by Bobby Akart
“How long has he been out?”
“Forty-eight hours,” replied Jake, who received a reassuring nod from Ashby. She was focused on the care Dusty was receiving and happily allowed the less emotional Jake to deal with the medical team. “We’ve used a Hydrate mixture to moisten his mouth and throat, but other than that, he hasn’t had any fluids.”
The doctor glanced at his nurse as he pulled a mini-flashlight from his medical coat pocket. “Add the dextrose. Let’s take a look at his eyes. Good, no variation between left and right. Has he stopped breathing at any point?”
“No.”
“What about seizures or spasms?”
“No, sir.”
“Does he appear to react to any external stimuli, which has changed his level of consciousness?”
“No. When I set his broken forearm, he didn’t react at all, and that had to hurt.”
The doctor raised his eyebrows and nodded his head. He assisted the nurses in affixing an oxygen mask to Dusty’s face and watched as they checked his vitals.
Jake continued. “His blood pressure has remained fairly steady at one hundred over seventy.”
“That’s low, but not dangerously so,” said the doctor. “What about body temp?”
“It began to rise above ninety-nine for the first time yesterday. I haven’t checked it today.”
The doctor continued to inspect Dusty’s wounds and broken bones, and all of the splints and dressings applied to his injured body, while the trio of medical personnel worked diligently to address each issue.
Jake hugged Ashby, who became distraught at the amount of bruising and below-the-skin hemorrhaging Dusty had experienced. They had changed his clothes twice in the caverns because he’d soiled them as his bladder released. However, the low light in the chamber hadn’t given them a true picture of the beating Dusty had taken.
The doctor sighed and turned to them. “Dusty, is that right?”
“Yes,” replied Ashby.
“Okay, you folks have done an admirable job keeping this young man alive. Our facility deals primarily with mining accidents, and this resembles the kind of injuries we see often, although Dusty has them all at once. He must have taken quite a beating. Helicopter crash, you say?”
Ashby looked to Jake as he answered, “Yes, sir. We were traveling west from Yellowstone to Northern California when the chopper experienced engine failure. We crashed about thirty miles west of here atop Sheep Mountain.”
“Are you sure?” asked the doctor skeptically.
Jake nodded and replied, “Yes.” He pulled the Garmin out of his pocket to show the doctor, but the physician raised his hand, declining to see the evidence.
“Walked? Carrying him on that stretcher?” he questioned.
“Yes, although we coasted in a disabled car part of the way, which turned out to be a very bad idea.”
“Well, this is an incredible survival story that you were not only able to survive the crash, but then hike down to Challis.”
Ashby hung her head and tears began to flow. “Not all of us survived.”
The doctor took a deep breath and apologized. “I’m sorry, miss. We will do everything we can to make sure Dusty pulls through. We have lots of tests to run, focusing on his head injuries for now. Why don’t you get settled in our waiting area, so we can get Dusty into the imaging and diagnostics room? I’ll make arrangements for you to stow your gear in my office.”
Ashby nodded, and Jake wrapped his arm around her, drawing her closer to his body.
“Thanks, Doc. Just let us know if you need us.”
Chapter 30
Challis, Idaho
Jake escorted Ashby down the hallway until they reached the opening. Another nurse was manning the reception desk and motioned them to come over. As they came into view, the state trooper approached them. The man’s eyes darted back and forth from Ashby, back to Jake, and then toward their hands. Jake realized what the problem was.
“Nurse, could we have just a moment first?” asked Jake as he leaned over the counter.
She replied apologetically, “Um, sure. I just need to get some basic information so I can get the patient registered.”
“Sure, just a moment,” Jake added. He turned around to address the state trooper, who was only a few feet away. Jake read his name badge and then extended his hand. “Trooper Hastings, my name is Jake Wheeler. I am a law enforcement ranger at Yellowstone.”
The trooper reluctantly removed his hand from his sidearm and provided Jake a firm handshake.
Ashby shook hands with the trooper as well. “Dr. Ashby Donovan, sir. I’m a volcanologist.”
The man’s deep voice resembled James Earl Jones’s. “I’m Elmore Hastings with the Idaho State Police.” He lowered his voice as he continued. “Please don’t take offense, but I need to ask you about your weapons.”
Jake nodded. “Trooper Hastings, I completely understand. I have my identification in my pocket. These weapons are service-issued by my command or from my personal collection. I can assure you, we are not a threat.”
Hastings replied, “If you don’t mind, may I see your identification?”
Jake presented his ID and Ashby knelt down to find hers in her backpack.
The trooper interrupted her. “Ma’am, that won’t be necessary. Your shirt will suffice.”
Ashby looked up, thanked him and zipped the pockets back up.
The trooper turned his attention back to Jake. He handed back Jake’s laminate identification card. He asked about Jake’s rifle.
“Full auto? Looks like the one I was issued at Bost Airfield in Afghanistan. I was part of the military police contingent during Operation Resolute Support.”
“Marine?” asked Jake.
“No, regular Army. I was part of an eight-hundred-man training brigade and military advisory group based in Fort Polk, Louisiana. Former Sargent Elmore Hastings, 1st Security Force Assistance Brigade.”
