by Pamela Davis
Chapter 14
St. Louis, Missouri 11 p.m.
Elliott Carlisle sat up in bed and looked quickly around his bedroom. He was dozing off, but then he was wide awake. Why? He got out of bed and walked to the sliding glass door windows of his bedroom in the ten-story apartment building. And while he watched the flickering lights across the city, a tremendous jolt threw him to floor. He bounced on the continuously shaking floor before he rolled toward the glass doors and saw the lights go out across the city. As he tried to sit up, he had a falling sensation. Then the ceiling of his apartment, along with the apartment on the eleventh floor, crashed down on him, and he had no more sensations at all.
Sounds of shattering glass and a dull roar accompanied the sharp up and down motion of Sarah Moore's house in the suburbs. As her crystal collection on their glass shelves fell on her head, she screamed once, and then, as thoughts were fading, she said plaintively, "But they said it would be a flood!" Then she didn't say anything as the walls caved in on top of her.
Norm Bennett shuffled along the sidewalk in the park, then found himself face down on pavement that slapped him in the face repeatedly as he slammed up and down on the rolling earth. When he was thrown on his back, he stared up in disbelief, seeing the Arch, the St. Louis landmark, the one that was supposed to be impervious to earthquakes, come falling majestically to the ground, crushing his body.
Bernie was having sex with Frances, his fiancé, who had been the librarian in Cape Fair, when they were torn from each other's arms as the violent shaking threw them out of bed. "It's the end of the world, Bernie! The end of the--" screamed Frances, whose yell was abruptly cut off when her chest was crushed by a falling armoire. Bernie whimpered in pain and had time to pray for deliverance before the house pancaked down on top of him and plunged into a gaping maw that twisted across the yard and underneath the house.
Vicky Morrison's cat was not coming inside no matter how much she yelled. As she wandered onto the lawn, she couldn't understand why her homebody cat had run off. Her last coherent thought was amazement at seeing a spouting burst of sand blow up next to her from within the ground. Bursts of water and sand showered down on her before she was sucked beneath her front yard when the spout closed up again.
Mercy LaFontaine stared in horror as the building across from her blew up in fire, even as it collapsed. She'd been standing in the street, which now looked like a rolling carpet of asphalt, bumping up and down. While she lay panting on the broken glass and other debris, she watched in disbelief as the entire block of buildings fell outward into the street, one entombing her under layers of bricks.
The riverboat captain of the Ann Marie looked out on the skyline of St. Louis and wondered if he were dreaming. Building after building crashed down, some falling into each other sideways, some just sinking straight down in a flash. "This can't be happening!" he protested, only to see the river draining away beneath his boat. Suddenly the Ann Marie was sitting on the silt of the bottom of the river. As he held onto the railing for dear life, he glanced out into the middle of the river and was awed for a moment by the sight of a roiling current of water racing back toward the shore until it washed him overboard.
The rushing waters slammed over the banks and levees, snapping off cottonwood trees like a giant chainsaw. The muddy, debris-filled water burst through the streets, sweeping away any survivors in its path before receding just as quickly while the temblors continued. It was 11:03 p.m.
The Samuels' House
At the Samuels' house, Sam was waiting for it in the den with Harry by her side. She'd gone to bed earlier at six for a nap, knowing she'd be up when it happened. Her mom and dad had put pictures in frames in the closet, off the walls. Everything loose on tables and bookshelves was put in boxes. The house was as secure as they could make it. She heard her father calling to her from kitchen, "Sam? Do you have any idea how soon after 11 it will happen?"
As she opened her mouth to answer, the house shook. Biting her tongue as her mouth snapped shut, Sam ran to stand in the doorway. Jessica was quickly by her side, an arm around her daughter. Sam looked up and smiled at her. The house shook gently, a rolling type of motion, but Sam didn't hear any breaking glass. Then it was over.
