by Tim Washburn
Josh’s gaze sweeps across the video displays. “The earthquakes are swarming and getting stronger, aren’t they?”
“Josh, hustle up now. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”
Josh stifles the I told you so that lingers on the tip of his tongue and rushes through the door for another race down the hall, his heart hammering faster than hummingbird wings, and not just from the physical exertion.
* * *
(Editor’s Note: All interviews were conducted by Casey Cartwright as she traveled between survivor camps located throughout the southeastern United States while working on her master’s thesis.)
Camp 2–Clearwater, Florida
Interview: Paul from Provo, UT—geology grad student
“The tension and excitement in the seismology lab were palpable. And the tension really ratcheted up when the seismograms indicated the earthquakes were intensifying. Dr. Snider was running around like a wild man. Then we started getting information from the GPS units located at the park. I think everyone knew then that something big was going to happen. It’s one of those moments that occur once in a lifetime, like where you were on 9/11 or when JFK was shot. I’ll remember being in that room for the rest of my life.”
CHAPTER 4
U.S. Geological Survey Yellowstone Volcano Observatory,
Menlo Park, California
Dr. Jeremy Lyndsey, chief scientist for the Yellowstone Volcano Observatory, curses under his breath as he wipes at the residue that his breakfast burrito burped onto his freshly laundered shirt. In the middle of his efforts, his office phone buzzes. Frustrated, he tosses the remainder of the burrito into the garbage and grabs the phone.
Before he can even say hello, Dr. Eric Snider says, “Yellowstone is experiencing an intense earthquake swarm.”
“Good morning to you, too, Eric. What magnitudes are you seeing?”
“The last one was a little over 4.2. And that follows several quakes in the high threes.”
Lyndsey wiggles the mouse to wake his computer, then logs into the seismic feeds. “They’re nearly unrelenting, aren’t they?”
“Yes, but that’s not what concerns me. Look at the rapid increase in magnitude.”
“Earthquakes in the low fours are fairly uncommon, but not unheard of for the park,” he mumbles into the phone while scrolling through the webicorder displays. “It doesn’t appear any of the tremors have exceeded previous levels.”
“Yet,” Snider says. “Pull up the GPS data. We have increasing uplift out by the lake over the past couple of hours. Some as much as two inches. When’s the last time you’ve seen ground deformation numbers like that?”
“Been a while. But again, not unheard of. Is there any unusual hydrothermal activity?” Lyndsey asks.
“Don’t know. Tucker is next on my list of calls.”
“Can you have some of your grad students plot the seismic waves to see if there have been any obvious changes in the magma chamber?”
“They’re already feeding the data into the mainframe, but it’s going to be a slow process. I’m not sure what that’s going to tell us, anyway. We know the levels fluctuate somewhat because of the gaseous nature of the magma.”
“It might tell us whether the amount of magma is on the increase,” Lyndsey says. “Any uplift on the other GPS sensors?”
“Some, but not as significant as the area around Yellowstone Lake. But two inches uplift . . . damn.”
“What?”
“Another quake. The needles are bouncing like a rubber ball. This one’s the largest of the morning.”
“Where and how large?” Lyndsey asks as he clicks between seismometers.
“Old Faithful. Won’t know until we run the data, but my guess is in the high fours or low fives.”
“Damn,” Lyndsey whispers. “Okay, Eric, I need an update every few minutes, either by text or e-mail. I need to makes some phone calls.”
“Do you think this activity warrants a discussion about a possible evacuation of the park?” Snider asks.
“We’re a long way from even contemplating a park evacuation. The damn thing hasn’t erupted in 640,000 years. I think we have a few days to further study the situation.”
CHAPTER 5
Cundiff Trust Well No. 3, south of Cody, Wyoming
Forty miles east of Yellowstone’s eastern boundary, Kenny Huff focuses all of his attention on an array of computer screens inside the control room of his wireline truck. A large, burly man with thick arms and broad shoulders, Kenny is a thirty-year veteran of the oil patch, who went from tool pusher to owner of his own business. Huff Wireline Services rig number one, out of one, is parked in a mud puddle near the Christmas tree atop a recently drilled oil well. A large spool of wire mounted at the back of the truck feeds line into the valve stack—an amalgam of wheels, valves, and pressure gauges that stands over ten feet tall with horizontal branches jutting out in every direction. The stack looks like a scarecrow assembled by a mad plumber. But its purpose is critical to control the enormous pressures inside the drill hole that extends ten thousand feet into the earth. Of all the valves and gauges, the production wing valve is the one that controls the flow of oil and natural gas to the production facilities.
But only if they can get the well to flow.
And that’s Kenny’s job. His eyes dart from one computer monitor to another as the perforation gun sinks closer to the target area.
“Almost there?” Hank Caldwell, the oil company’s geologist, asks after an impatient sigh. A short, thin man with rectangular glasses perched atop his aquiline nose, Hank is more at home in his office back at headquarters than out in the oil fields. But as a field geologist, he is required to sit on a well during any scheduled activity.
