Seattle Quake 9.2 (A Jackie Harlan Mystery Book 1)

by Marti Talbott

  "Good. Check the phones, will ya? Maybe they're ringing and we can't hear them. Don't forget my cell phone…though I doubt there are any cell towers still up. It takes one every three miles, you know. And see what you can do with the equipment in the studio."

  At last, Collin grinned, "Aye, aye, Captain. Hey, want a soda?"

  "Sure," Max answered. As he worked, he listened to Collin scoot rubbish aside, and then open the refrigerator. Suddenly he noticed something on the floor. Half hidden beneath a chunk of plaster was a picture of Candy and the boys. Thoughtfully, he picked it up and dumped the broken glass out of the frame. He stared at them for a long moment, and then closed his eyes and bowed his head. When he opened his eyes again, Collin stood in the doorway with two cans of soda.

  Any other day, Collin would have snickered at the sight of someone praying and turned away. But today he simply handed Max the soda, and then went back to the window to get his shovel. Tears lined the rims of his eyes.

  *

  Eighteen minutes and forty-six seconds after the first jolt, the fault was still settling into its new position. Small rocks and crushed earth tumbled into voids, and then larger rocks gave way, causing a 6.3 aftershock.

  *

  In Yakima, James spread the map of Seattle across his desk and hunted for Mountlake Terrace. "There!" he said, pointing to a northern suburb just across the Snohomish County line. He yanked his dartboard down, grabbed his tape dispenser, held the map against the wall, and taped all four corners. Next, he searched in his desk for a small box of adhesive dots, found them and placed a tiny red dot on the map near I-5 and 228th Street S, eight miles north of downtown. He held the box out and grinned at his sister. "You're in charge of the dots, okay?"

  Heather's eyes instantly lit up. She took the box, rushed to a steel fold up chair and carried it to the wall.

  Just then, someone on the radio screamed, "Aftershock!"

  "Copy that, NJ, after..." Background noises burst over the radio waves. A child screamed, and the sounds of crashing mixed with the rumbling of the earth.

  *

  At the same time, the thunder and movement in the ground made the shaking of the Winningham Blue Building begin anew. "Come here!" Seely shouted. She waited endless seconds while Jenna struggled to walk in the jostling building. Finally, she grabbed Jenna's arm and pulled her back into the bathroom foyer. The rumble was not as loud. Still, the twisting metal and concrete shrieked as the building rode the waves. Toilet water mixed with glass and plaster bounced across the tile floor and more chunks of ceiling fell. In the hallway, hundreds of feet of dangling wiring dropped from exposed beams and danced with the jousted building. But the top floors did not sway, the sides did not bulge and no more floors collapsed.

  *

  On top of Queen Ann Hill, Collin nearly fell out the window. At the last second, he let go of the shovel, threw his soda in the air and hurled his body toward the center of the room. He crumbled to the floor, and then covered his head with his hands. Above him, the loose ceiling fan renewed a circular motion with its long, wide blades dangerously tipped downward.

  *

  On the golf course, Sam scurried back up a tree. This time the golf ball was in his pocket. He watched for new fissures, but he saw none. He watched with fascination as the golf course rolled like the waves of the sea. His tree bent rhythmically, but he was not in danger and found it oddly thrilling.

  Heather McClurg held her breath and waited. Peaceful Yakima, where the ground had not moved since the initial quake, lay in stark, inconceivable contrast to the horror unfolding in her mind. In silence she watched as the battery operated wall clock ticked off thirty-two seconds. Finally, a woman's stone cold voice came on the air, "K7LIZ."

  "LIZ, this is net control, go ahead."

  "K7LIZ reporting a death in Snohomish County. Name, Bill Wright, age 41, reason, heart attack...My husband, over."

  "K7LIZ copy" For a moment, there was a different, more heartfelt silence. "AP... AP7RB, can you get to her? Over."

  "AP7RB, on my way. I'm about four blocks from her house."

  "Thanks AP7RB. Any more reports of damage? Reports of injury or damage only please, over."

  "W7HEU emergency. We've got a fissure that did not close. I repeat, a huge fissure that did not close. The hill split apart. It's just north of the University of Washington Campus running diagonally across Revena Boulevard. It looks like a giant tear in the earth. It's about half a mile long, fifty or sixty feet across and real deep. I can see part of a house and several people down there, over."