Mrs. Philpott's House
Mrs. Philpott sat in her rocker with a lit candle before her on the coffee table. Perceval perched beside her on a chair. She'd thought about staying with John and Jessica tonight, but wanted to be in her own house to watch out for damage. They'd all taken precautions, going through their various homes and packing away loose items, but Sam was the only one who'd dreamed of the New Madrid quake. A few tidbits of information from the little girl were all they had to go on.
Mrs. Philpott thought about what she knew of the quake zone. It was caused by the Reelfoot Rift, which was actually a series of faults known to run under New Madrid, Missouri. It was said to intersect five states and cross the Mississippi in three places--at least. There was still so much that wasn't known about it. It hadn't been studied as intensively as the geology in California, which seemed absurd to Mrs. Philpott when she thought of the huge area to be affected. The three large earthquakes that occurred in 1811 and into 1812 over a period of several months were now estimated to be larger than 8.0 on the Richter scale. Which was big enough, she thought grimly. Big enough to devastate St. Louis and Memphis and hundreds of other smaller towns along the way. And aftershocks of a goodly strength had hit the area for more than a year beyond the original quakes. Even though geologists knew it was there, it wasn't as active as the faults in California, and as a result, there were many, many buildings and homes that were not retrofitted for large earthquakes like they had been in San Francisco and Los Angeles. Of course, she mused, it didn't help L.A. very much to have been prepared. They weren't prepared at all for the tremendous size of the temblors that hit out there. St. Louis and Memphis...well, they were probably going to be toast, she figured. Then the shaking began and she blew out the candle.
Harmony's Cabins-by-the-Lake
Dr. Shapiro, Alex, Nathan and Harmony gathered in Harmony's cabin to wait for the rumbling to begin. Alex had brought potato chips and onion dip in plastic bowls that wouldn't break in case they rolled off the table and they all sat munching as they waited.
"Clay is keeping the dog with him during the quake?" Dr. Shapiro asked Nathan.
"Yeah, we didn't want to move her again. She's doing better now that she's medicated for pain, but her leg is still pretty infected."
"So what's the earthquake going to do?" asked Harmony, reaching for the bowl of chips.
"It's going to be a mess for hundreds of miles. Buildings of brick and concrete will come down," Alex informed her. She'd done some online research this afternoon before the power shutdown. Then she'd packed up the library's computers in bubble-wrap and heavy duty boxes, away from the bookshelves. She continued, "Gas lines will rupture, so there will be lots of fires. Some reading I did today said that if the New Madrid ever cut loose these days, in the way it did in the 1800s, it would be the worst natural disaster in American history." She paused and then laughed unhappily. "Of course, that guy wasn't writing during the past few months. L.A. and Las Vegas and the hurricane hadn't happened. Who knows which event will be considered the worst disaster before it's all over?"
Then the table shook and the potato chip bowl fell to the floor.
Power Station, Table Rock Lake Dam
At the Table Rock power station, Sergeant Wachowski sat through the mild shaking and felt a sense of relief. They were going to be okay, he thought thankfully. Tommy was looking pale, but stood in the doorway grinning foolishly.
"Was that it?" he asked.
"I think so," said Andy. He had arrived a couple hours earlier to stay with Lisanne and the other Power People. Waldo had started barking right before the shaking as Merlin hissed in Lisanne's arms.
"You think the dam's okay?" Lisanne asked Wachowski nervously.
"Yep," he replied. "Oh, we'll sti
ll need to inspect it, but this wasn't bad at all. Not like those dreams of the L.A. quake. We'll be fine. Bet you we have the power back up and running within twenty-four hours."
"Hey, do you think the horses will be okay?" asked Tommy anxiously. He was dying to ride a horse.
"They should be okay," Andy said, then shook his head at himself. "Duh--why don't I just use the cell phone and call them? I don't think this would have brought down the cell phone tower."
The Farm, Cape Fair
Out at the farm to be near her mother during the dangerous time, Rachel sat with Janine in one of the barns. Janine was speaking about the horses.
"They knew what was going to happen, so they were ready for it. I'm not hearing of any injuries at all."
Rachel grinned at her as Janine suddenly jumped, surprised by the ring of a cell phone in the dark. Janine laughed shakily and answered, "Hello?"
