by Jordan Rivet
“That right?”
“Only tellin’ you what the radio says. Here you go, little one. Extra cinnamon for you.”
“Thanks!” Esther wrapped her small hands around the crinkly paper. Simon handed the pastry man a few bills. He was still telling Ed about what the radio host had said as Simon and Esther walked off toward the waterfront promenade.
The breeze picked up, sifting the sounds of the busy harbor in to land. Sunlight bounced off steel and sea. The glassy harbor sparkled, tossing reflections like confetti. Flat-gray navy ships stalked past sleek white yachts. Lumbering fishing boats cut momentary tracks through the water as they returned from their early-morning work. A San Diego Bay tour boat disgorged passengers in their path.
Simon breathed deeply. He pushed Morty and tenure and expensive dental work out of his head. He wished he and Esther could play hooky from school every day. This was why they had moved to California. The sea. The sunshine. The way you could stroll along the harbor even at rush hour on a Tuesday morning and not feel out of place.
Esther swallowed a huge bite of her pastry. She wore a fuzzy mustache of cinnamon on her lip. She chattered to Simon about the birthday party she would be going to at the Sambergs’ that weekend.
“Joey says we can win candy in the games. And there will be a real popcorn machine. In their backyard!”
“That sounds fun,” Simon said. “Is everyone from your class going?”
Esther’s nose twitched. “I guess so.” She took another bite of pastry, looking pensive.
A thin blond girl, probably around college age, jogged past them. Her ponytail flipped back and forth like a pendulum.
Esther looked up at Simon, dark eyes solemn. “Daddy, do you think I look like a boy?”
Simon laughed and patted her right on top of the head. “Of course not. You always look like Esther. Why?”
“It’s nothing.” Esther kicked the toe of her sneakers against a piece of gum ground into the pavement. There was a trail of crumbs on her Thomas the Tank Engine T-shirt.
“Tell me. Did someone say you look like a boy?” Simon pressed.
“Just a girl in my class. She talked about it with her friends. Joey heard them in art.”
Simon sighed. Kids could be cruel, but he didn’t know they started so early.
“Don’t listen to them, button.”
“Namie says I should wear a dress to the party ’stead of shorts. She says then no one will call me a boy.”
“You could do that,” Simon said slowly, wishing he knew how to teach Esther to stand up for herself when he couldn’t even reschedule a meeting with Morty without anxiety clutching at his stomach. “Do you want to wear a dress?”
“No way! I can’t do the three-legged race in a dress!” Esther licked the apple syrup off her fingers.
Simon laughed again. “Okay then. You should wear shorts. Show those girls from school that you’re the best three-legged racer ever.”
Esther nodded solemnly. “Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Why aren’t you going to work today? Did someone say something mean about you?”
“No . . . I’m just a little worried sometimes. I’m afraid I won’t be good at my job.”
The direction of the wind shifted, carrying an odd smell, like rotting eggs mixed with burning rubber. Someone must be having car trouble.
“Well, you should show them you’re the best professor-er ever.”
“Thanks, button. I’ll try.”
The wind blew harder. Gulls swooped over their heads, screeching as they flew toward the sea. There seemed to be more than usual, all heading in the same direction. Strange.
Across the harbor promenade a woman screamed.
Judith
Judith worked up a satisfying sweat as she ran along the waterfront. She started near the south end of North Harbor Drive. She watched the ships as she ran, noting which ones had also been there the previous few days. She always took the same route. Fewer distractions that way.
On the opposite side of the harbor, Coronado Island rested between them and the sea. Judith hadn’t been out there in ages. Maybe she’d have some time after graduation, depending on when her new job started. She would get the job. She’d accept nothing less of herself.
She passed a dock, where a cruise ship waited like a beached whale. A couple of passengers lined up at the gangway, suitcases in tow. One woman wore a flowing peasant skirt and a floppy purple hat. She had long lavender hair. Another held a mousy little boy tightly by the hand. She handed a piece of paper to a skinny ticket agent. Two security guards lounged nearby, giving the suitcases a cursory check before gesturing to the belt of the hulking luggage scanner.
