.”
It took a moment for his words to sink in. When they did, he turned and raced toward his crumbling home. A high whistle screamed in the air before the gas main blew. The shockwave tossed Kahale back against a parked vehicle. Two more walls of the house collapsed in, kicking up flames and dust. The last of the roof crashed to the ground with a resounding boom.
“RINA!”
Keith held him back. He reached for the wreckage, but his strength failed him. Bryce wept beside him. Sirens wailed in the distance. Kahale’s heart broke, and the earth shook again.
Fires burned out of control everywhere he looked. Kahale inched Keith’s pickup truck along the cracked surface streets. Abandoned vehicles crowded the lanes and made the going slow.
He swiped at the tears on his cheeks. Leaving Bryce behind had been hard. Bryce didn’t want him to go and cried when Keith took him from his arms. The anguished expression on his son’s face told him how scared he was of losing Daddy, too. But it had to be done. If I’m to find Becca, I need to do it alone.
Kahale choked back another sob. He rounded a corner and slammed on the brakes. Water gushed up from a broken main and flooded the street. He threw the gearshift into reverse and draped an arm over the seat as he backed up to the intersection.
I need to find Becca. If Bryce is right, and she snuck out, she could be hurt or in trouble. I need to bring her home.
Kahale drove. Black smoke choked the horizon and tickled his throat. Through the gaps between collapsed and burning buildings, he made out the Transamerica Pyramid in the distance. “Holy . . .” he whispered.
A jagged scoring in the facade of the tower scarred its pristine appearance. Flames shot out of the broken glass windows. Debris fluttered in the breeze. Kahale’s heart raced with the realization not every black speck in the air was debris.
He snapped his attention back to the task at hand. Maneuvering around wreckage, he made it through another series of turns and headed for the waterfront. I found her there earlier—please God let me find her there now.
Another aftershock shook the area. The road ahead undulated from the force exerted on it. Glass rained down from the buildings above, tinkling on the steel of the truck. Kahale swerved to avoid a falling post. His foot slammed on the brake and stopped the truck inches from a parked car. The truck continued to sway from the quake. Through the windshield he watched people run for cover—their terrified expressions burned in his mind.
Becca.
He squeezed the wheel and threw the vehicle into reverse. The bumper crashed into something hard, but Kahale didn’t stop. He slipped it back into drive and floored it. The aftershock passed, and he drove over the broken shards of asphalt. He reached the Embarcadero and headed north. Trees tilted at odd angles along the side of the road and broken branches lay strewn across the blacktop.
Kahale tuned in satellite radio to get the latest update on the situation. The announcer’s voice emitted from the truck’s speakers in a somber tone. “The sun is coming over the horizon on the left coast this morning to reveal untold horrors. According to the U.S. Geological Survey, an earthquake reading eight point one on the Richter scale occurred just after three-thirty this morning. It lasted an astounding three and a half minutes.”
Kahale’s eyes watered and his breathing grew shallow as he listened. “Los Angeles and San Francisco counties are battling many fires at this hour, most of which are out of control. There are simply too many for overtaxed fire departments to manage. Power is out throughout the region, with cell service spotty. Reports have come in of several building collapses, including portions of the Transamerica Pyramid in San Francisco. Aftershocks ranging between seven and seven point five on the Richter scale have occurred with more expected over the course of this day.”
He drove past a pile-up on the opposite lane. The highway collapsed and several cars sat at awkward angles in the hole. Kahale swallowed and
continued to head north.
“Scientists with the Geological Survey are calling this the Big One—the long-feared event for Californians. Thousands are injured at this hour with thousands more unaccounted for. Property damage is expected to be many hundreds of billions of dollars. The President spoke early this morning from the Rose Garden to declare a state of emergency and pledge the full support of the government.”
Kahale turned the radio off. He wiped at his wet eyes and felt a constriction in his chest. So much destruction. So much loss. It’s almost beyond imagining. He reached Pier 39 and took Stockton Street to exit the Embarcadero. The truck bounced over the curb and he drove out onto the pier. It was in shambles. None of the buildings held up well. As he reached the end, he thought about a tsunami danger, but the thought vanished when he looked to the west.
