by Bobby Akart
“October 1983, right?” asked Ashby, although she knew the answer.
“That’s the one. We had another in ’04, but it was a pussycat compared to Borah Peak.”
Ashby had the group’s attention as the other man turned down the volume. “It registered six-point-nine, but more importantly, on the Mercalli Intensity Index, it was a nine, which is considered violent.”
“They’re all violent, if you ask me,” said grandpa with a chuckle. “We lived here too. Mackay, which is about fifty miles south of here, was nearly leveled.”
The expectant father asked, “Hey, lady, do you know about earthquakes and volcanoes? Your shirt, um, are you one of them seisomoronologists?”
Ashby laughed and shook her head. “Actually, I work for NASA and this is a friend’s shirt. I am a geologist that studies volcanoes. A volcanologist, to be exact.”
“What does NASA have to do with volcanoes?” asked grandma.
“Well, it’s a long story, but anything related to the planet and its relationship to space links scientists from all walks of life together,” Ashby replied.
“Will you shoot straight with us? Nobody else will.” The expectant mother was warming up to Ashby. Ashby decided to cut her some slack. She was just afraid when she popped off earlier. Nobody else had entered the clinic since their arrival, and most likely the doctor would be through examining Dusty soon.
“Of course I will. As Jake knows, my big mouth has gotten me into trouble more than once. But, hey, let them fire me. I really don’t care anymore.”
The girl had a puzzled look on her face and then asked her question. “Some of the guys around town said they read on the internet that we’re all gonna die. He said this was one of them extinction-level events. Is that true?”
“Well, that’s a pretty outrageous conclusion at this point,” began Ashby. “Yellowstone hasn’t stopped erupting—”
Ashby caught herself and begged the universe to allow her to retrieve the words she’d just spoken. The room got quiet for a moment, except for the reporter, who continued talking about the earthquake activity of the last three days.
She was peppered with questions.
“What?”
“It ain’t over?”
“How bad is it gonna git?”
Ashby’s face grew pale and she looked to Jake. He smiled and nodded to her, an encouraging gesture.
Ashby had dealt with scientists and media types for the most part. Now she was sitting in a room of frightened, uninformed people who had babies on the way, and grandchildren to love, and injured love ones in the rooms behind her. Her mind raced as she debated the very same issue that the nation’s political leaders had been debating for several days—do we tell them how bad it could get?
“Dr. Donovan?” asked Trooper Hastings. He raised his eyebrows to convey some kind of message. Ashby’s guess was he was encouraging her to tone it down.
“Well, first let me say that the eruption at Yellowstone is very complicated because scientists don’t have a firm grasp of what’s underneath. They do the best they can to take geologic findings from past eruptions and combine it with data from the best technology known to man to create computer models for us to modify as needed. You have to understand, there isn’t a more studied volcano in the world than Yellowstone, and the best minds around the globe are trying to create an accurate picture of what to expect.”
“Dear, what do you expect?” asked grandma.
“In my opinion, and I’m just one person, but I believe that earthquake is likely to lead to another eruption. If this event is anything like the one two million years ago, then we can anticipate two more eruptions, maybe three, over the next several days.”
“That would be a whole week!” said one of the guys.
“Again, this is all based upon computer simulations, but the earth could continue to spew ash and poisonous gases into the air for a month.”
“What should we do?” asked the pregnant girl.
This was the question Ashby dreaded the most. The answer a couple of days ago would’ve been—Run, go, now! Now her response would be, It’s probably too late and you’re screwed.
Chapter 33
Challis, Idaho
The reception nurse slipped behind Jake and Ashby and leaned in between them. “The doctor would like to see you to provide an update.”
Ashby glanced at the people in the room and managed a nervous smile. She was glad she didn’t have to be honest with them about their prospects. She was also glad she didn’t have to confront their own prospects of survival. They, too, might have missed their window of opportunity to get away from the wrath of Yellowstone.
“This way, please,” said the nurse as she led them down the hallway to a different room. When they arrived at the door, which was slightly ajar, she gently nudged it open and announced their presence. “Doctor, I have Mr. Holder’s friends.”
Dr. Peterkin finished making some notes on Dusty’s chart, handed it to the attending nurse, and then turned to address two anxious faces. “Well, we’ve stabilized him for now. Under the circumstances, you did a remarkable job of treating the breaks. The forearm break was severe, in that both the radius and the ulna were fractured. As a result, these two bones in the forearm broke in such a way to protrude through the skin. Ordinarily, an open fracture such as this requires immediate medical attention because of the risk of infection, but you folks acted quickly, and properly, to keep this young man alive.”
Jake and Ashby looked at one another and smiled. The news was good thus far.
The doctor continued. “A CT scan was administered to look for intracranial hemorrhaging on the brain. The same impacts that battered his body into breaking had a profound impact on his skull. The good news is there are no signs of a fracture; however, his brain is slightly swollen. Because his brain is at rest, in neurological terms, it is using less oxygen. I plan on allowing him to regain consciousness on his own, which is likely with the fluids and assisted breathing we’ve established for him.”
