Three desks back, Pat Timberly peeked over a mountain of printed reports. "Just gotta run these off, then I'm done."
Seely quickly made her way across the room, "No, you have to go now!" She darted across the hall and into her office, and then raced around her desk, yanked open a bottom drawer, and grabbed her purse. Soon, she was back in the large, center room. But when she looked, Pat was still standing there -- staring at her. "I'm dead serious. Put those down and go home."
"Okay," Pat said. She set the papers back on her desk, grabbed a backpack and disappeared down the outer corridor.
Seely looked at Jenna's empty desk, and then quickly glanced around. Just as she turned, the door to the walk-in-vault opened and Tim Garton came out. "What are you doing here?"
Tim smiled and sarcastically curled the corners of his mouth, "If you must know, I came to steal all the money." Young and muscular, Tim mockingly bowed, and then twirled the corner of his imaginary mustache. He had a full head of red hair, brown eyes and a silly grin.
"Timmy, go home…please."
"Oh I get it, you don't trust me."
"This is not a joke, I'm worried. Outside, the animals are acting strange and I think we're going to have an earthquake."
"Earthquake?"
"Just humor me and go home. Please."
"Well, since you put it like that." Tim closed the vault door, locked it and headed for his desk. He sat down and quickly began flipping off all his printers and computer equipment.
Finally, Seely spotted Jenna in the kitchenette pulling pop cans out of a carton, and then shoving them in the refrigerator. She hurried back across the large room.
Jenna grinned and brushed blond hair off her forehead, "I hate hot pop on a Monday morning." She was a pretty girl, with a teenage figure and a matching giggle, wearing a soft green short set.
Seely leaned down, took the pop out of her hand, set it on the counter, and closed the refrigerator door. "You won't even be here Monday."
"Yes, but you will."
"I appreciate the thought, but I'd rather have you gone. Go get your things. And do it quickly."
Jenna stared into Seely's serious eyes for a moment, and then got up. "What's wrong?" But Seely muttered something she didn't understand, walked through the kitchenette and disappeared into the center hall. As soon as she was out of sight, Jenna shrugged and went back to filling the refrigerator with pop.
On her left, Seely walked past the heavy steel door leading to the stairs and then three upright file cabinets. She paused outside the woman's bathroom, stared at the door nervously, and then sighed, "Settle down. It's a false alarm…it must be." With that, she opened the door to the ladies room, stepped inside, tossed her purse on the counter, and headed into a stall. "Some things can't wait."
The time was 4:18.
Crossing three zones, Evan Cole wasn't sure what time it was and didn't care. He was in the first class window seat of a Boeing 757 somewhere over Washington State. Outside, the view of thick wooded mountains and deep valleys went unnoticed. Instead he stared aimlessly, reliving the last night he spent with Christina. She was wearing a long flowing dress when he took her gloved hand and led her onto the dance floor. He’d looked long into her loving eyes, touched her glistening black hair, and then took her in his arms. Even now, he could still hear the music and smell her perfume.
*
In the sound proof booth, Max logged onto the Internet, and then located a national news service. In disbelief, he narrowed his eyes and read the lead story. "Prophet predicts earthquake in Seattle." Suddenly, his eyes lit up. He pushed the print icon and waited. Ten seconds later, the story printed out. He scanned the page, located the letters KMPR, and then tossed the paper on his desk. Using his mouse, he copied the page, pasted it into an email and sent it to Collin in the next room.
Collin was on the air and engrossed in a phone conversation with an elderly man recounting a war story. Instinctively, he opened his e-mail and allowed his eyes to dart down the page. Not only did the story mention Max, the Prophet and the predictions, but his name was in bold print. Grinning, he turned to look at Max through the sound proof window. Max had on a paper party hat and his eyes were crossed.
The time was 4:23.
*
In the lobby of the Winningham Blue Building, the flower deliveryman waited for an elevator to take him up to the forty-third floor.
