by Byron Tucker
Winter Fall
A Novel by Byron Tucker
Winter Fall is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents
and places are a product of the author's imagination or used
in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual events
or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2014 © by Byron Tucker
All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form whatsoever,
mechanical or digital, without express permission from the author,
except for brief quotations used in critical articles or reviews.
Cover Art: Byron Tucker
Much thanks to Ricky Dunklin, Dorothy D. and Michael Briggs for their assistance with the editing and proofreading of this novel.
I sincerely thank all my friends who have given me their
advice, encouragement and support.
~ For Mom and Dad ~
I couldn't have done this without you.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Part I
The Eruption
June 18th, 2018 - Yellowstone National Park
A bead of sweat rolled off Professor William Ellington's forehead into his left eye as he dangled on two hundred feet of free-hanging rope. He glanced up at the portal of blue sky above and then back down at the inky depths of the massive sinkhole below him. Panic spread through his veins like liquid fire, his heart jackhammering in his chest, threatening to burst out of his ribcage at any second.
To say he had doubts about this excursion, which Wyoming State University hadn't even authorized, would easily qualify for the understatement of the year. But as he pondered his reason for doing this, Ellington bit his lip, swallowed a bolus of raw fear in his throat and continued to descend, allowing the nylon rope to slip through the carabiner underneath his posterior. Authorized or not, it was vitally important to place the instrument package down at the bottom of the newly-formed sinkhole so he could collect fresh data about the true state of things underneath Yellowstone.
Despite widely-held opinion in the scientific community that the recent changes taking place in Yellowstone were of a benign nature, with little indication of it erupting as a supervolcano any time soon, Ellington thought differently. Despite the ridicule he endured from his colleagues, he held the belief that the vast magma chamber that lay underneath Yellowstone like a sleeping giant was indeed on the move, setting the stage for an eruption of cataclysmic proportions. If Yellowstone really did go off in such an eruption, it could possibly mean the end of modern civilization itself, brought on by tremendous ash fall and a years-long volcanic winter.
Despite the danger, the urgency to gather the data needed to warn the world of what could very well happen in the near future outweighed the grave risk to his own life. Doing his best to ignore the sulfuric fumes gagging his throat, Ellington descended as quickly as he could, the opening of the sky above him growing smaller by the second. Tendrils of hot, steamy air entangled his body as the not-yet-visible bottom of the sinkhole grumbled like distant thunder.
A young male voice crackled in his headphones. “Are you doing okay down there? We can barely see you.”
Ellington smiled briefly as he thought about the two eager-faced assistants who had accompanied him to Yellowstone on their own time, without pay or even extra credit. The prospect of performing a dangerous, “unauthorized” activity was inducement enough for them to volunteer for this mission, although he made certain they'd not be facing the same risks he did. Taking a moment to adjust his microphone, he said, “Yes, I'm fine. I should be at the bottom in just a few more minutes.”
“Roger that, Dr Ellington. Just let us know when you're ready to be pulled back out.”
“Yes, I'll give the signal once I'm ready.”
Ellington played out the rope as quickly as he could, with the goal of getting this over with as quickly as possible. After he descended another hundred feet or so, he endured a massive coughing fit, making him wish he'd thought to bring a gas mask. It's a bit late for that now, you fool.
Pondering whether to give the order to be pulled back up, Ellington touched down on a rocky ledge. Looking behind him with a sweep of his headlamp, he made the determination that the narrow ledge he was standing on would have to suffice, since it would be the epitome of foolishness to descend any farther. He had only about sixty feet of rope left, and the noxious fumes threatened to overwhelm him at any moment.
He worked quickly, sloughing off his backpack and extracting three box-like objects. He placed them a few feet apart on the ledge, activating them as he did so. Once he completed the task of setting up the instrument packages and made sure they were transmitting data, he straightened back up again, his body filled with the pride of accomplishment rather than the raw fear he'd felt just a few moments before. The only thing that needed to be done now was to get pulled out of this hole, and he grinned at the prospect of treating his assistants to a nice dinner at a steakhouse once they got back to Cheyenne that evening.
Adjusting the microphone of his headset with his fingers, he said, “Okay fellows, I've got the packages placed and I'm ready to be pulled out of here.”
“Yeah, we're already getting telemetry on our monitor up here,” a voice responded on Ellington's receiver. “Hold on tight, we'll get you out of there before you know it.”
Ellington's feet left the ground as his two unseen assistants pulled him upward via a wrench mechanism. He heard a deep-throated rumble coming up from the darkness below, growing more voluminous by the second. With paralyzing panic and fear returning in full force, Ellington shouted, “Something's going on down here. You need to get me out as quickly as you can.”
“Roger that.”