  "Copy. Jeff, can you see the hospital from there? Over."

  "W7HEU, I'm on the wrong side and too far away."

  "Roger HEU. Do you have any help? Over."

  "A couple of guys went to see if they could find some ropes. We've got heavy damage to houses all around me. Cars are buried under buildings, people are trying to crawl out...I don't know who to help first. W7HEU, over."

  "Copy that, Jeff. Keep us advised. This is Net Control, who's next?"

  "NY7E."

  "NY, go ahead."

  "NY7E, heavy damage at Central Elementary School. It's got walls missing, the playground is buckled and the roof collapsed. One injury, not serious. Thank God it's summer."

  Nearly in tears, Heather puckered her lips in a childish pout, "Isn't Net Control going to do anything?"

  James glanced at his sister's sad expression, and then reached over and laid a tender hand on her shoulder, "Net Control isn't supposed to do anything. See, other people are listening too, like police and firemen. When you think about it, it saves everybody a lot of steps. This way, Net Control doesn't have to make any 911 calls. See?"

  Heather nodded. Her eyes brightened, but only a little.

  *

  Sam waited a long time after the earth stopped moving to breathe a sigh of relief and climb down out of the tree, "You know Lord, Max is all I've got. Max, Candy and the kids. Annie, she's up there with you. Course, you already know that." He removed his golf cap, smoothed his white hair and pulled his cap back on. He adjusted it slightly and looked around for the safest route to the clubhouse, and then headed off on the long walk from the 18th hole. "If you let them live, I promise to confess, openly, to the whole world. I'll tell them I'm a fake, a fraud and a liar."

  Abruptly, he stopped walking and winced. "Well now, maybe not a fraud. That wouldn't set well with my customers. Liar's okay though, people expect that from a banker." He puffed his cheeks, blew his breath out and renewed his clumsy walk across the broken ground near the slanted trees. "And if you let me live, I promise..."

  *

  Still crumpled on the floor with his hands over his head, Collin waited for the last tinkle of glass to stop. Slowly, he removed his hands, lifted his head and cautiously looked up. Max was standing above him, holding the ceiling fan with both hands. Relieved, he rolled over on his back and allowed his body to relax. "You got earthquake insurance?"

  "No," Max answered. He yanked hard and the ceiling fan came lose. He studied the wiring a second, and then leaned the fan against the wall. "Earthquake insurance is expensive and I didn't really think it would happen."

  "Me either." Grudgingly, Collin sat up, and then got to his feet. "The book says the aftershocks last a week or more. I vote we pull the rest of the ceiling down before it kills us."

  "Good idea. Hop to it man, I'm going down to check the generators." With that, Max headed out the door. His shoulder length, blond hair was filled with sweat and dirt. And out of Collin's sight his blue eyes revealed growing pain.

  Collin watched Max leave, looked up and surveyed what little was left of the cracked and broken plaster, "Might I remind you, I'm a radio announcer not a carpenter." He shrugged, found an overturned stool and climbed up. Thoughtfully, he grabbed hold of a one-foot section and yanked. It fell to the floor with ease, barely missing his console and giving rise to thousands of dust particles. Collin quickly closed his eyes. He waited a moment, and then brushed the di
rt out of his hair and reached for the next section. This time he shoved until if fell away from what was left of his damaged console. As soon as the dust cleared, he turned to look at the smashed phone. None of the ten lines were lit up. Nevertheless, he climbed down, picked up the receiver and listened. The phone was dead.

  *

  Just moments after the rapid, unmerciful bouncing of the last aftershock ended, Jenna and Seely heard a huge, frightening crash somewhere beyond the Winningham Blue Building. The boom reverberated inside the grossly damaged building, echoing again and again before their world quieted. Even so, both women continued to hold their breaths – listening, wondering, fearing and trying to remember to breathe.

  Finally Jenna scooted away from Seely and coaxed her sore body back into a more comfortable sitting position. "What was that?"

  "I have no idea. It sounded like..." Seely paused to contemplate her words.

  "A building fell?"

  "Yes."