He stepped out of the truck and stared open-mouthed at the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance. A section of the bridge had fallen into the bay. Wires hung in the air where they had snapped off, leaving a gaping chasm in the road.
Where are you Becca?
Kahale searched the pier for forty minutes with no sign of Becca. A cold sweat dotted his brow. What if she didn’t come here? She could be anywhere—hurt, scared . . . alone. From the end of the pier, he looked back toward the city. Sirens wailed and fires burned. Dante could not have painted a better picture of hell.
How will I ever find her out there?
Kahale frowned. He refused to give in to his mounting dread. He jogged toward the truck where a glance at the beach below showed a dark shape crouched on the sand. Closer inspection showed the shape to be two distinct people huddled together.
His hands gripped the railing, and his breath caught in his throat. Fresh tears sprung forth as he recognized Becca. He rushed to the end of the pier and hurried toward the beach. It took ten minutes before he stood in the soft sand in front of his only daughter. A boy had his arm draped around her shoulder, but she cast it off when her eyes met her father’s. She leaped to her feet and ran into his embrace. The coconut smell of her hair filled him with a familiar joy. He squeezed her tight and felt her sobs against his chest.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked on the second syllable. “I—I didn’t know this would happen. I’m sorry I snuck out. I—”
“Shhh,” Kahale silenced her. He stroked her head and held her close. “It’s okay. It’s okay. All that matters is I found you.”
She pushed out of his embrace and looked up at him. “We ran to the beach when the pier shook. I—I thought it would be safest out here where nothing could fall on us. How bad is it?”
“We can talk about it later.” He gave her a wan smile. “Nobody, huh?”
Becca glanced behind her at the scruffy-looking beach-bum watching them. “This is Seth,” she introduced him. “He’s a friend.”
Kahale gave him the once over. He was a few years older than Becca, but the fear etched on his face somehow made him seem younger. “You have a family, Seth?”
Seth jumped to his feet and brushed sand off his shorts. “Yes, sir.”
“I suggest you find them, they have to be worried.”
Seth nodded. He looked like he wanted to say something to Becca, but, to his credit, left without a word.
“How’s Mom and Bryce?” Becca asked. “Are they here?”
Kahale felt the lump in his throat threaten to strangle him. He took a deep breath and said, “Bryce is fine. He’s with Keith.”
Confusion flitted across her face. She took a small step back. “If he isn’t with you, why isn’t he with Mom?”
His eyes watered. Kahale opened his mouth but could not find the words. How do I tell her this? How do I shatter her heart beyond repair? He stepped closer, his breathing ragged.
“Dad? Where’s Mom?”
Kahale licked his lips. His mouth felt dry. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tilted his head back and tried to find the right words. The easy words. The way to tell his daughter that her mother was gone, without it completely destroying her. But those words did not exist.
“You’re scaring me, Dad.”
He opened his eyes. With tears running down his cheeks, he said, “She didn’t make it.”
Becca shook her head. “No. You’re wrong. Why would you say that?”
“Becca.” He reached out for her and she jerked backward.
“Don’t. You’re lying. Mom is fine. She has to be.”
Kahale said, “Becca, I’m so sorry. She’s gone.”
“No.” She covered her mouth and screamed. “NO!”
Her chest heaved and she fell to her knees. She punched the sand over and over again as tears poured from her eyes. Kahale moved to her side and took a few shots to his chest before she allowed him to console her. He wrapped his arms around her and they wept. Hard, wrenching sobs wracked them. They cried for a mother. For a wife. For a world without her.
Sorrow clung to the crowded shelter. At all hours of the day, weary, tired faces stared into space with glazed-over expressions and dead eyes. Surrounded by misery, Kahale could not spend another night amongst the anguished wails and quiet sobs of the survivors.
It had been seven days since the last aftershock—itself measuring four point four on the Richter scale. San Francisco remained a smoldering ruin. Over twenty-five thousand injured, four thousand still missing, and six hundred confirmed dead. Los Angeles was even worse. According to the news last night, the talk was turning to mass evacuation.
