by Bobby Akart
Jake laughed. “Here’s what I think. You and I’ve seen enough drama and bad guys in the last week. Let’s allow someone else to have fun, shall we?”
“I’m down with that, as Dusty would say,” said Ashby, who then paused before continuing. “I’m going to miss those two.”
“Yeah, me too. Look, here we are.” Jake pointed ahead as part of the house could be seen through the towering redwoods.
Jake wheeled the motor home toward the circular drive until the front of the house overlooking the river came into view.
“Jake!”
“I see it!” Jake jammed on the brakes and quickly unbuckled his seatbelt. “Stay here, but be ready.”
“Okay.”
Jake scrambled to the back and grabbed his rifle. He exited the Bounder and immediately pointed his rifle at the SUV with its rear window raised. It was backed in to the front porch of the house, but nobody could be seen.
Jake knew the layout of the home and was comfortable charging through the front door, which had been left open. He quickly moved toward the SUV and looked inside. The rear seat was laid flat, and a dozen boxes of all sizes were stacked inside.
He turned his attention to the house and swiftly moved up the stairs of the covered porch, moving his rifle side to side as he swept the interior of the house that he could see through the front door.
Heel to toe, he quietly walked inside, looking for the intruders. The house was just as he remembered it. Nothing had changed.
He heard muffled voices coming from the kitchen. Jake crouched lower and worked his way around the massive stone fireplace that separated the living area from the kitchen. He took a deep breath and steadied his nerves.
Jake burst around the corner and pointed his rifle at the two men inside his house.
“Nobody move a muscle.”
THANK YOU FOR READING YELLOWSTONE: INFERNO
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READ ON FOR A BONUS EXCERPT from YELLOWSTONE: FALLOUT, the next installment in the Yellowstone series.
Bonus Excerpt from YELLOWSTONE: FALLOUT
Prologue
The Yellowstone Eruption
The Seventh Day
Volcanoes have been erupting for billions of years, shaping and molding our planet, killing life and re-creating it at the same time. For ten thousand years, humans have been around to observe these earth-changing events, but only since the early twentieth century have modern-day scientists been able to measure them with precise scientific methods.
By studying rock samples, the earth’s geography, and layers of volcanic ash in core samples, scientists can reconstruct some, although not all, of the most epic volcanic eruptions, including the ones from hundreds of millions of years ago.
According to scientists at the United States Geological Survey, the largest known eruption occurred twenty-seven million years ago in the San Juan Mountains centered in southwestern Colorado. The La Garita eruption was large enough to cover much of the western United States in a forty-foot layer of ash.
The eruption was deemed so large that in a 2004 edition of the Bulletin of Volcanology, scientists recommended adding a ninth level to the Volcanic Explosivity Index. Some even declared the La Garita eruption to be a magnitude nine-point-two.
Throughout the millennia, large eruptions have occurred measuring VEI 8. The USGS has identified fifty such catastrophic events, occurring at a frequency of twice every one hundred thousand years. The most recent VEI 8 occurred twenty-six thousand years ago at Lake Taupo in New Zealand.
In 2004, many scientists disputed the VEI 9 designation applied to La Garita. They argued the Earth didn’t have the capability of launching ten thousand cubic kilometers of ejecta from its core. A VEI 9, they said, would require an eruption ten times greater than Toba and past Yellowstone eruptions.
Today, on day seven of the eruption of the Yellowstone supervolcano, scientists were unanimous in their agreement. A VEI 9 super eruption was possible, and it was unfolding before the eyes of modern man.
Earth’s greatest killer was doing what it did best—killing things. First, it blew up a hundred-mile radius of the planet, incinerating every living thing in a raging inferno. Then the poisonous gases trapped beneath the earth’s surface spread outward at enormous speeds, reaching far beyond the newly formed caldera, chasing down humans and animals. The death was painful, as the noxious gases were taken into their lungs, causing pulmonary distress.
That happened in the early hours and days of the several volcanic eruptions that occurred at Yellowstone. Then day seven arrived. The rim of the caldera began to sink into the earth, dragging mountains down with it. The final eruption sent the largest amount of magma and ash into the stratosphere ever recorded or observed in the history of man. An area the size of New Jersey erupted skyward, like a never-ending mushroom cloud, stretching toward the Pacific Ocean and carried by the jet stream across the United States and beyond.
The deaths around the country were not quite as dramatic as the way those nearest Yellowstone had perished. People and animals literally began to choke to death on the extremely fine particles of ash that overcame them.
As the eruption launched the particles of ash and poisonous gas into the stratosphere, the volcanic cloud began to circle the Earth. It systematically dispersed sulfur dioxide, a hundred million tons of it, which combined with water to form a fine aerosol mist of sulfuric acid.