Rachel heard enough of the conversation to know it was the folks at the power station calling and stood up next to her favorite horse, Midnight. She'd met Midnight earlier in the afternoon. Black had suggested that she and Max get familiar with the horses and, in Max's case, learn to ride. For Rachel it was just a matter of brushing up on it as she'd ridden horses when she was younger. Black wanted them to try and establish some kind of connection with their chosen mounts, but none of them were sure it could be done. Rachel had not bonded with any animal yet, and so far, her attempts to talk to Midnight had failed miserably. But he did seem to like her, although, she acknowledged, that could have to do with the apples she'd been feeding him this evening.
Janine finished her call and walked back to the farmhouse with Rachel. As they entered the back door and went through the mud room into the kitchen, they heard Abby saying, "There's no water, Clay. That's never happened to us before. All the little ones we've been through before and now we don't have water! San Francisco usually comes through better than this. I wonder why the water stopped this time."
Rachel and Janine stopped and looked at each other. "San Francisco?" Janine asked softly. Rachel nodded with a worried look on her face.
Gracie walked over to Abby and, holding her by the arm, led her to a chair at the big wooden rectangular kitchen table. "Why don't we have some tea out of the thermos? I made it just in case we lost the water. I think that would taste good about now. Some tea with lemon and sugar?"
Abby nodded slowly as Gracie poured a cup of tea and glanced at Clay across the room. The candlelight barely showed his face, but she could see he looked anguished by his wife's obvious distress. This, Gracie thought, was going to a problem. Abby had to pull out of her denial, but Gracie didn't know what to do to help her. Another little shake rattled the dishes in the cupboard and Gracie heard Rachel let out a little yelp.
"Hey! I thought it was over!" Rachel said.
"If we're feeling this here, imagine what it's like near the epicenter," Clay said gravely.
Janine observed quietly, "I don't have to imagine. The horses are getting information from somewhere and it's bad there...really...bad."
White House, the Oval Office
The President looked around the room at all his experts. A bunch of nincompoops, he decided, but they were all he had at the moment.
"I thought you guys told me there would probably be a flood of the Mississippi--not a damned earthquake!" he spluttered.
"Sir, we had no way of knowing," Dr. Hutton replied cautiously.
"This is part of it, isn't it? This is part of the pattern? Part of the attack?" the President asked.
"Attack, sir? What attack are you talking about?" queried Dr. Hutton.
"You know what I'm talking about, you--you--" He stopped, took a deep breath, then started again. "I told you about the pattern I saw in all those reports you gave me. I showed you on the map where we've been attacked. It's us versus nature, Hutton! Surely even you can see that."
"Sir, I think it's premature to assume--" Hutton began.
"Stop. Stop right there," the President demanded. "I don't want to hear your namby-pamby explanations that are mostly about covering your butt. I want to know where we can hurt her the most, where we can do something to send a message that will get across."
"Her, sir?" Hutton asked carefully. "Don't you think we'd better start talking about getting rescue teams and disaster relief to the New Madrid quake area?"
"The Earth, dammit! She's the one doing it. I want it to stop! You can notify those agencies that take care of this kind of thing. If there's anyone left at the agencies to go help the poor souls in St. Louis and Memphis. We may have to just write off those cities, Hutton. We're overstretched. Not enough people to handle what we had going on before this. That's why we have to act now, to get it to stop. We'll send her a message."
Hutton thought carefully before replying. Clearly the President was having a breakdown. He'd lost touch with reality and wasn't thinking rationally. And just as clearly, Hutton was not powerful enough in D.C. to remove him from power. He'd have to talk to some people, and all that would take time. The President appeared ready to take some action, and Hutton knew he was the last person able to stop him at this point. So he thought. He thought about where he wanted to be--outside of D.C.--and away from wherever the President decided to send his 'message.' The lodge, he thought suddenly. His family had a lodge in the Berkshire Mountains in Western Massachusetts. Far enough inland from the east coast to avoid any more bizarre disasters, man-made or otherwise. Ought to be safe there.