The promenade was busy for this time of morning. Judith ran briskly around strolling elderly couples and dockworkers carrying tools and lunch pails. She passed a man with curly, graying hair and a child in pigtails and a blue T-shirt. Judith wondered why the girl wasn’t in school.
Judith ran on, breathing rhythmically. She had to wait as the crowd from a sightseeing tour boat milled around the promenade. She pinched her lips, irritated at the delay. She bounced up and down to keep her heart rate up until the crowd cleared.
A strong breeze blew a loose strand of Judith’s hair across her face. Gulls cried as they sped overhead toward the water. The little crowd in her way slowed to stare up at the birds.
Tourists. Just as she was about to push through them, someone screamed.
Chapter 2—The Cloud
Simon
Simon looked around for whoever had screamed. A man cursed loudly from the deck of a fishing boat just beyond the promenade rail. Someone leaned on a car horn, releasing a long, loud blast. The strange smell in the air was stronger, like a fire started with too much lighter fluid.
Across the promenade, faces turned toward the city. Simon whirled toward the midsize skyscrapers occupying the waterfront, his senses heightened and alert. Something was very wrong here.
The sky above the city boiled. White, gray, blue, black, even purple. The clouds expanded outward, oozing above the buildings and coalescing into one mass. At its heart the cloud grew darker by the second. But it wasn’t the darkness of a thunderstorm. This cloud was somehow denser, grainier than if it had been composed of mere water vapor.
“What’s going on?” someone yelled.
“Are we getting bombed?”
“Oh God, is it a nuke?”
“What do we do?”
The cloud began to swallow the tops of the buildings, rolling toward them like a breaking wave. Sirens wailed across the city. Ash fell from the cloud like snow. Panicked cries rang out across the harbor front as the cloud sank lower over the buildings. A man far up the street fell to his knees, gasping as the ash enveloped him.
“Esther, we need to go right now,” Simon said, grabbing her hand.
The cloud stretched as far as he could see. There was no way to get back into the city, nowhere to go. Behind them the sea waited.
Esther pointed a sticky finger. Simon looked where she was pointing, then picked her up and ran.
Judith
An avalanche of clouds tipped over the nearest buildings, engulfing them one by one. Judith felt like she’d been extracted from her own body, like there was some other runner on the boardwalk watching a dark cloud of smoke hurtling toward her. This couldn’t be real.
The horns from North Harbor Drive became frantic. Tires screeched, and there was a bang as an SUV tried to force its way through the gridlock. People jumped out of their cars and ran along the street. A man in a Mariners cap bumped into her, then ran past. He reached the railing at the edge of the promenade and jumped straight into the harbor. Others simply stood and stared at the approaching cloud. Ash fell among them and they began to choke.
Suddenly Judith felt herself snapping back into her body. Her heart raced, and fear wrapped a fist around her stomach.
People jostled Judith as they ran in both directions, some of them screa
ming. A few feet away the man with the little girl scooped his daughter into his arms. Others stood, as Judith did, and looked about wildly for somewhere to go. The ground shook then, like a building was being demolished nearby.
The man started to run, carrying the little girl. He moved with more purpose than many of the others. Not sure what else to do, Judith followed him. He seemed calmer than some, and he’d be trying to get his daughter to safety. They bolted along the promenade, back in the direction she’d come from. Should she return to her apartment? It must already be under the cloud. She wanted someone official to tell her where to go, like a police officer or a soldier. The little girl’s pigtails bobbed in front of her. Judith followed them like a beacon.
They reached the gateway to the cruise ship dock. It still sat there, a white floating hotel. The security guards and gate agents had disappeared. The man with the little girl ran toward the ship. Judith followed, along with a dozen others. The smell of ash grew stronger in the air.
