New Madrid Earthquake

by Bobby Akart

  It was gone.

  The warehouse was gone.

  It had been sucked into the earth. Swallowed whole.

  Like it was never there.

  She stared for several seconds in disbelief, oblivious to her surroundings.

  Then, inexplicably, Anthony opened the car door and exited. He pushed it closed and walked in front of the hood until he stopped.

  Stoic. Trancelike. Mesmerized by the sight of the ground disappearing in front of them.

  Beth screamed his name. “Anthony!”

  She looked all around her in disbelief. Where the warehouse building once stood, the ground was quickly collapsing. Water began to drain out of the fields, creating a waterfall effect. As the water poured over the edge, more of the rain-soaked soil joined it. It was more than a sinkhole. It was creating a void in the earth.

  Beth reached over to the door handle to pull it open. It slid out of her moist hand. She frantically wiped her palm off on the blanket and tried again.

  It was locked. She searched the door panel. There was no way to unlock it. She tried the other door, sliding across the blood-soaked seat. It was also locked.

  The ground shook slightly.

  “Anthony! Come back here!” The front seat windows were barely cracked. Could he hear her? He just stood there without responding. Did he see the earth crumbling?

  Her baby started to cry. Beth clutched her tight. Maybe too tight. She tried to release her grip as she rocked her child. The tears began to flow.

  Willie was probably dead. Sucked underground while trying to care for her. She’d killed him.

  Waves of guilt and fear swept over Beth. Because … well, just because of everything. She began breathing rapidly, and her rocking motion increased in speed.

  She called her son’s name out over and over again, but he didn’t respond. Beth turned sideways in the cramped back seat. She kicked at the windows, but with each kick, she only propelled herself across the slippery, blood-covered seat to the other side.

  She sat upright and centered herself facing forward. She groaned in pain as she pulled her knees as close to her belly as she could. She unleashed a hard double-kick at the back of the steel mesh separating her from the front seat.

  “Arrrgh!” she screamed in utter pain as her insides contracted and seemed to shift.

  The divider didn’t budge.

  She began bleeding profusely, but she had to try again.

  Beth let out a primeval growl as she kicked the screen again. Her bloodied and bruised feet screamed back as they embedded in the mesh. Yet the screen didn’t move.

  She was angry now. She pounded at the divider with her free hand. Over and over again, cursing it at the top of her lungs.

  It didn’t move. It was built to withstand the most fervent of attacks, from drug-fueled rages to the distraught mother of a newborn.

  Beth begged for help. She began sobbing and breathing rapidly again.

  “Anthony,” she plead, barely loud enough to be heard inside the car much less at the front bumper. The ground continued to shudder as the chasm widened. It had begun to eat the asphalt that was once Star Landing Road. The surrounding groundwater aided its advance, moistening the fields that had produced cotton for two hundred years so they could be easily devoured by the monster lurking beneath. Undermining the roadbed to allow the asphalt to crumble.

  “Please, Anthony,” she sobbed. Her face was covered with tears and mucus. She didn’t bother to wipe it off with her free hand. She focused on comforting her crying baby.

  The road was gone now.

  The back entrance to the Shell station was next. Foot by foot, the gravel and asphalt fell downward in chunks. A telephone pole holding two transformers swayed back and forth like a drunk trying to walk the line after being pulled over.

  Then it too succumbed to the hungry beast. The station’s dumpster was next. It teetered on the edge of the abyss, and then, just like that, it was gone, too.

  “Anthony!” Beth screamed in despair. “Honey, please come open the door for Momma. Puhleeze!”

  Oddly, she started laughing as she lost control. This had to be a nightmare. After she gave birth to a miracle child, how could God take their lives away like this?

  She closed her eyes and rocked her daughter. Waiting for the inevitable—joining Willie and, next, her son, in the depths below.

  Then she heard it. A click followed by a rush of cool air engulfing her body. She immediately shivered, but she was suddenly completely lucid.

  “Momma. Cold.”

  Beth twisted in her seat and there stood Anthony. Her little man. Her three-foot-tall, barely thirty-pound adorable child had opened the door.

  The back of the gas station began to collapse as the ground ate the back corner of the building.

  Beth clutched her baby and slid across the seat. She stepped out of the car and braced herself on the door until she could get her footing. Then she bent over and kissed Anthony.

  “Good boy, Anthony. You are a very good boy.”

  He looked down at the ground and pointed. “Momma. Boo-boo.”

  Blood was dripping down Beth’s legs.

  The Shell station was slipping away, block by block. The chasm was less than a hundred feet away.

  “Yes, honey. But I will be fine. Come on. I need you to get in the car.”

  She grabbed her jeans off the ground, hurriedly tossed them in the back seat, and pushed the rear door closed. She opened the front door for Anthony and kissed him on the cheek. He allowed her a slight smile and dutifully slid into the seat. He adjusted himself in place, reached for the seatbelt, and buckled it. It’s something adults do several times a day. Anthony never had, until now.

  Beth hustled around the front of the car with a watchful eye on the approaching rift. She stopped for a moment to search for Willie. When she saw the thousand-foot-wide opening in the earth, she knew he was gone.