As the sulfuric acid dropped lower into the Earth’s atmosphere, it created the greatest environmental disaster known to man. Not only did it poison those living beings that breathed it, but it led to greater cloud cover around the globe, further impeding sunlight, which was already blocked by the volcanic cloud.
The immediate effect on the global climate was profound. Temperatures were lowered by five degrees almost immediately with an even greater decrease along the northern latitudes. Scientists only had to look at history to predict what was in store for the planet.
After the VEI 7 eruption of Mount Tambora in 1815, unseasonable cold killed livestock and crops around the world. The following year, the world experienced the Year Without a Summer. In the United States, every morning was covered in frost. Wheat, corn, and hay crops failed. Without feed for livestock, coupled with the poisonous effect of the volcanic matter, the country’s meat supply disappeared.
America had faced these challenges and more. At the time of the Tambora eruption, the population of America was seven million. The population at the time of this Yellowstone eruption was three hundred twenty million. America was a nation that relied upon technology and transportation. She was ill-equipped to deal with a catastrophic event of this magnitude.
And, at the time, it was a nation on edge, wrought with political divisiveness and class warfare. The mindset of the population was not like the early eighteen hundreds when neighbor helped neighbor, and one wouldn’t hesitate to lend a hand to a stranger. It was a time of self-interest in which the takers outnumbered the makers. It was an era in which many lived with a sense of entitlement and a belief that the government sh
ould be there to take care of them in their time of need.
On day seven of the Yellowstone super eruption, Americans were in for a rude awakening as the ash fallout spread far and wide.
PART ONE
Welcome to the Mad House
Chapter 1
The Mad House
Near Maple Creek, California
“Nobody move a muscle.”
Now that Jake Wheeler had killed, it would’ve been easier to pull the trigger and shoot the two strangers in the kitchen of the Mad House. But he was experienced now, having lived through a full-on assault by men who had nefarious intent. In less than two seconds, he’d conducted a quick threat assessment.
The two guys who stood with their backs to him were unarmed and well-dressed. Plus, oddly, they were unpacking boxes rather than loading up his family’s belongings. In a world in which shoot first and ask questions later would become the norm, Jake’s instincts told him these two deserved the opportunity to explain.
They quickly spun around, but reacting in a fearful, not antagonistic way. “Wait. Don’t shoot. Your mother sent us.”
Jake stepped forward, his eyes scanning the entrances to the kitchen and back to the hallway behind him. “Keep talking,” he growled.
One of the men pointed toward the kitchen table, where several pieces of paper were stapled together. “Your mother emailed me and asked for my assistance.”
Jake moved toward the table, and without lowering his rifle, he glanced at the email sent from his mother to Joe Barnett.
The other man, who was visibly nervous, spoke up. He spoke uncharacteristically fast. “I’m Joe Barnett from Maple Creek. Your parents hired me years ago to look after the place. She sent that email to me yesterday. There is also a personal note for you.”
Jake began to relax. He brought his rifle to low ready and exhaled. “She asked you to stock the pantry?” he said inquisitively.
Barnett’s companion, a much younger, heavyset man whose features gave him away as his son, responded, “She asked for a whole lot more, but to be honest, you’re lucky to find a bread crumb on a store shelf around here. The canned goods and food items we found were from a closed-down restaurant. We had to pay a small fortune for this, but your mom said to spare no expense.”
Jake shouldered his rifle and introduced himself. He picked up the email and glanced at it again. “I’m sorry for pointing the gun at you. We’ve had a difficult trip and I had to be careful.”
“That’s okay,” said Barnett. “Do you want us to leave?”
“No,” replied Jake as he gestured over his shoulder with the email in his hand. “I need to go tell my friend what’s going on. Again, I apologize.” He excused himself and returned to the Bounder.
The impetuous Ashby Donovan had followed Jake’s instructions, for once, and remained in the motor home with her rifle ready. As soon as he came into view, he waved and gave her a thumbs-up to immediately ease her anxiety. When they were together, they fed off each other’s strength and confidence. They trusted one another with their lives and knew they could stand shoulder to shoulder against any threat.
When they were apart, it wasn’t fear that entered their conscience, but rather, concern for the other. As Jake and Ashby fell in love, their primal instinct to preserve their own well-being was displaced by the priority of protecting each other.
She exited the side of the motor home and met him halfway. Ashby was still holding her shotgun when Jake embraced her.
“My mother ordered supplies for the cabin,” he said. “The man who has been the caretaker over the years and his son found what they could.”
“Really? I mean, how did she know that—?” Ashby asked, and then her voice trailed off.
Jake had become emotional. “I guess you can call it mother’s intuition. Maybe she knows me better than I thought?”
Ashby nodded and reached for the email. “What’s this?”
“She sent this email to Mr. Barnett with instructions to find us some food. He said there’s also a note for me. We’ll read it later. Come on, I’ll show you around after we help these guys unload.”