  The quiet lasted but a few seconds more before the building groaned, and then see-sawed north to south in an effort to settle back on its foundation. Terrified, Seely stiffened her legs against the weakened foyer wall and braced herself. Almost instantly, the pain in her chest returned. Jenna screamed, and then curled into a ball and began to sob inconsolably. But the seesaw did not last and the building held.

  Tim's faint and muffled voice again drifted down the hallway, "Help! Anybody up here?"

  Seely tried to shout. But her scratchy, unrecognizable voice came out weak and useless. She turned instead to the frightened, weeping girl, "Jenna,... stop crying. Answer…him."

  "We're going to die. We're all going to die." With that, Jenna burst into a new round of sobs.

  "Fine. We'll just die."

  Slowly, Jenna lifted her head and looked into Seely's determined eyes. "We can't just leave him there." She brushed at her tears and sniffed her nose, "Timmy? We hear you Timmy."

  "Louder, Jenna."

  She drew in a deeper breath and started to get up off the floor. "Timmy?"

  "Jenna?"

  "Yes. We're coming Timmy."

  "Thank God. I'm stuck."

  Jenna sniffed her nose again and made her way into the narrow hallway. The heavy metal filing cabinets still lay half tipped with their drawers spilled. She stooped down, grabbed an armload of loose files and flung them down the hall. "Timmy, the hall's blocked. You'll have to wait a minute."

  Tim's muted voice came back almost cheerful, "Am I glad to hear your voice. I'd love to help, but I'm a little indisposed.”

  Jenna got down on her knees, shoved more files aside and then stood up and tried to lift the first cabinet. Still too heavy. She reached in the top drawer, grabbed another armload of files and set them on the floor. When the drawer was half empty, she shoved it back into place, turned the lock and started on the second drawer.

  "Hey Jenna, what's taking so long?"

  "Be patient Timmy, I'm doing the best I can."

  "Well speed it up, will ya? A guy could die out here."

  Jenna stopped, put her hands on her hips and turned to look at Seely, "Still think we should help him?" But when she turned, Seely looked ghostly white and was tightly holding her left arm again. "Is it your heart?"

  She tried, but the words wouldn't leave her lips so she simply nodded.

  Jenna quickly found Seely's purse, unscrewed the cap, poured another small pill into Seely's palm, and watched her put it under her tongue. She waited until it appeared the pill was taking effect, and then screwed the cap back on the bottle. Next, she examined the cut on Seely's head. The bleeding had almost stopped. Jenna made her way into the bathroom, came back with a wad of toilet paper and started cleaning Seely's face.

  "Go help Timmy."

  "But what about you? I can't leave you."

  "Go."

  Jenna hesitated, turned and went back down the hall. This time, she attempted to climb over the cabinets. At first, she slid and fell back on the slippery metal, reaching too late for a cable dangling from the ceiling. Her already bruised body cried out in pain and she moaned in misery. She closed her eyes, relaxed her body and waited for the aching to subside. Finally, she grabbed hold of the cable and pulled herself up. Using it for support, she carefully walked across the tilted cabinets and hopped down. "Tim? Timmy, where are you?"

  "Over here!"

  She pushed more rubble aside with her feet and more wiring out of the way with her hands, quickly passing the heavy steel stairway door. Horrified by what she saw, Jenna took a careful step into the Kitchenette. All the blue tinted windows were gone and the feel of fresh air so high off the ground made her skin crawl. Near the south wall, a section of the floor sagged, offering a horrifying view of the mangled and twisted I-5 freeway "S" curves. In the distance, columns of smoke drifted upward from large and small fires. Stunned, her words just barely came out, "Where Timmy?"

  His voice was still muffled, but louder, "Over here." The rubble in the room was piled high on one side. Desks, filing cabinets and equipment were shrouded in miles of paper, wiring and fallen plaster. A huge steel I-beam stood in the middle of the large room, its bare metal exposed. Clumps of broken cement lay in clusters around it. Splintered boards hung precariously and all but one landscape painting lay on the floor in ruins. The kitchenette bar was tilted outward, the refrigerator door was open and ruptured pop cans added their sticky liquid to the carnage. But the microwave was still in its built-in cabinet and looked completely unharmed.

  Mesmerized, Jenna took another step toward the microwave. Not one scrape or scratch marred the tinted black door.

  "Hey, you gonna help me or not?" Tim shouted.