“Is there anything we can do?” asked Jake. “I mean, do we need to sit with him? Or talk to him? You know, stuff like that.”
The doctor smiled and responded, “To be honest, not really. I know television and movies portray the grieving loved ones sitting beside the bed of their injured family member, making heartfelt speeches that suddenly cause the patient to open his or her eyes. That makes for good television. In actuality, patients wake up when their body is good and ready.”
“Okay,” said Ashby.
The doctor glanced toward the window, which was covered by closed mini-blinds. “I haven’t looked outside because I’ve been too busy, but there are hotels and stores in town that might be open. I’m told a lot of the people in town are still here, planning to ride out this deluge of ash fallout. They still have to make a living, you know?”
Ashby was so appreciative of the doctor’s efforts that she didn’t want to dampen his spirits and his hope for a quick ending to this environmental disaster. “Yes, sir. If it’s okay, we might hang around in the waiting area and catch up on the news. May we come and look in on Dusty from time to time?”
“Sure,” he said with a smile as he led them out of the room. Then he chuckled. “Just don’t touch anything. I know that sounds like an admonishment suitable for a child, but we’ve found adults are the biggest culprits of things being, well, touched.”
Jake and Ashby laughed and returned to the waiting room. When they arrived, the pregnant couple had left, presumably for the young mother-to-be’s examination. The television station had been switched to a Boise ABC affiliate that had a mobile news crew outside Idaho Falls.
“This is as close as law enforcement would allow us to proceed. At this time, the governor has ordered the Idaho State Police and the Bonneville County Sheriff’s Department to close all highways into Idaho Falls, not that they are passable anyway. The county had been using snowplows to clear the roads to assist emergency vehicles in and out
of the downtown area.
“Hospital and nursing home evacuations began two days ago but were halted after a pop-up shower, albeit brief, mixed with the twenty inches of ash that had accumulated on the rooftops of medical facilities. The weight overwhelmed the roof structures, causing them to collapse within the interior walls of the buildings. Countless patients and elderly shut-ins have perished, in addition to medical caregivers. It’s just tragic. And, I might add, the ash is still falling. Back to you.”
Ashby shook her head in disgust as she realized the warning signs were ignored and, therefore, the necessary precautions were not undertaken. She flopped in her original seat in front of the television, and Jake fixed up a couple of coffees for them.
As he sat down next to her, he whispered, “I’m amazed the power is still on. All of the lines across the way appear to be aboveground. The ash has accumulated on top of the red warning balls strung across the power lines. It’s a matter of time before the weight pulls them down.”
Ashby nodded and pointed to the television. “Look at the graphic. The Montana National Guard is reporting that Billings and Bozeman have been destroyed. The pyroclastic flow from Norris crossed one ridge after another until it overwhelmed everything in its path. Even the capital of Helena has been badly damaged. Jake, their governor and his family are all dead.”
They sat quietly watching the local impact from the perspective of those closest to the devastation, not the talking heads in New York City, who knew very little about what people in flyover country went through in their daily lives.
The elderly couple that Ashby identified as grandma and grandpa sat patiently near the window. Earlier, the older man would cough from time to time, and Ashby took little notice. Now his coughing was noticeably worse in just a short period of time.
Grandma looked up and spoke to Ashby. “Why didn’t they warn us?”
Ashby just shook her head and her eyes filled with tears. She was barely able to say the words, “I tried,” as she broke down and buried her head in Jake’s chest. She closed her eyes and made every effort to close out the world, but the television station was turned back to CNN.
She heard his name.
Rick Younger.
She snapped her head to attention and quickly wiped the tears mixed with ash residue off her face. A split screen told the whole story. A picture of Younger was on the right side of the screen and a private jet was shown crashed in a field on the left. The chyron read Scientist Perishes in Crash.
“Turn that up, please,” said Jake, who released Ashby from the hug he’d given her. They both leaned forward in their seats and listened to the reporter.
“Plane crashes like this one have been taking place throughout the region.”
Tapper interrupted. “Mike, can you give our viewers an idea of why this is happening?”
The reporter nodded and replied, “Yes, of course. To understand the risk, we need to look back to June of 1982 and British Airways flight 9. The Boeing 747 was en route from London to Auckland, New Zealand. What the crew did not know was that an active volcano, Mount Galunggung in West Java province, Indonesia, had erupted and was spewing ash into its flight level.
“Somewhere south of Java, just after midnight local time, the flight crew noticed the glass on the cockpit windows was gleaming. That was quickly followed by a fiery glow from the engines and the smell of sulfurous smoke in the cabin. Within minutes, all four engines had cut out, leaving the jumbo jet gliding down from seven miles above the ocean.
“At the altitude of two miles, however, the problem cleared enough for some of the engines to be restarted, and the plane landed safely in Jakarta. One of the passengers wrote a book about the twelve-minute plunge.