Jake and Ashby each carried in a box, and within a few minutes, their pantry was stocked with a variety of #10 cans of vegetables and smaller containers of peanut butter, canned fish, and packaged meats.
Ashby opened the refrigerator and saw that it was completely empty. She laughed and said, “Well, I’d offer you something cold to drink, but we still have some shopping to do.”
Jake laughed and led them into the living room. “Do you have a minute to talk before you head back to town?”
“Sure,” said Joe. “Plus, I’d like to extend an invitation for you and Ashby to come into town and meet my wife as well. Bennita is the mayor of Maple Creek.”
“Wow,” began Jake. “When I used to come up here as a teen, Maple Creek didn’t have a red light.”
“Still doesn’t,” said Joe with a chuckle. “This part of Northern California is still unspoiled by the loonies that occupy the rest of the state. Folks come here to get away, relax. You know, hunt and fish. Pretty soon, there were enough residents to warrant an elementary school. When that happened, more families moved into the mountains, and we built a B and B to accommodate visitors. One thing led to another and the next thing you know, the locals decided we needed a government. They anointed, after an election of course, Bunny as their mayor.”
“Bunny?” asked Ashby.
“Yeah, that’s my wife’s nickname,” replied Joe. “When we opened the place, I teased her about calling it the Bunny Ranch.”
Joe’s son started laughing and Jake snickered. Ashby didn’t get the reference, so Joe continued. “She loved the name, thinking it would be cute if we had a variety of rabbits. You know, give the place that get-away-to-the-country look and feel.”
“Yeah, then she googled Bunny Ranch one day,” said Joe’s son, who was clearly amused at the practical joke played on his mother.
“You gotta help me out, here,” said Ashby. “Is there another Bunny Ranch?”
“Well, yeah,” replied Joe’s son. “It’s only the most famous Nevada brothel in the world. It’s right outside the state capital of Carson City.”
Ashby tilted her head and addressed Joe. “You named your bed and breakfast after a brothel?”
“No, honey.” Joe laughed. “I intended to fess up before it went too far. I always intended to suggest Barnett Bed and Breakfast. You know, Barnett B and B. The logo would be some form of B-B-B.”
“Yeah, when she found out Dad was trickin’ her, she blew up on him! It was really funny.”
Jake glanced outside and noticed daylight was getting away from them. He suddenly realized the Barnetts had lots of stories to tell, so he decided to get to the point. “I really appreciate you doing this for us and, again, my apologies for saying hello with my rifle.”
Joe nodded and scooted forward on the sofa. “Don’t you worry about that, Jake. We’re living in different times now. I know you folks had a long drive here and need your rest. There are a lot of things to talk about, so we’re gonna skedaddle. Get settled in, and when you have a chance in the next day or so, please come by the B and B. I’ll bring you up to speed on what’s happening around here.”
Jake had several questions, but he decided to wait until tomorrow to address them with the Barnetts. Ashby appeared tired and he was exhausted too.
As they said their goodbyes from the front porch, Joe turned and added one more piece of advice. He looked reflectively around the forest and down toward the Mad River. “Jake, we live in a different world. When you hear something go bump in the night, as they say, it’s worth investigating. Okay?”
Jake nodded and immediately began scanning the woods.
Chapter 2
The Mad House
Near Maple Creek, California
Jake found the remote to the television and the DirecTV satellite system. He powered on the heavy plasma television, which had been instal
led about the last time he’d stayed at the Mad House. The large glass monitor had required two men to lift and install on the wall. At the time, it was the latest and greatest in technology. Now it wouldn’t sell for twenty dollars at a flea market. The Sony picture, however, was still excellent.
Every major network was providing continuous coverage from around the country, as well as Europe. Jake and Ashby sat in stunned silence as they soaked in the news reports. Occasionally, Ashby would provide commentary, which generally consisted of astonishment as to the immediate environmental impact the Yellowstone eruption had on the Midwest, East Coast, and the Pacific Northwest.
“Jake, the caldera has swallowed the mountain ranges on the perimeter of Yellowstone.”
“Here’s what amazes me,” started Jake, shaking his head in disbelief. “I get that the satellites can’t provide an accurate image of what has happened because the volcanic cloud obscures their view. If what the talking heads say is true, Yellowstone will continue to spew magma and ash into the atmosphere for several more weeks or longer.”
“At least,” added Ashby.
Jake continued. “The mountains have disappeared, according to the reports. If I’m hearing correctly, the only way they know this is because cities and towns stretching from Idaho in the west, over to Wyoming, and then from Montana to Utah have disappeared.”
“Yes,” said Ashby. “All of those people—the towns, everything—are gone. The Yellowstone caldera has doubled in size, and it will continue to destroy its surroundings for weeks.”
Jake turned down the volume and began to surf through the channels. The imagery was the same. Computer models were shown. Scientists debated. Death-toll graphics were displayed. The numbers were incomprehensible.