"Well, Hutton? Are you just going to stare into space? That bomb is ready to be shipped while you sit there twiddling your thumbs."
"No, sir," Hutton replied. "I was thinking of an appropriate place for you to send your message." The other scientists in the room shifted in their seats and stared at Hutton in disbelief. He continued, "I think the Atlantic Ocean would be good. That way we won't hurt any of our citizens, but we'll definitely make an impact on the Earth's crust."
"Hmm, sounds good, Hutton," the President replied, delighted finally with his science advisor. "Good man! Now you just send the coordinates over to General Briggs. He'll know what to do with them."
Hutton nodded and motioned to the others to leave with him. He'd have to deal with their questions, but after he talked to General Briggs, he was leaving town. Whatever was going on, whatever was causing it, Dr. Sheffield Hutton the Third had no intention of staying in D.C. with a President who'd lost all his marbles.
Salmon Creek, Idaho
"Well, you know that New Madrid quake was a big 'un, wiped out so many people and towns. Big cities, little cities, didn't matter. Oh, there were survivors of the quake, don't get me wrong. The trouble was there was so much danged destruction everywhere, so big an area, that the guv'ment didn't really know where to start to help out the most people. It was like it cut the nation in half, 'specially after the flood started the next day. So there was folks some places that lost their national TV stations. Suddenly everywhere there were people just wonderin' what the heck had happened. Then the reports starting coming out, over the radios, over some those satellite phones and even some cell phones, and then on the local TV stations. And nobody could believe how bad it was. Nobody. 'Cept now they were all scared. And anybody who hadn't already decided to pick up and move to some safer place, well now all of 'em, folks everywhere were suddenly hoppin' in their cars and getting on the roads. Some tryin' to help, and others tryin' to reach their loved ones in different places where there was a disaster. And then other folks was just runnin' and they didn't know what from. They were just that scared. Only they didn't know where to go to be safe.
"But when the quake hit and then the next day the flooding started from the Mississippi, well now, that just sent a bunch of people over the edge. And then, you know what happened...all those people on the roads and some of them driving straight into trouble. Nobody ever did get a accurate count of all those poor dead people from the New Madrid and the flood. There wasn't no way to do it. Oh some folks, now, they got big
estimates, ideas of how many died, all together 'round the world. Millions and millions. But let's just say it was like the numbers from the biggest war there ever was. And then that damn fool President went and decided we were in a war! If that wasn't the stupidest jerk that ever lived! I know some folks say he just lost it, had a breakdown. One thing's for sure. He didn't have all the cards in his deck when he was decidin' to go to war. No, siree, he was a loose cannon and well, he paid for it, I guess. Don't do to speak ill of the dead."
San Juan Islands, on board the Rhondavous yacht
Margaret woke to the sounds of yelling. Scrambling up from her bed in one of the yacht's staterooms, she pulled on her clothes and stumbled out to the salon. Zack and Maria were walking in, Zack staring wildly around the room and Maria clutching his arm and talking softly to him to calm him down. Mayor Dubois and Alan Beakman appeared with the mayor looking thoroughly disgruntled.
"What the heck is going on? And who was yelling fit to wake the dead?" she asked.
"Dead--don't say that word right now," Zack requested, sinking down onto one of the couches.
Margaret asked, "Did you have the dream, Zack? About--"
"The volcano. Yes. I had the damn dream!" Zack responded, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. Maria sat close to him, rubbing his back with one hand.
"I thought you said it was a flood," Dusty Dubois said irritably.
Alan had walked to the TV and turned it on. As the sound came on, they all heard the announcer saying, "Massive earthquake on the New Madrid fault. We don't have any reports yet from our stations there, who all seem to be...ah...off the air."
"Huh! I had a glimpse of that earthquake, but I thought it was later. That's strange," Margaret offered.
"Strange?" Zack replied angrily. "Strange is it? Why didn't we warn them of an earthquake then, Margaret? And what are we going to do about the volcano? You don't seem surprised to hear of it."
"Well, no, I had the dream tonight too. And I guess none of it surprises me anymore," she replied.