“Another four feet,” Kenny says as his pudgy fingers nudge the joystick controller forward before bringing the joystick to a dead stop. “On target.”
Hank compares the depth on the screen to the well log folded out across the desk. “Perf the damn thing. We should have been frackin’ last week.”
“Fire in the hole,” Kenny says as he toggles a red switch.
There is no discernable difference on the surface, but deep in the drill hole a series of shaped charges explodes through the well casing and into the surrounding rock. The perforations will allow the hydraulic fracturing fluids, injected under extreme pressure, a path into the rock formations. If all goes according to plan, the fractured rock will release its hold on the oil and gas that has been in the ground for millions of years.
Kenny swivels his chair around. “Any other zones you want to hit?”
“That’s about the only pay zone we’ve got. But I have another well for you to shoot this afternoon.”
“Roger that. Where?”
Hank gives him the location of the next well and folds up the well log. He pushes out of the chair and eases his cell phone from his pocket. “Now, will you kindly get your wire out of my drill hole so I can get back to work?”
“Hell, Hank, you don’t know what work is.” Kenny nods toward the cell phone in Hank’s hand. “The only thing you work is that phone, and maybe your wife once a month.”
“Hell, I wish it was once a month.”
Both men laugh as Kenny pulls on the joystick to reel in the line. “Hey, Hank, you ever work offshore?”
“No, I like my feet planted on the terra firma. Why?”
Kenny swivels around, a broad grin wrinkling his weathered face. “You know what the offshore guys call the night before they go off shift?”
“No idea.”
“Pussmas Eve.”
Hank laughs and reaches for the door handle. “Yeah, Pussmas Eve is closer to Christmas Eve around my house. It only happens once a year. You be out of here before lunch?”
“Should be. When’s the fracking crew coming in?”
“They’re going to start setting up around one.”
“We’ll be gone before then. I’ll see you this afternoon.”
Hank waves a han
d in the air as he exits the control room. As his feet touch down, the ground wobbles underfoot, and Hank grabs the door handle to keep from falling. The big truck sways from side to side and after ten to fifteen seconds the motion stops. But Hank’s brain continues to spin with fiery images of death and destruction caused by a well blowout. He yanks open the door to see an ashen-faced Kenny still at the controls.
“What the hell was that?” Hank shouts.
Kenny scans the gauges and monitors. “Well pressure’s fine. Must have been an earthquake.”
Camp 48–Marietta, Georgia
Interview: Eric from Early, TX—oil field tool pusher
“Yeah, we was working up that way. Trying to complete a well just outside Cody. I’ve tromped through a bunch of oil patches in my time and I can guar-an-tee you, drilling work ain’t got nothing to do with earthquakes. All these gotdamn tree huggers yelling about frackin’ and drillin’ drive me batshit crazy. How the hell they think their heaters work when they get home and click ’em on? Or when they want to take a hot damn shower? Natural gas, that’s how. And it don’t just pour out of the gotdamn ground. Anyway . . . that’s kinda off subject. Yeah, we was already in the truck headed home when it all started.”
CHAPTER 6
Lower Geyser Basin
There is no sense of panic among the park guests as the rangers herd them away from Old Faithful. Matt slows his progress as one of the rangers nears. “Sir, are you evacuating the entire park?”
Jess reaches her hand out to slow the children so she can listen in.
“No, just this area around the geysers. They might get a little cranky and erratic during these earthquake swarms.”
Jess steps away from the children and lowers her voice when she confronts the ranger. “The earthquakes are increasing in intensity.”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that, ma’am. What I can tell you is, the park is frequently rattled by small quakes. I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. You guys staying here in the park?”
“We’re staying at the inn,” Jess says, “but I don’t share your lack of concern. “You do know we’re standing on top of one of the largest volcanoes on earth.”
“Yes, ma’am, but I also know there wasn’t a human alive to see it the last time she popped off.”
“All the more reason to be worried,” Jess says before turning and stalking away.
The Old Faithful Inn is the largest log structure in the world, and by the time the Mayfields navigate through the narrow corridors toward their room, everyone is tired and hungry, after having skipped breakfast.
“Let’s rest in the room for a while before we head back out,” Jess says. “Dad’s trying to get in touch with Uncle Tucker to see about lunch. That sound okay?”
Neither child replies, and the door to their room swings open. Both Maddie and Mason immediately grab their iPads and collapse on the sofa. Jess waits for Matt to glance in her direction, then nods toward the balcony beyond the sliding glass door. They step outside and she slides the door closed.
“Are we having balcony sex?” Matt whispers.
“Sure. Where the kids can watch, along with all those people milling around below us. I’m worried, Matt.”
“Honey, you heard the ranger. They experience quakes all the time.”
“Have you ever done any reading about this volcano?”
“Not really, no. I read something about it while planning our trip, but nothing in depth.”