“Well, sir, thank you for your service,” said Jake as he shook the man’s hand again.
“Mr. Wheeler, when I was deployed, we had to work side by side with Afghan forces and personnel. Honestly, it took a while to determine if they were friendlies or if a jihadist had infiltrated them. I became pretty good at differentiating between the threats and the good guys. My gut tells me you and Dr. Donovan are the good guys.”
Ashby laughed. It warmed Jake’s heart to see her cast aside her depressed mood over Dusty’s condition. “We’d like to think so, although some of my colleagues would disagree. I can assure you we’re not a physical threat to anybody.”
“Sir?” interrupted the nurse.
Jake turned around and held up his finger, indicating he’d be right there. He turned to the trooper. “If you’d give me just a minute to give this nice lady some information, maybe you could fill us in on what’s happening around the country.”
Ashby looked around the hulk of a man toward the cushioned seating positioned in a semicircle around a bookcase. “Is that a TV?”
“Oh, yeah,” the trooper replied. “They’ve had their eyes glued to CNN the entire time. A lot has happened, needless to say.”
“Sir, please,” the nurse was insistent.
“Okay, okay.” Jake gave the trooper a thumbs-up and led Ashby over to the counter.
After Ashby filled out some paperwork on Dusty and provided her all the personal contact information she could recall on his family, the nurse led them to the doctor’s private office to offload their backpacks.
“Jake, what about our guns?” asked Ashby.
Jake looked to the nurse, who offered a suggestion. “Why don’t you leave them here while you are in our facility? I’ll keep the door locked until you need them.”
“That’ll work. Thank you.”
Jake helped Ashby with her shotgun, and then he removed her paddle-holstered weapon. He looked her in the eyes to get her attention. “That has you squared away.”
Ashby stood still as Jake removed his utility
belt and holster before setting it on his backpack next to the M16. He intentionally hid the fact that both of them had concealed-carry weapons strapped to their ankles. He didn’t like being separated from his guns but felt the pistols would provide them some measure of protection if a situation required it.
As they exited the office, the nurse locked the door and went back to her duties. Jake and Ashby stood next to one another in the hallway as Dusty was wheeled into a room across the corridor by a young, male lab technician.
“They’re gonna take a look at his head,” Jake commented as he reached for Ashby’s hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.
Ashby chuckled and then wiped a tear from her face. “If Rita were here, she’d say they won’t find anything in there.”
Jake gave her a hug and led her to the waiting area to see what was happening in the world.
The reception they received was markedly different from earlier. Trooper Hastings had obviously told the other people waiting for their loved ones to be treated that Jake and Ashby were not a threat despite their heavily armed entrance.
As they came in, Hastings introduced them to everyone, and an elderly lady offered them coffee. This caused Ashby to turn on the waterworks once again. It was a touching moment as the woman who identified herself as a grandmother of eight grandkids consoled Ashby. While they hugged, Jake fixed each of them a Styrofoam cup full of the strong black delicacy.
He handed it to Ashby, who took the cup in both hands, smelled the aroma, and took a sip. Her eyes closed, and Jake swore her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Then he took a sip. He knew the feeling.
“Why don’t you folks grab a couple of seats and take a load off,” said an elderly man who was with the grandmother. A couple scooted over so Jake and Ashby could sit together in front of the television. The volume was turned down low, but the familiar face of Jake Tapper filled the screen. The chyron at the bottom of the screen read Yellowstone—Earth’s Greatest Killer.
“They’ve got that right,” muttered Ashby.
Chapter 31
Challis, Idaho
Just as they got settled in, CNN went to a commercial break. Ashby laughed. “A commercial? Really? Who’s gonna buy the products they’re pushing?”
Jake patted her on the leg to calm her down. He could tell Ashby was incredulous, but all eyes were upon them as the newcomers to the group. Jake didn’t think this was the time to state opinions or frighten anyone. “You know the news networks. They exist to sell commercial time slots.”
“Where are y’all from?” asked a younger man with his pregnant wife. They sat across from Jake and Ashby against the window.
“We live in California,” offered Jake, “but we left Yellowstone as the volcano erupted. How’s your baby doing?” He was trying to make conversation. He wanted to blend in with the group in the waiting area because he sensed some of them were standoffish toward him and Ashby.
The young man replied, “We’ve been waitin’ to see the doc. She’s been in some—”
His wife interrupted and glared at Jake. “We were next in line until you showed up. Maybe we should’ve walked in here with rifles too.”
Trooper Hastings jumped in to defend the clinic and Jake. “Now, hold on, ma’am. These folks brought an unconscious man in here who needed immediate emergency attention. You’re still the next in line.”
“What makes that busted-up guy more important than my baby,” argued the expectant mother. “I’m painin’ in my belly and maybe my baby needs help before he does.”
“Dusty’s in a coma and survived a helicopter crash,” Ashby shot back in defense.
Jake sensed the argument could escalate and, fortunately, CNN returned to reporting.
Tapper pressed his fingers to his earpiece, paused as he listened, and then began. “We’ve been informed that the President of the United States has been evacuated to an undisclosed location. Now, this is not yet official, but our sources in the White House tell us that the president has declared a nationwide state of emergency and is implementing the country’s continuity-of-government plan.”