  She clutched her newborn and rushed into the car. She transferred her baby to her left arm, started the ignition, and burned rubber off the tires as she backed out of the parking lot onto the highway.

  She backtracked on Highway 61 a quarter mile until she found a road that led to the east away from the river. It was covered in three or four inches of water, but the highway patrol car seemed to sail right over it.

  Anthony found his DUPLO blocks, and he was back in his comfort zone. Her new daughter had fallen asleep against Beth’s chest. Beth fought to slow her breathing, and then the voice of Willie entered her consciousness.

  Breathe, Beth. Easy though. If you pass out, who’s gonna tell me what to do?

  Tears streamed down her face once again. She managed a smile.

  “Thank you, Willie Angel.”

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Sunday, December 23

  Memphis, Tennessee

  The guys moved toward town along the levee until they reached a raised walkway leading to a parking garage. They climbed up a single flight of stairs to reach the top deck of the garage. Jack led the way to the railing of the three-story structure, where he was the first to notice what was happening.

  He had been in law school when devastating floods occurred in the Memphis area during the spring of 2011. A pair of major storm systems had rocked the Midwest, dumping record levels of rainfall along the Mississippi River watershed. Added to the heavy amounts of rain was the usual springtime snowmelt upstream, which caused the Mississippi’s rivers and tributaries to rise to record levels.

  The river reached its highest level, just over forty-eight feet, that May. Beale Street Landing, the Tom Lee Park, and most of Riverside Drive went underwater. That flood, however, was nothing compared to what was happening now. Jack didn’t know what a hundred-year flood meant, or even the term thousand-year flood. What was happening around them was far worse. The city, or what was left of it, was gradually being immersed in water.

  “Well, driving is out of the question,” said Tony jokingly.

  “Looks like w
e might be swimming again,” Jack added.

  “That’s marvelous. Which way?”

  Jack took in the cityscape. “Damn, Tony. This is almost as bad as St. Louis. The roof of the FedEx Forum has collapsed. Beale Street is on fire. We should be able to see the Peabody Hotel from here.”

  Jack’s mind raced as he recalled the timing of the quake in St. Louis. Had it been the same here? Jill and the kids would’ve been at the Halloran about that time.

  His eyes darted around the Memphis cityscape. Water was eight to ten feet deep as far as he could see. When did the flooding start? Was it after the first quake? Or did it pour in during the second? He desperately wanted to make his way over there, but Tony’s comments interrupted his thoughts and reminded him of why it wasn’t possible.

  Tony stood a little taller and pointed toward downtown. “The whole thing is gone. There’s, like, this big void where all those buildings once stood. The rest are on fire.”

  Jack’s chin dropped to his chest. His thoughts turned to Jill. The Peabody held so many memories of their life together. The void he saw where it once stood left a void in his heart.

  He fought back his emotions and turned to Tony. “How ’bout the fires?” Jack asked as he pointed to several buildings engulfed in flames.

  They walked around to the east side of the parking garage. “It seems the water levels are lower over that way. Higher elevation, I guess.” He pointed toward the Medical District, the cluster of medical complexes near I-69, a major highway crossing through the east side of Memphis.

  “That’s the general direction we need to go. Let’s try to make our way over to Union Avenue. That’s a couple of miles on the other side of downtown. From there, I can take us to the house.”

  The guys went to the stairwell leading to the ground floor. That was where they entered the floodwaters. They were slightly warmer than the river itself. However, to their exhausted bodies, the water caused them to shiver once again.

  They swam over a long parking lot and then arrived at a one-story industrial building. The old brick structure was still standing and not completely flooded. The guys hoisted themselves up over the roof’s parapet wall. They walked across the flat roof until they reached the other side. Once there, they identified another building to swim towards.

  They continued this approach of swimming to a building, walking across or through it until they reached the other side, and then swam to the next one.

  “I feel like a bullfrog bouncing from one lily pad to another,” said Tony as they took a break on their fourth rooftop.

  “Did you notice how the water is still rising?” asked Jack. “I know these buildings are all different, but we’re able to swim right onto the rooftops now.”

  Tony shrugged and looked around. “Really, it should be just the opposite. The farther inland we go, the lower the water levels. I figured we’d be sloshing through waist-deep water at this point.”

  “Me too,” said Jack, somewhat dejected. He was tired, and they’d just gotten started. He looked toward the sky. The sun was on its downward trajectory, meaning they had three or four hours of daylight left at best.

  Tony pointed at a long, rectangular-shaped building across another parking lot. “If we can make it to that one, it’s like knocking out two lily pads at a time. Then it looks like there’s another one across the street from it that takes us closer to FedEx Forum.”

  Jack took a deep breath and dove into the water again, converting to a breaststroke from the freestyle motion he’d used for the first few legs of their swimming relay. It was slower but less taxing on his weary muscles.

  The guys made it to the first long, rectangular building, crawled through a broken window and walked through the destroyed interior until they reached the other end. The water levels were finally lower but still approached eight feet. They swam to the second building that was identical to the one they just walked through.