Jess snuggles up next to Matt and lowers her voice. “The Yellowstone Caldera is a supervolcano. The volcanoes in the Hawaiian Islands are called mountain builders because their lava drifts down the mountainside, building ever higher over time. A supervolcano is a mountain eraser. They erupt with such force that the surrounding land collapses into the magma chamber. Yellowstone’s magma chamber is almost eighteen miles wide and nearly fifty-five miles long and extends underground for miles. There will be no bubbling of lava where spectators can snap pictures as the molten rock meanders across the landscape.”
Jess pauses to glance in on the children before continuing. “A Yellowstone eruption will be devastating for the entire planet.”
“I remember hearing about the Mount St. Helens eruption when I was a kid, but I didn’t think there was much to it, other than a fairly large ash cloud.”
Jess pinches her thumb and forefinger together to form a tiny circle. “This is the Mount St. Helens eruption.” She releases her fingers and spreads her arms out wide. “This would be the size of a Yellowstone eruption. It would be a thousand times larger than the eruption of St. Helens. Some scientists have speculated that an eruption here would be like a thousand Hiroshima-sized bombs detonating every second.”
“Okay, I’m spooked. Are you thinking one of these earthquakes could trigger an eruption?”
“If it’s large enough, sure. But earthquakes aren’t the only thing that could trigger an eruption.”
“What else?” Matt asks.
“That’s just it, Matt: No one knows for sure what triggers an eruption. Could be pressure or a sudden ejection of magma into the chamber. But a large earthquake has a higher probability for triggering an eruption.”
“So you’re saying this thing could erupt any moment?” Matt asks.
Jess taps her foot in frustration. “No, what I’m saying is that no one can accurately predict the precise timing of an eruption. It’s all guesswork. But I damn sure don’t want to be standing here if it does. If these earthquakes continue to increase in intensity we need to pack up and get the hell out of here.”
Matt and Jess lean against the rail of the balcony in silence, each consumed by thoughts of their own version of Armageddon. A squeal of laughter from a group of children playing below the balcony does little to lighten the mood. After a few moments of silence, Jess sighs and reaches for the door. She pastes a smile on her face and slides the door open. “Are we having fun, kiddos?”
CHAPTER 7
Yellowstone Center for Resources
Back in his office, Tucker hangs up the phone and runs a hand through his hair. Most of those working at the Center for Resources have a science background and are accustomed to dealing with facts supported by reams of data, but they aren’t immune to fear. And the just-completed discussion with Jeremy Lyndsey elicited the first real hints of fear for Tucker. He stands to his full height of six feet two and paces the confines of his small office while his mind spins. Could a stronger quake really cause a volcanic eruption? Not just any possible eruption, but the largest volcanic eruption in the history of mankind? But the park experiences earthquakes all the time. Are these any different?
Tucker walks toward the window and glances out at the distant peaks of the Gallatin Range. It’s an overreaction. No way the caldera is going to erupt. But what if?
As if answering his question, the photographs and degrees hanging on the wall jitter and jump as another tremor rumbles. Either the earthquakes are getting stronger or the epicenters are moving farther north. Mammoth Hot Springs is the northern gateway for the park and a good fifty miles from the center of the park, where most of the earthquakes are occurring.
Tucker returns to his desk and sags into his chair. Although the air conditioner is cranked to high, a bead of perspiration pops on his forehead. He wipes away the sweat and reaches for the phone. Park Superintendent Ralph Barlow answers on the second ring.
“Sir, all of us at Yellowstone Volcano Observatory are somewhat concerned about the increase in earthquake activity.”
“I just felt one, I think. Where is the epicenter?”
“Most of the activity is centered around the Old Faithful area and the Yellowstone Lake region. Our main concern is the rising intensity of the quakes.”
“Where are they on the scale?”
“The last one was just over 4.2 in magnitude at a depth of two miles, centered under Yellowstone Lake.”
A hiss of air sounds from the other end of the connection. “Jeez, that’s
a damn unstable area, Tucker. Any thoughts about what’s causing this latest round?”
“Nothing definitive. There is some concern that there might have been a subsurface injection of magma into the main chamber.”
“Meaning what?” Barlow asks. His voice lowers a couple of octaves before asking, “You’re not suggesting a volcanic eruption is imminent, are you?”
“I don’t think anyone believes the caldera is on the verge of eruption. But there is an elevated level of concern. With your permission, I’d like to call in most of the off-duty rangers and have them fan out through the park around the geyser basins and the mud pot areas.”
“Why those areas specifically?”
“Mainly to see if there are any significant changes in the hydrothermal systems. A change in intensity of the geysers or the creation of new mud pot areas could indicate an increase in magma activity,” Tucker says. “In addition, the GPS sensors in that section of the park suggest an upward moving deformation and the borehole tiltmeters on the east side of the lake suggest a general upward tilt.”
“Meaning magma could be rising toward the surface?”
A brief period of silence fills the line before Tucker answers. “Maybe.”
“Jesus Christ, we’re at the peak of the summer season. We have thousands of park visitors scattered all across the damn park. And the safety of every one of those visitors is my responsibility.”
“I understand, Ralph. These could simply be anomalies.”
“Or not. I need answers, Tucker.”