Despite the increased speed of his ascent, Ellington's fear intensified as the noise in the shaft increased to a deafening roar. The air around him became too foul to breathe, and he covered his mouth and nose with his hand to keep the poisonous fumes from entering his body. Just as he got to the point of not being able to hold his breath any longer, all hell broke loose around him, with rocks showering down from above accompanied by a thunderous shaking of the entire sinkhole. He looked down with wide-eyed terror, as the beam of his headlamp illuminated the top of a billowing cloud of steam racing up toward him at breakneck speed.
Oh my God, I'm going to die. Oh God, please don't let my death be in vain.
He let out a primal scream for several horrifying seconds, followed by the screams of his assistants above as the superheated steam blasted out of the sinkhole with terrifying force.
Chapter 1
Sam Durant tensed while his boss made the serve, the ball ricocheting off the black-streaked back wall at lightning speed. With his racquet in optimum position, he whipped it around, hitti
ng the compact rubber sphere with a short-accented whack! An intense, long-lasting volley ensued, with Sam eventually winning the point, and the game as well.
Sam wiped the sweat off his forehead and turned to look at John Maple, his direct superior for the past nine years. Laughing, he said, “I know it's not proper protocol to beat the boss, but it's difficult to repress the competitive spirit.”
The gray-haired man gave Sam a solid pat on the back before reaching for a towel. “Your competitive spirit is why I relish having you in my division. So feel free to kick my butt any time.”
Sensing his boss was finished with this particular session of racquetball, Sam reached for his water bottle and drank deeply, already dreading the Friday afternoon rush to get home in Chicago area traffic. He heard John clearing his throat to get his attention.
Sam turned to look at him and John said, “I know you're not going to like hearing this, but I've put you down for two weeks of vacation, starting next Friday afternoon.”
Sam's jaw dropped open in dismay. “Two weeks! I can't even take one week without the office falling apart. You know I can't afford to take that much time off. Not now.”
John reached out with his hand and gave his taller subordinate a friendly squeeze on the shoulder. “Captain's orders. The Director is forcing all of us to actually use our vacation time this year, and considering you have three weeks in the bank, two bored children and a teacher wife off for the summer, there's really no better time to be using your leave.”
Sam shook his head, thinking about all the things that would be left undone during his absence. Being a middle-level banker was never an easy job at the best of times, and with the way the economy was going these days...
“Relax, Sam, it's not the end of the world,” John said calmly. “You've been working far too many hours lately, and you've told me repeatedly that Irene is pressuring you to spend more time with your children. Hell, I've been told you were in the office this past Sunday, which is a big no-no. I'm doing this for your own good, and mine as well. You need this break.”
Sam looked into John's eyes, realizing he'd been defeated on this one. “Captain's orders, huh?”
“Yup. Two weeks, plus the weekends. No cheating. That means no work on the road, no conference calls, not even an e-mail. And no coming back early, either. Face it, Sam. You're way past due for a recharging of your batteries. I can see it in your face. We need a healthy Samuel Durant in the office, not some burned-out shell of your former self. Take your kids someplace they haven't seen before, see the country a little. Like Yellowstone, for instance.”
Sam laughed. “My brother tells me that's the most dangerous place in America right now. He thinks it's about to blow its top. But he's been saying that for over a decade now, so I don't pay much attention to him anymore.”
John looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Oh, he thinks it's going to do the supervolcano thing soon? I watched a documentary recently on the effects of such a disaster, which would be terrible, to say the least. On the other hand, we'd have plenty of notice ahead of time.”
Sam let out another chuckle. “Well, to hear Ryan tell it, the federal government is maintaining a huge cover-up of what's going on in Yellowstone. That's another good reason not to take him seriously.”
John's phone rang. He reached into his gym bag and picked it up, chatting briefly for a few moments. When he hung up, he said, “That's my wife, asking me if I can make it in time to meet a 7:30 dinner reservation.” He extended his hand toward Sam. “I've got to get going, but go home and tell the wife and kids you're taking them on a vacation. You've earned it.”
Rewarding his boss with a smile, he said, “I suppose I have.”
Traffic on Sam's usual route out from the city wasn't too bad, considering it was a Friday evening, and he made it home just before seven. Home was a modest three-bedroom, two-bath, raised ranch home on a quiet street in a solid middle-class suburb. It was nothing like the wealthy town of Lake Forest where he had grown up, and where his widowed mother still had the mansion, but Sam couldn't be happier about where he lived. The neighborhood was chock-full of families with children of various ages and the schools were known for their excellent reputation, especially the high school.
Sam pulled his late model silver Camry into the driveway next to Irene's aging Subaru and made a mental reminder to himself to talk to her about getting a new vehicle, something that would be good for the kids. Perhaps a new Toyota Highlander or a Ford Explorer, both of which got excellent gas mileage.