Simon
A rumbling sound indicated that someone had fired up the engines of the cruise ship. Simon glimpsed the name Catalina emblazoned on its hull as he took the gangway at a leap. When he reached the deck of the ship, he looked back. The sky was the gray of pencil lead now, the cloud completely obscuring the skyscrapers. The city was being swallowed. Sirens screamed.
Others ran across the gangway after him, a panicked throng trying to get as far away from the cloud as possible. A blond girl in running shoes darted on board, eyes wide in her angular face. A plump woman wearing a cross necklace dragged three sobbing young boys after her onto the ship.
People on the promenade were falling, clutching at their throats, choking. The cloud would reach the ship soon.
“Esther, listen to me,” Simon said. He set her down and knelt to see her face. “You need to go inside and find some stairs. Go as far down into the bottom of the ship as you can. Try to close the door wherever you are.”
“But Daddy—”
“Everything will be fine, button. You have to go now.”
The ash—Simon was sure that’s what it was—crept closer. He hated letting Esther out of his sight, but he had to get her away from the poisonous air. And they needed to move.
“I want Mommy.”
Simon squeezed his eyes shut for a split second. “I’ll call her right now. Go on. Remember to close the door.”
Esther nodded and darted into the ship around a tall black man wearing a crew uniform. Simon mashed the power button on his cell phone. Each second it took to fire up felt like the jab of a switchblade in his stomach.
“Come on, people,” the crewman said. He had a deep smoker’s voice, but he looked young. “We’re casting off. Hurry.” A middle-aged couple, both wearing suits and gripping each other’s hands like lifelines, were some of the last to run on to the ship. The sailor started to crank up the gangway.
“Wait!” A panicked voice reached them. “Please wait!” A heavily pregnant woman jogged toward them, both hands wrapped around her belly. She was tall, with bright-red hair and terror in her eyes. She stumbled.
Simon looked back at the door where Esther had disappeared. He wanted to follow her into the protected depths of the ship, but she was as safe as she could be right now.
The pregnant woman was sobbing.
“I’ll get her. Wait for us,” Simon said to the sailor.
He ran back onto the dock. The woman had fallen to one knee, her arms wrapped around her stomach like she was holding a football. Simon grabbed her arm and helped her stand.
“We need to move,” he said. The woman stared at him wildly, unseeing. They had to be fast. The ship was going to pull away, and his daughter was inside. “Let’s go!”
“I’ll help.”
The blond jogger appeared by his side. She took the pregnant woman’s other arm and helped Simon guide her to the gangway. Still winded from running to the ship, Simon tried not to breathe too much as the ash cloud neared.
“Hurry! We’re moving. I can’t stop it,” the sailor shouted, but he didn’t raise the gangway.
The ship started to creep away from the dock. The gangway scraped along the pavement, getting closer to the edge. In seconds it would pull away from the dock completely. Their chance to escape was slipping away.
The trio wasn’t walking fast enough. Simon made eye contact with the jogger. It was now or never. They lifted the pregnant woman between them, almost dragging her across the pavement.
Almost there. A gap appeared between the gangway and the dock. They were too late! The gap widened. His daughter was on that ship!
“Jump!” Simon gasped.
The jogger didn’t hesitate. They jumped, hoisting the pregnant woman between them. The gangway shuddered under their weight as they landed, but it held. Simon caught a glimpse of the water beneath them, dark in the shadow of the ship. It was at least forty feet down. That would be like falling on concrete.
They scrambled toward the ship, pulling the pregnant woman forward. The young sailor reached out both hands and lifted her onto the deck. Simon and the jogger followed. The gap between the ship and the dock widened.
People further back on the dock screamed for the ship to stop, but it was too far away now. There was no turning back.
Judith
As Judith darted from the gangway to the deck, there was a crash. The ship shuddered violently, tossing her off balance. The man grabbed her arm to keep her from falling. She started to thank him, but he was already helping a tall black sailor lower the pregnant woman onto the deck.
The sailor swore liberally. “Something hit us. I need to check the hull.”