  "I can't see you."

  "Well I can see you…your feet anyway. I'm under a desk. There's another desk in front of me."

  Jenna stared at the horde of desks crunched together on the east side of the room. "Are you hurt?" Timidly, she started over the rubble.

  "I'm bleeding. I didn't duck fast enough. Reflexes must be slowing down. Course we were falling at the time and that might have caused the delay. The window exploded and the glass got me in the face. Is Seely okay, I heard her scream?"

  "I think she's having a heart attack. Keep talking so I can find you. Are you cut bad?"

  "Well, let's put it this way. My wife used to call me pretty boy Floyd. Now I'll be scar face. Don't worry. She'll love me just the same…if she's still alive."

  *

  James McClurg slowly moved the radio's tuning dial until he reached the desired, non-emergency frequency. "W7LGF, this is KB7HD, over." He paused, but heard only weak voices, transmitted on a frequency close to his. He adjusted the dial and tried again. "W7LGF, this is KB7HD. Max, can you hear me?"

  Heather sat on the metal chair with four red dots stuck on the tip of each finger on her left hand, "Is he the one who taught you how to hook up free Cable TV."

  "Uh huh. And if you tell Mom and Dad, I'll string you up. "W7LGF, this is KB7HD, Max? " Nothing. James eyed his cluttered bookcase and then grabbed his ARRL Manual. He quickly turned the pages until he found a list of emergency frequencies. With the snap of his wrist, he ripped the page out and laid it on the desk. He turned the dial, found the designated Yakima frequency and spoke into the mike, "W7CC, this is KB7HDX, over. W7CC, this is KB7HDX."

  "Who's W7CC?" Heather asked.

  "Boyd Smith, the section manager."

  Finally, an answer came over the radio. "W7CC. Hey kid, what's up?"

  "KB7HDX. Haven't you heard? Seattle had the big one. 9.1 on the Richter Scale."

  "You're kidding. I've been up on the roof fixing the repeater. Come to think of it, I did feel something. Thought it was the wind. It's Saturday, there's nobody here at the courthouse except me. Are you available? Over."

  "KB7HDX, you bet, over."

  "Standby KB, let’s see how fast we can staff this place."

  "Copy Net control, KB7HDX out." James moved his mouth away from the mike and stared at his desk. Even without h
omework, the desktop was covered. It held electronic manuals, magazine articles and hand written notes. "They'll use the more experienced guys to staff the courthouse."

  "What'll we do, then?"

  "Pass messages along to other stations. In the disaster area, guys will have their hands full with injury and damage reports, but out here away from Seattle, hundreds, maybe thousands of people are gonna wanna know if their families are alright."

  Heather sighed. "I'd rather listen to what's happening. Can't you find that one channel again?"

  "Frequency, you mean? Sure."

  CHAPTER 9

  In the middle of the largest room on the forty-third floor, Jenna suddenly froze. The world was moving again and she was at least ten feet from the kitchenette. The building rose, humped, dipped down and then shuddered. She turned and started back, but as abruptly as it began, the earth stopped moving. "Timmy?"

  "What? You think I'm going somewhere? Get me out of here Jenna before I lose my lunch!"

  Jenna rolled her eyes and headed back toward the desks. "You do and I'll tell everyone I know what a coward you are. Just hold on, I'm doing the best I can." A large, overturned bookcase blocked one corner of the first desk and its contents blocked the other. First, she tried moving the bookcase. When it didn't budge, she began tossing the thick accounting records out of the way, scattering the unbound papers. Finished, she scooted rubbish off the desk and knocked on the top. "You hear that?"

  "Yes. I must be farther back than I thought…maybe two desks."

  Jenna cleared a space on the floor, got down on her knees and peeked under the desk. Instantly, she reeled back in horror. His face was covered with blood and she could only see one eye. Feverishly, she began scooting more debris out of the way. She tried to stay calm, but her cracking voice betrayed her approaching tears, "The good news is, you're only one desk back after all. The bad news is..."

  "Yes? Go on."

  "You're probably gonna bleed to death before I get you out."

  "No, no, won't bleed to death. It doesn't run in the family. Besides, I think most of the cuts are only skin deep. Maybe one or two worth fretting over, but I've still got my neck. Juggler veins are working perfectly and..."