*
Less than two weeks earlier, the vertical shelf of the northern wall yielded to the hairline crack, and then shattered causing the 4.3 quake. On this day, it was again the massive northern wall that began to give under the unfathomable pressure of a continuously whirling world. A new, more profound -- longer and deeper hairline fracture appeared in the snag. Seconds later, the solid rock ledge fragmented, sending a multitude of fractures in all conceivable directions, until it abruptly disintegrated. The instant collapse of thousands of tons of rock created a massive explosion and sent the noise, and the first earthquake jolt on its way through 33 kilometers of earth – toward the water in the bay and the foundations of the city of Seattle.
*
Seely Ross was worried. Her nerves were on edge, the short hairs on her neck felt as though they were standing straight out and never had she washed and dried her hands so quickly. She grabbed her purse and headed toward the door.
A short three blocks away, the water in Elliott Bay began to swirl and churn. All over Seattle, birds took flight, dogs panicked and cats ran for cover.
Seely opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom. But her right foot took a fraction of a second too long to reach the floor. Instantly, she drew in a sharp, urgent breath and her eyes widened with terror. She filled her lungs and with all her might she screamed, "Jenna!"
Alarmed by the elder woman's scream, Jenna shoved the refrigerator door closed and ran out of the kitchenette into the hallway. Seely's face was filled with an unfamiliar, frightening expression and for a moment, Jenna hesitated. But as soon as she neared, the older woman grabbed both her arms, turned her and shoved her into the small bathroom foyer. "What…what is it?"
Seely's face grew ghastly white. Even so, she managed to close the bathroom door, brace her back against it, and then pull Jenna to the floor. Just as she began to answer, the sudden, colossal, heart-stopping explosion erupted from the bowels of the earth.
Suddenly, the city came alive with motion. The southern wall of the fault hurled its gigantic bulk upward ten feet. At the same time, it shifted twenty-seven feet away from the water – carrying with it the Kingdome, Safeco Field, Pioneer Square, the Coast Guard Museum, large and small businesses, the railroad station, the fire station, China Town, the southern end of the bus tunnel, the southern end of I-5, railroad tracks, four skyscrapers, and the Smith Tower. Like a row of falling dominos, the tops of the tall buildings leaned toward the water, and then snapped back with unthinkable cruelty, hurling everything within them against eastern walls.
The earth's horrendous discharge reached the 43 floor of the Winningham Blue Building at exactly thirty-seven seconds past 4:26 p.m. Instantly, the lights flickered and went off plunging Seely and Jenna into total darkness. A tenth of a second after the southern wall lifted and moved away from the water, the northern wall dropped, causing the other two thirds of the city to abruptly sink. At the same time it fell, the northern wall shifted thirty feet into the Bay -- and the foundation of the Winningham Blue Building moved with it.
The rapid motion caused the building to free-fall at an angle, and then come to a crashing halt. Impacted steel and concrete screamed in agony. Hundreds of windows simultaneously shattered, flinging lethal shards of glass outward, and then down forty-seven floors to the ground below. The bathroom door burst off its hinges and fell into the hallway taking Seely with it. Plastic covers over ceiling lights ruptured, the wall mirror exploded and water bounced free of toilets. Displaced dust threatened to choke their breathing and with the door now missing, tiny splinters of glass glistened in the af
ternoon sunlight. The overburdened seventh and eighth floors collapsed in swift succession, causing Seely and Jenna to fall straight down once more. Endless, dreamlike fractions of time passed before the parking garages, the sub-levels and the first six floors grudgingly absorbed the building's grisly weight.
Just as the southern portion of the city leaned west, the northern part leaned east. And the sudden displacement of the foundation caused the top of the Winningham Blue Building to dangerously tip away from the water. Only four floors from the top and with Jenna's arms around her, Seely began to slide across the fallen door into the hallway. Then the top floors snapped back, lifting the door and throwing both women back into the bathroom.
Seely’s eyes bulged and her arms flailed for something to grasp. But the foyer offered nothing.