Kahale packed the last of their belongings into the back of Keith’s truck. The sight gave him pause. Everything we own, and it doesn’t even fill the back of a pickup truck. Kahale had wasted no time accepting Keith’s offer of a place to stay in the countryside. I need to get my family away from this place—away from the reminders of what we’ve lost.
The creak of hinges drew his attention as Keith banged the driver’s door shut. He smiled at Kahale and asked, “You ready to go?”
Kahale lifted the tailgate and slammed it closed. He nodded, and said, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“You sure about this?” Keith asked. “Talk is martial law will be enacted soon. You leave now, you’ll be a deserter.”
A deserter. Of all the things I thought I’d be, I never thought I’d be that.
“It has to be done. More than ever now, I have to do what’s best for the kids. We can’t stay here surrounded by all this tragedy.”
Keith nodded his understanding, though Kahale wondered if he could ever understand what his family was going through. He turned to find Bryce, shoulders hunched, shuffling toward the truck. Kahale put on a smile he did not feel and asked, “You ready, champ?”
Bryce gave a slight nod and climbed into the back seat. He hadn’t spoken more than a few words since Rina passed. The change of scenery will do him good. He’ll be okay. He will. Kahale ruffled Bryce’s hair and asked, “You see your sister?”
No response.
Keith hollered from the other side of the truck, “You might try out back. Think I saw her down there before.”
Kahale cupped Bryce’s cheek, then turned and headed toward the back of the sprawling shelter. He found her on the lawn, gazing out into nothingness. “Becca,” he called. “It’s time. We need to go.”
She made no effort to move.
“Becca,” he tried again.
“I’m not going,” she said. Her bitter tone tore at his heart.
“Well, you’re not staying here.”
Becca turned her head to glare at him. “This is the last place Mom ever lived. I’m not going to some place she never knew.”
Kahale sighed. “I need to get you away from all this, Becca.”
“Why?” Her voice rose an octave. “So I can forget her? Is that what’s best for me, Dad?”
“I never said that.” He placed his hands on his hips. “But it isn’t safe here. And it’s only going to get worse. We have to get out now while we still can.”
“If you want to go somewhere so bad, why don
’t we go home? To Hawaii.”
Raised voices up the hill gave way to pushing and shoving before a punch was thrown and a crowd gathered around.
Kahale said, “Do you understand what’s going on Becca? Martial law will be declared anytime now. When that happens, I’ll be called back to active duty. It’s impossible for me to leave the country right now. We need to disappear before that happens.”
The fight on the hill rose in intensity. Kahale wanted to go break it up, but couldn’t risk becoming involved. Becca got to her feet and jabbed a finger at him. “So, once again, I’m expected to go somewhere I hate because of your job. Is that it?”
He shook his head. “You think of it however you like, Becca, but I’m still your father, and I will do whatever is necessary to protect you. That includes leaving this place.” Becca muttered something under her breath. “What was that?”
She stared at him. Her eyes had grown cold over the past few days, and now they chilled his bones. “I said, Mom would still be alive if you hadn’t brought us here in the first place.”
The accusation staggered him. Like tiny knives, they cut away the thin layer of skin grown around his broken heart. Kahale pointed toward the shelter. “Go get in the truck.”
Becca’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “I hate you! Mom would be alive today if it wasn’t for you.”
“Maybe,” he said. “And maybe she’d be alive if she’d stayed with me instead of searching for you in your empty room.”
He regretted it as soon as the words were out. Becca stared open-mouthed at him. He wanted to take it back—to make things right between them. But how do I make this right? How do I possibly do that? She’s lost her mother and already feels somewhat responsible for that—she doesn’t need me saying so.
He grabbed for her wrist as she stormed past. “Becca, I’m—” She shrugged out of his grasp and kept walking toward the truck. “I’m sorry,” he said to her back. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again. He knew it wouldn’t be enough. Some wrongs cannot be righted so easily. As he followed her, though, he swore to himself, he would never stop trying.
For family, he would never give up.
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