Of course, she would resist, going into detail about how they needed the money for other things, like a new roof for the house, or the kids' college fund. That was one of the things that made him love her so much, however, her being the rare woman whose wants were even less than her husband's. She shopped thrift stores for both herself and the kids and she even made her own jewelry.
As he went through the unlocked front door of the house, the delicious aroma of freshly-done roast beef wafted from the kitchen and filled his nose, making his stomach rumble. This represented another item on the very long list of things he loved about his wife – she could totally throw down in the kitchen. Irene's cooking was so good and so thorough they rarely ate out, even on the weekends. Why deal with crowds and slow service at the restaurants when the food was so much better at home? It was a no-brainer, one his whole family agreed upon.
“Hurray, you made it home by seven!” Irene called out from the kitchen, greeting him with a smile and a hug as soon as he walked in. “Perfect timing, too, I was just about to plate the food.”
She turned to Eliza, their thirteen year-old daughter busy setting the dining table. “Eliza, will you go upstairs and get Jimmy, please? We're about to eat.”
The bright-eyed youngster gave him a brief hug and raced upstairs. Sam turned and looked into his wife's green-brown eyes, admiring their enchanting beauty. He took his hands and ran them through Irene's long, light brown hair, feeling its silky softness on his fingers. Although Sam measured six-two, Irene stood just a few inches shorter than him, being quite tall for a woman.
“Something the matter?” she asked, staring into her husband's face with her large, soulful eyes.
“Quite the opposite. I've been ordered to take a two-week vacation.”
Irene's mouth formed a large “O” of surprise. “A two-week vacation! When?”
Sam let out a light chuckle. “Yes, John's informed me that he's penciled me in for the last week of this month and the first week of August. I'm not even allowed to call in or anything.”
Irene's face lit up with joy. “And it's about time, too! It's been three years since we've taken a decent vacation. Just please tell me that you're not wanting to go to Disney World.”
“Hell, no. That's the last place I'd want to take this family.”
“Where do you want to go, then? You've got your mother's motorhome that's just sitting in her driveway, begging to be used.”
The seed his boss had planted began to sprout in Sam's mind. “John mentioned Yellowstone, and I am beginning to think that'd be a wonderful place to visit. We could go see Mt Rushmore along the way, and spend some time in the Tetons along with Yellowstone. The motorhome would be perfect for that, wouldn't it?”
Irene swooned in front of him, cupping his face with her hands. “Aw, that would be so wonderful. You know how much it'd mean for the kids to do something like this. Going out West sounds like a wonderful idea. But wow, talk about not having much notice. We've only a week to prepare.”
“Well, I'll call my mother tonight and talk to her about the motorhome, make sure it's okay with her. It might be a good idea to drop it off at the dealership tomorrow to have it checked out, considering it hasn't been driven in a while.”
Irene pulled away and made a beeline for the wine rack, pulling out a bottle of her favorite Shiraz. “This calls for a little celebration, don't you think?”
Sam shrugged his shoulders as he eased over to the supper table
, more concerned about getting food in his growling stomach than quaffing a glass of wine.
A few minutes later, when Eliza and sixteen year-old Jimmy made it to the dinner table, Sam allowed everyone, including himself, to eat a few bites of food and then cleared his throat to get the attention of his children. “I have an announcement to make.”
Jimmy made direct eye contact with him, which could almost be considered a miracle these days. “Yeah, what's up?” he said between bites of scalloped potatoes.
“Yeah, Daddy. What's the big announcement?” Eliza added.
Pausing just a bit longer to build up tension, he said, “We're going out West for vacation, starting next weekend.”
“Just for one week?” Jimmy asked with a look of curiosity and excitement.
“No, two.”
Jimmy's long face exhibited a look of surprise and excitement. “No B.S.'ing? Two weeks, really? We gonna take the motorhome?”
“I'm going to call Grammy tonight to ask if she doesn't mind, which I seriously doubt she will. We'll have to get it checked out, so we'll put it on the project list for tomorrow morning.”
Turning to face Eliza to make sure she wasn't being left out, he said, “So, what do you think sweetie? Does that sound like a fun idea to you or what?”
She shrugged her shoulders and said, “Where will we go?”
“Lots of places. Your mom and I were talking about seeing Mt Rushmore, the mountain with the four Presidents carved in them.”
She waved a hand in a poo-poo gesture at him. “I know what Mt Rushmore is, Daddy. It's the stone carvings of George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Theodore Roosevelt and Abraham Lincoln. In that order.”
His daughter's intelligence never failed to amaze him. “Very impressive, Eliza. So I was thinking we could visit there and then head over to Yellowstone National Park, and maybe the Grand Tetons as well. That way we can get some of that clean, fresh mountain air for you.” Eliza, sadly, suffered from severe, chronic asthma, which seemed to worsen each year. This limited her from performing many outdoor activities during summer, when the air quality was poor, and she often required daily nebulizer treatments.