*
On the waterfront, artificial fill turned to Jell-O and a vast chunk of land instantly sank taking restaurants, terminals, parking lots, a trolley, and the Alaskan Freeway with it. Suddenly displaced, the water in Elliott Bay began drawing away from the shore, pulling small and large ships from their moorings.
Soon after, the steep incline of the second block began to crumble and slide toward the Bay. High-rise apartment buildings teetered, and then broke into splintered sections. Small parks and adjacent streets quickly succumbed to the eroding earth, snapping buried water pipes, sewer pipes, telephone cables and power lines. In unison, a stretch of land one block wide and five city blocks long started a painful slide into the sunken waterfront. Saturday shoppers lost their balance, fell to the ground, and then became buried in moving earth and debris. Others tumbled off high walkways while driver-less cars rolled down hills. Atop the rising waters of the bay, a ferry urgently blasted its’ horn.
Five blocks east of the water, hundreds of small yellow tiles snapped off the ceiling of the Convention Center tunnel all at once. The freeway began to twist and turn, cement behind the tiles cracked, and then crumbled – sending unthinkable, horrifying chunks down on helpless motorists. Coming fast from behind, the drunk in the station wagon plowed into the back of a hatchback and started a chain reaction, multiple car pileup.
The first gigantic jolt raced through the city at 14,000 miles per hour. In the Seattle Center, flag poles shuddered and swayed, the Center House buckled, the Space Needle leaned and children screamed. South of Seattle, Boeing's runway violently rolled, sending the still moving 777 off the end and into a field. Parents helplessly watched their children fall off water slides and amusement rides, and old wood and brick buildings collapsed in rapid succession.
*
At KMPR, only forty-six blocks from the epicenter, everything popped at once -- the walls, the floor, the windows, and the ceiling. The old soldier was still talking, but Collin wasn't listening. Instead, his eyes darted around the room. He too heard the explosion in the ground. Collin threw his earphones down and started out of his chair.
*
One hundred and twenty-one blocks north of KMPR, Sam Taylor stood near the eighteenth hole, wet his finger and tested the air. There was no wind. He set his golf ball on the small plastic tee, carefully placed his feet, wiggled his butt, and took a swing. He missed. But the ball flipped into the air anyway. It dropped back to earth, rolled in the opposite direction and oddly picked up speed. Greatly disturbed, Sam watched it cross the green toward two other men with equally perplexed expressions. But before the ball reached them, it mysteriously dropped out of sight.
Suddenly, the ground split apart. In an instant, the fracture widened causing both men to lose their balance and plunge into the deep, foreboding fissure headfirst. Sam started to take a step toward them, but just as suddenly, the ground under him shot up, buckling him at the knees. Next, came the horrifying rumble in the earth.
*
Downtown, horrendous shock waves quickly replaced the initial jolt. The deadly rolls forced one side of the city to rise one fifth of a second before the other. The top floors of the tall buildings swayed forward and back, while the middle floors bulged one way, and then the other – straining to keep up with the rapid movement of the foundations.
In the Bay, the churning water was still drawing away from the sunken waterfront. In the marinas, more boats snapped off moorings and joined sailboats, ferries, fishing vessels and cargo ships in the deadly upsurge of a massive wave. Directly across from the waterfront, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers and grandparents on the beaches of West Seattle stared, unable to take their disbelieving eyes off the murderous rising water. Others struggled against the viciously thrashing ground to run inland. And still, the water climbed.
*
The sway of the top floors of the Winningham Blue Building caused Seely to slide into the inside wall of the bathroom foyer, only to slide back out the door again. Jenna's head banged against a wall one moment and her knees knocked against another the next. She screamed, "Momma!" But the unyielding, relentless rumbling in the earth coupled with the heinous discord of the tortured building muted her cry. Ceiling tiles broke free and pitched downward, exposing steel rafters and gray insulation. Blood gushed from the top of Seely's forehead and began to run down the side of her face. Another tile hit her left jaw, causing an immediate red mark that would soon bruise.