A plump woman wearing a cat angel shirt and a cross necklace rushed forward. She had been huddling just inside the ship with three towheaded boys.
“Let me help. Honey, just breathe. How far along are you?”
The man nodded gratefully and pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. He pressed it to his ear like he was staunching a wound and turned to stare at the clouds consuming the city behind them.
“Eight months,” the pregnant woman said, her eyes the size of dinner plates. “What’s happening?”
“Never mind that now. Breathe in. Breathe out. The Lord’ll watch over us.”
An older woman with lavender hair and a floppy hat joined the plump lady, trying to calm the pregnant woman. She brushed the sweaty hair off the woman’s forehead with tiny hands.
Judith stood frozen beside them, not sure what to do. They were on the promenade deck right beside the ship’s entrance. A gleaming rail ran along the edge of the ship, with a gap for the gangway. A doorway led inside, where there was some sort of check-in area. Dozens of people crowded in the entryway, sobbing, calling out names, and tapping cell phones. A few stared at nothing, in shock. No one seemed to be in charge.
The ship shuddered. They were moving faster. The pregnant woman whimpered and gasped.
“There, there,” said the woman with the lavender hair. “You’re safe here, sweetheart. Just breathe.”
The lady with the cross necklace had both hands pressed against the woman’s stomach, feeling it carefully. She seemed to have things under control, so Judith hurried along the railing toward the bow. There was a wider deck there with an unobstructed view of San Diego. She had to see.
The gray cloud stretched across the sky for miles, bearing down on the city with the weight of Mount Everest. It had become noticeably darker. The cloud ate up the sun, the buildings. They were close enough to the dock to hear people screaming and choking. Some jumped into the harbor to swim.
Boats sprang into motion around them, some sailing erratically, others speeding north. Their ship was heading north too, groaning forward, picking up speed. They sailed parallel to the shore, the ash cloud growing ever closer.
Judith ran to the other side of the ship, across the narrow bow. She realized why they weren’t heading straight out to sea. The harbor curved inward along the coast of San Diego like a crooked f
inger. Coronado Island separated them from the open sea on the left. They were sailing directly toward Point Loma at the mouth of the harbor, but they had to stay close to the shore. Too close.
Up ahead boats clogged the harbor mouth, trying to escape. Ships crashed into each other as they tried to force through the bottleneck. Metal squealed, and shouts and curses filled the air. A few smaller vessels managed to break free and speed out to sea. But this cruise ship was the biggest one around. They’d never make it through.
The wall of cloud neared. Wind whipped across the deck, carrying shouts, a sulfurous stench, and the first grains of ash.
Simon
Tears blinded Simon’s eyes as he hit Redial on his phone again. For the tenth time he heard a blank high note, neither a dial tone nor a busy signal, as if the cell phone network was screaming under the weight of the cloud.
Oh God, Nina. He had to get through.
Simon gripped the railing as the ship crawled along the harbor. A fishing trawler floundered behind them. It had hit the Catalina moments ago, causing that shuddering jolt, and now it was sinking. The fisherman stood on the roof of his cabin, staring up at the shore.
Half the sky was black now. People ran wildly across the harbor front. As the cloud rolled further across the boardwalk, people fell, choking, sobbing, unable to breathe the ash-filled air. The city seemed to shake under the weight of the cloud. Simon watched the ash crawl closer, praying that Esther had found the very deepest corner of the ship.
Naomi. Nina. If they were under that mass . . . He punched the buttons on his phone again.
The wind picked up. It wasn’t the natural landward breeze of a San Diego morning. It was as if the ash rode on a diabolical wave, pushing the clean air before it, gobbling up everything in its path. Simon tasted ash, felt the stinging, glassy grains. He pulled his shirt over his nose and mouth. Around him others did the same.
The phone wailed a dirge into Simon’s ear.
A group of women now surrounded the pregnant lady. She had calmed down a bit, but she was deathly pale.