“You see, volcanic ash is composed of particles of glassy pulverized rock less than two millimeters in diameter. When an aircraft flies into it at its high cruising speed, the cockpit windows get a sandblasting, obscuring the pilots’ view. Crucially, though, the engines suck the ash in, where it melts in the hot combustion chamber and fuses to form globs on the turbine vanes that block the engine’s airflow. Only when it cools and solidifies, as the aircraft plummets engineless, can enough of the muck flake off to allow an engine to restart.
“The problem lies with technology and human failure in advance warnings. With respect to technology, ash clouds are dry, so they do not show up on weather radar, although new high-tech radar devices are being developed to give pilots a heads-up to the threat. In other cases, aircraft aren’t given adequate warning.”
Ashby couldn’t contain herself. “He was warned. That man, Younger, he was warned at least ten days ago, and he refused to heed the warnings.”
“How do you know this, young lady?” asked grandpa.
“Because I’m the one who warned him!”
Chapter 34
Challis, Idaho
Several more people walked into the small clinic, most of whom complained of coughing and a scratchy feeling in their lungs. Ashby knew what that meant, and she doubted Dr. Peterkin could help them. As CNN bounced from one report and expert interview to another, Ashby began to get impatient about Dusty’s condition. She suggested she and Jake give up their seats to the people who appeared to be injured. Plus, it gave her an excuse to look in on Dusty.
They eased into his room, where a nurse was making notes on his chart. Ashby asked about his condition and if there had been any change. The nurse advised them that everything was the same, which, under the circumstances, was considered positive. She quickly exited the room, leaving Jake and Ashby alone at Dusty’s bedside.
“Look, they’ve placed his lower leg in one of those boots,” Jake observed. “So much for signing his cast like the good old days.”
Ashby gently touched his leg and then walked around the bed to look at his arm cast. “Jake, he’s gonna be all right. He’s young and healthy, except for that steady diet of Cheetos. I remember when he and Rita first walked into my office. The selection process for the VIPER program was done by other faculty members and VIPER alumnae in order to prevent any appearance of a conflict between teacher and student.”
“Were you pleased with the choices?” asked Jake.
“Oh, absolutely,” replied Ashby as she stood back from the bed to take in the entire scene. “Rita, of course, was all business. Her grades were at the top of her class and she had a pedigree, too. Her family was in the biz, so to speak. Dusty, on the other hand, was different. He was young, exuberant, and fit the part of a digger. He looked more paleontologist than he did geologist.”
Ashby paused as she looked at a chair in the corner of the room with Dusty’s personal effects. She walked over and placed Dusty’s khaki boonie cap on top of the pile.
“You know, I think he wore the same thing every day we were together except for his tee shirt. Appearances don’t matter to Dusty. Living life to the hilt, and having fun while doing it, does.”
“They’re both very special people, and I know the two of them were honored to work under your guidance.”
Ashby turned her head down and toed the floor mindlessly. “I should’ve sent them home, like I did Ella. Our work was done there for the most part. The rest was up to me. I should’ve followed my gut and sent them back to California.”
Jake put his arm around Ashby and studied Dusty lying peacefully in the bed. He glanced at his vitals, noticing his blood pressure and pulse were near normal.
“Come on, you know those two. They were young and rebellious. They would’ve outright refused, or they would’ve loaded up the van and pretended to leave, only to be discovered by us at some point.”
Ashby laughed, which made Jake feel better. “You’re right. They had the fever just like I’ve had it since my parents died. We chased down leads. We studied the science. We listened to our gut. There’s the thrill of studying volcanoes, and then there’s everything else, which comes secondary.”
A commotion could be heard from the waiting area, so Jake broke away from Ashby and
stuck his head out the door.
“The president is coming on,” one of the nurses said as she rushed down the hallway.
Jake turned to Ashby. “I guess we should hear what he has to say.”
Everyone in the clinic huddled around the television except for the doctor and the pregnant couple. The volume was turned up as the screen showed a single blue podium sitting alone on a slightly elevated platform. The blue goose, as the official presidential podium was called, was adorned with the seal of the President of the United States.
Flanking the podium was the United States flag on the left and the flag of the President of the United States on the right. Typically, at White House press briefings or presidential press conferences, the press corps would be standing in front of the podium, facing the camera, while they informed the viewers of what they expected the president to discuss.
This briefing was different. There was only a single camera. There was no media presence. And the president was hidden in a bunker at an undisclosed location as part of the continuity-of-government plan.
The president walked into the camera’s view with a serious look on his face. He looked into the camera without notes or the aid of a teleprompter.
“My fellow Americans, this afternoon, on the third day of the most catastrophic environmental disaster known to man, I want to express my condolences to the families and loved ones of those who perished in the initial eruption of the Yellowstone supervolcano. The amount of destruction has been unfathomable, and I’m advised there will be more to come.”
Ashby leaned over to Jake. “He’s telling it like it is without sugarcoating the situation.”
“Let me summarize their findings. It’s extremely difficult to anticipate the innumerable medical and technological difficulties our nation will face caused by the volumes of magma, ash, and gases unleashed in the Yellowstone eruption.