Tapper brought in one of their law and government commentators, Jeffrey Toobin, to explain to the viewers what that entailed.
A man who hadn’t spoken yet offered his opinion. “Great, they all get to hang out in a bunker until this is over, and the rest of us have to fend for ourselves. How am I supposed to pay my bills?”
“Shhh,” another woman hissed. “Let’s hear what the man says.”
After listening to the sniping between the people in the waiting area, Jake was glad he had retained the pistol around his ankle. The stress of this unprecedented disaster was wearing on all of them, especially the people who didn’t understand what was happening.
Ignorance was not bliss, as the saying goes. Ignorance results in uncertainty, which in turn creates fear and then desperation. He reminded himself to remember that as they traveled eight hundred miles to Arcata.
Toobin looked into the camera and began. “One of the greatest foreign-policy dilemmas faced by any president is what to do in the case of an all-out nuclear war and how our government would survive it. Dating back to the Carter administration, the White House began to lay plans for preparations in the event of an imminent doomsday scenario, i.e., the apocalypse.”
Tapper interrupted. “Jeffrey, many scientists have identified the four eruptions at Yellowstone to be apocalyptic. It appears the president agrees.”
Ashby leaned in to Jake’s shoulder. “Four in three days. I don’t think it’s finished yet.”
He nodded and took her closeness as an opportunity to hold her tight. As a result, she rested her head on his shoulder.
Toobin continued on CNN. “Under President Carter, Presidential Directive 58 was issued to address the basic questions of what would happen in the event of the president’s death, or his vice president, the cabinet, members of Congress, and so on. This initial directive was subsequently amended during the Reagan administration and by every president since.
“It dictates successors in office, methods of confirming the deaths of governmental officials, and the duties of our military leaders. And, for the purposes of today’s reporting, it provides for moving the center of government to undisclosed locations to protect the high-ranking officials, such as the president and his cabinet, from harm.”
“Like Cheyenne Mountain and Raven Rock in Pennsylvania,” interjected Tapper.
“Even Air Force One, although not under these circumstances,” added Toobin.
“Now, Jeffrey, some, like the Senate Minority Leader, have already issued statements criticizing the president for abandoning the American people in their time of need. He believes the president is leaving Washington too soon, before the ash cloud has arrived.”
“I agree,” mumbled the husband of the pregnant woman. “I don’t think he can take care of us from a bunker somewhere. He and the rest of those overpaid politicians should be in Washington doing their jobs.”
“Yeah,” added another man in the waiting area. “The state should’ve had snowplows up here by now, clearing the streets so we can drive. The mayor promised he’d be on top of Boise to git ’er done.”
Trooper Hastings sat a little taller in his chair. “Just where do you folks plan on going? Cars stall out in this mess. Then you’ll have to walk. We’ve got ash on the ground from here to Oregon, and south well past Salt Lake City. You’ll never make it at this point and might as well ride it out until the rain washes it away.”
Ashby leaned up in the chair and was about to speak when the ground began to shake again.
Chapter 32
Challis, Idaho
The pregnant woman shrieked, and her husband quickly covered her head from any possible falling debris. Ashby glanced up and saw that the ceiling showed no evidence of damage from the prior earthquakes related to Yellowstone’s eruption. Her immediate concern was for Dusty.
“Jake, this is more than a tremor,” she warned.
Then her eyes were diverted to the television. The screen turned to black and then static before the picture sharpened once again. She pointed at the monitor as it was about to topple over. One of the men sitting near it jumped out of his seat and set it upright just in time.
“Turn it up,” ordered Trooper Hastings.
The man holding the monitor in place found the volume button and increased it to be heard over the continuous rumble. CNN had cut away to its Denver bureau. A reporter stood outside the USGS Federal Center on Second Street in downtown Denver. He was standing in a foot of ash and it was falling on his shoulders and onto his black CNN cap.
“We’ve been instructed to exit the building for the second time in as many days as an earthquake has struck to the north of us near the Colorado-Wyoming border around the Flaming Gorge National Recreation Area. The ground shook the building, causing it to sway back and forth for over a minute.”
Ashby whispered to Jake, “The fault there runs northward through Bridger-Teton, where we saw the first fissures. Expect another eruption within twenty-four hours.”
“Are we safe here?” he asked.
“For now, but like I said, Yellowstone hasn’t finished erupting. You can expect at least one, based upon that quake, and probably two or three.”
Jake looked around the room and outside the front windows. He thought of the hotel across the alley and the mini-market just past it. He suddenly had the urge to bolt out of the building and buy everything he could find. Then he thought of something.
He had no cash, nor did Ashby. She was the type to whip out a debit card for a cup of coffee. He began to wonder if the local merchants would accept credit cards and whether they could even process the transaction.
“That weren’t nuthin’,” mumbled the man who’d complained that the snowplows weren’t operating. “I’ve been around these parts since ’83 when Borah Peak ruptured. Now, that was a quake, I’m a-tellin’ ya. We helped them folks out down in Mackay to look for bodies. It was one heckuva mess.”