  It was a slow process, but they were moving east to higher ground. However, darkness was threatening to make their job more complicated. A series of residential projects were next up for the guys. There were dozens of people seen looking out their windows, expecting a rescue effort to come their way. Many stood on rooftops, looking around for any signs of a boat or helicopter. There were none.

  Before the men dove into the water to make another leg on their swim-walk journey, Jack asked Tony to wait a moment. He walked toward the north end of the building and looked back toward the Memphis Light Gas & Water building. He dropped his head and began to cry.

  Tony caught up to him and turned Jack around to see his face. “Hey, man. What’s up?”

  Jack pointed in the direction of the Memphis Light building. Just beyond it, adjacent to a concrete parking garage, two structures were ablaze.

  “Do you see the fires? Right of the parking garage?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s the Halloran Centre and the Orpheum Theatre. That’s where Emily’s rehearsal was Friday night. You know, when the quake hit.”

  “Shit,” said Tony, pretty much summing it up. He tried to look on the bright side. “Hey. Hey. That was over thirty-six hours ago. These fires wouldn’t be burning that long. And you know the water started rising with the second quake. At least, the worst of it. Right?”

  Jack sniffled and wiped his nose on his soaked shirtsleeve. The pinpoint cotton dress shirt was in tatters. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”

  “Not probably, man. I know I’m right. You need to believe that, too. Okay?”

  Jack forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah. That fire just happened, I bet. Come on.”

  The two men turned in unison and once again dove into the water. They swam for two blocks until they reached a two-story auto repair service. Like all the other buildings in the area, the glass was broken out, and virtually the entire first floor of the business was flooded. They crawled into a window and walked through the company’s workshop.

  “Do you see anything that might float?” asked Tony. “A boat would be nice.”

  The guys carefully moved across the wood floor through rubble resulting from the ceiling collapse. Shelves full of tools and auto parts had been knocked over, littering the floor with everything from brake parts to wrenches. They reached the far end of the building having given up the search for any type of flotation device.

  Suddenly, there was a crackling sound below them and a metallic scraping sound. Without warning and just seconds later, an explosion rocked the building.

  In the center of the repair shop, the floor disappeared, and superheated flames burst upward behind them. Like so many of the older buildings in Downtown Memphis, this hundred-year-old structure had just been gutted by a natural gas explosion.

  Jack and Tony ran for the windows to escape the flames. Then the second blast hit. The guys were thrown twenty feet against the outside wall of the brick structure, striking the masonry block with their upper bodies first. They were both knocked unconscious from the impact while the flames soared through the wood floor toward the ceiling like the fires of hell escaping a hole in the earth.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Sunday, December 23

  Atwood Residence

  Cordova, Tennessee

  The three of them changed into dry clothes and ate supper. Tate spent a few minutes in the Jeep, hoping to get an update on the second quake from WLAC in Nashville. They were no longer broadcasting. In fact, even the emergency warning system he found on an Oxford, Mississippi, radio station had been replaced by static. When he returned inside, he found his mom and sister standing on the back deck, watching the sun set over the horizon. It produced an orangish glow on the ever-rising lake.

  “Is it gonna flood our house?” Emily had asked a logical question that was on all their minds. She was the only one brave enough to say it out loud.

  Jill furrowed her brow and leaned over the rail to assess the distance between their basement and the rising water. “Honey, this doesn’t make any sense. I wa
s in college when we had a spring storm in May of 2011. It hit us just like a hurricane. The winds were over a hundred miles an hour. The rain flooded everything and left seventy percent of Shelby County without power for a couple of weeks. Granny said the water rose above the dock, but that was it.”

  Tate pointed down to where the dock pilings still stood. “You can barely see the posts at the surface. It’s been rising steadily all afternoon.”

  Emily was growing concerned. “Do you think we need to leave?”

  “I don’t know, honey,” her mom responded. Tate, however, had a more definitive plan.

  “I don’t think we should leave. Just move to higher ground.”

  “What do you mean?” Jill asked.

  “First, think about it. When Dad and Uncle Tony make it home, they’ll have no idea where we are. It’s not like we can leave them a note. I mean, well, I guess we could, but I have a better idea.”

  “Tell us,” said Emily.

  “Mom, you said most of the homes you went to were vacant, right?”

  “Well, yes. I suppose they just didn’t want to answer the door. Or maybe they went to the grocery stores or something.”

  “Or,” Tate continued, “maybe they’re out of town. Or they evacuated. Or got caught, you know, in what happened downtown. Either way, their houses are empty. Like Britney’s.”

  “You didn’t speak to her?” said Jill inquisitively.

  “No. I looked in all the windows and talked to her neighbor. Nothing, which goes back to my point. A lot of these homes are empty. I think we should consider finding a place nearby that’s higher up than ours.”

  “Are you talking about breaking in?” Jill asked.

  “You know, um, politely,” he replied with a sly grin. “We’ll knock first. If there’s no answer, we’ll go around back and gently break open a window to get inside.”

  “What about their alarm?” asked Emily innocently.

  “No power. No alarm,” replied Tate. “Hey, I don’t like it, but it beats going off to a place where Dad and Tony can’t find us. Besides, if the people come home, we’ll just explain and apologize.”