In the rooms beyond, the extreme sway of the top floors caused pictures to swing away from walls only to slam back again. Desks repeatedly shifted from side to side, inching ever closer to windowless outside walls. Computer equipment toppled, plaster crumbled, file cabinets fell and papers whipped into a sea of white. And still the earth heaved, the building screeched and the thunder roared.
*
The giant shock waves expanded in a perfect circle causing Seattle's hills, suburbs and waterways to violently and repeatedly pitch. Not long after, precariously placed cans and jars fell off shelves in Portland, Oregon. Windows cracked, loose bricks toppled and people ran out of buildings in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. Just off the coast of Washington, a ship lost at sea in 1856 rolled on its side. In Yakima and Spokane, wood split and foundations cracked. In Boise, Idaho dogs yelped and cats scurried out of rooms. Swimming pools jiggled in Northern California, and before the earth fully absorbed the initial quake, a church bell rang in Mexico City.
*
Under Seattle, only a fraction of a second passed before the next mammoth wave hit, and then the next and the next -- each churning, twisting, rolling, heaving -- and violently moving everything on the face of the earth with it.
In KMPR's attic, the glass in both the booth and the outer windows shattered the instant the first wave hit. Only half out of his seat, Collin struggled to keep his balance. His mike tipped over and his console bounced a foot high with his arm and elbow banging against it. The hanging Dallas Cowboy replicate swung wildly and the ceiling fan increased an exaggerated circular motion. He took a step toward the stairs. But the convolutions made his foot take too long to hit the floor, and then his knee was higher than it should have been. He took another step and another, each time at war to keep his balance, but movement was slow and excruciatingly difficult.
His facial muscles tightened and his whole body shook with fright, but when his foot sank again, he lunged for the doorknob. The upward movement of the room caused him to miss and nearly fall on his face. He regained his balance, braced his feet, reached for the knob again, got hold of it and yanked. But the twisting, buckling walls made the door rapidly tilt this way and that; throwing it out of alignment and making it impossible to open. Collin froze. Wall and ceiling plaster cracked, and then crumbled to the floor and the dangerous swinging ceiling fan hung just over his head. Suddenly, the electrical rubber casing around the fan’s cord split down one side exposing blue, black and red wires.
Objects fell off shelves and repeatedly bounced on the floor. A book slid forward, and then back and the horrendous roar in the earth seemed to be increasing. At last, he noticed a hand gripping his leg.
Crouched just inside the sound proof booth, even Max's sho
uts were lost in the thunder. One arm protectively over his head, Max ignored the control room door relentlessly banging against his body, let go of Collin's leg and motioned him down.
Reluctantly, Collin obeyed and sunk to his knees.
"She's not down there!" Max shouted. But Collin returned with a blank stare. Max drew closer and tried again, "She's not down there, man!"
Finally, Collin understood. On all fours, he fought the ferocious arching of the building, inched his way into the control room and crept under Max's console. He was too tall, and the bouncing movement caused his head to bang against the underside of the table. He lowered his head, only to find his shoulders taking the blows. Collin leaned forward, wrapped his arms around a bolted metal leg and glanced back. Max was lying on his side in the fetal position with his hands folded over his head.
More plaster plunged to the floor, its white powder sending clouds of choking dust into the air. The continuous rumble in the earth sounded like a high-speed freight train, no farther than an arm's length away. Finally, the phone booth-sized, teetering transmitter shifted and fell, hitting the console, and then crashing to the floor. Collin panicked and spun his body around. He shoved the equipment away with his feet and started out.
But Max lunged for Collin's shoulders. He pulled him back under the console just seconds before the hanging light fixture dropped to the floor, sending exploding bits of plastic in all directions. "No, man, you'll die out there!"
"We'll die in here!" Collin struggled, but Max held on. The heavy amplifier bounced, thrashed and slid closer. Something wet began pouring over the edge of the console, its liquid flowing at odd angles. More chunks of ceiling plaster fell from above, shattering on the transmitter before bouncing to the floor.
Seattle Quake 9.2 (A Jackie Harlan Mystery Book 1) Page 6