Escaping Darkness (Book 2): The Cloud

by Richards, E. S.

  “This hasn’t been a good start, Mia.” He tugged down his own scarf a fraction so he could whisper to her as the two scientists fell into step side-by-side. “At this rate, it’ll take us months to get home.”

  “I know,” Mia murmured back, “but what other choice do we have?”

  “We should’ve just set out alone,” Jorge replied. “We’d be much quicker that way.”

  “We couldn’t just leave everyone behind,” Mia’s voice rose slightly at Jorge’s suggestion, appalled by what he was saying. Remembering their company and the already unpleasant atmosphere within the group she lowered it quickly, continuing their conversation in much more hushed tones. “They have as much right to survive as we do, Jorge. We don’t get to make the rules just because we have the best information.”

  “Normally that’s how it works,” Jorge grumbled, the unpleasant aspects of his character coming out in swaths as the conversation went on.

  Mia bit her tongue. She wanted to talk to Jorge properly, but she couldn’t abide what he was suggesting. Again she was reminded of his need to always be the best, to be number one or at least to appear that way to other people. She knew he was selfish, but she needed him on this journey and she couldn’t lead the group without him.

  “Okay,” she spoke, brushing over what had just happened and trying to get to her point. “Let’s forget about it. There was actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”

  Jorge raised his eyebrows, giving Mia a look that indicated she should continue. Looking at his face, Mia noticed that he was probably better groomed than she was. His eyebrows were perfect, not a hair out of place, and while her hair was unruly and matted with dirt from everything they had been through, his looked pristine and unsoiled. That was another thing she decided she didn’t like very much about Jorge; when a man took longer to get ready than a woman did in the morning Mia was always just a little bit suspicious.

  “Right,” she continued, trying to push thoughts of Jorge’s perfect eyebrows from her head. “This eruption. What do you think caused it?”

  “Caused it?” Jorge sounded surprised and a little amused. “Come on, Mia. We study this sort of thing every day. We know what caused it. The pressure builds up underneath the rock and then when the rock can’t hold it anymore, it erupts. It’s a volcano.”

  “I know that,” Mia sighed exasperatedly. Jorge was speaking to her like she was a child. She wasn’t an idiot, she just believed there were bigger forces at play than natural effects. “But Yellowstone shouldn’t have erupted. That volcano has been dormant forever. There shouldn’t have been that much added pressure under the rock face, and there hasn’t been any big tectonic plate movement that would’ve set it off.”

  “So what do you think caused it then?” Jorge questioned, the Spaniard himself now struggling to keep his voice low. “You must have an idea yourself or you wouldn’t bring it up. What do you think created all this mess?”

  “Fracking,” Mia replied after a few moments of silence. “The fracking activity around the national park has increased year after year in that area. The number of drills that go in and out of the ground every day is staggering. Some even in places which are supposed to be protected. I think the fracking set Yellowstone off. I don’t think this is a completely natural disaster.”

  Jorge contemplated Mia’s suggestion for a moment, letting her words sink in as he thought about the additional knowledge he also carried. He supposed it was a possibility. It made sense when you thought about it in the simplest terms, and if that happened more often than not, it was right. But still, what difference did it make?

  “I see where you’re coming from,” he replied, putting his thoughts into words. “But so what? The eruption has happened already; we’re not going to achieve anything by speculating over its cause.”

  “I know,” Mia replied, now starting to wonder why she’d bothered bringing it up. “It’s just interesting to think about, don’t you agree? Like you said, we study this sort of thing every day and have always said that Yellowstone would never erupt. We’ve just been proven wrong. Don’t you want to get to the bottom of it?”

  Slowly an idea started to form in Jorge’s mind. Perhaps Mia was right. If fracking was the cause of all of this, then ultimately, someone was to blame. He loved his work and he enjoyed every day of it, but Jorge knew it was never likely to make him famous. Deep down, that was what he wanted. But, if he could uncover first whether fracking was to blame for everything and then who had allowed it to go ahead, that could change things. The world would want answers and maybe, just maybe, he could be the one to give them to it.

  Chapter 4

  Walking down to the small village in the distance, Patrick couldn’t get the image of his dead wife out of his head. Harriet. She was so beautiful to him, even in death. He knew normally people didn’t like to see their loved ones after they had died, but for him that had been exactly what he wanted. Prior to finding Harriet on the ground at the end of the parking lot, the last memory he had had of her was watching her being swept away through the broken window. She’d ventured into the dangerous and swirling lahars in the airport lobby in a desperate attempt to save their other daughter, Tilly, not knowing how badly her actions would go.

  In fact, even though he had just laid Harriet’s body to rest in a way, Patrick still replayed that scene over and over again in his head as he walked. Allie’s hand was clutched firmly in his, just like it had been as they’d clung to the luggage rails above the water in the lobby. He didn’t want to ever let her go again. The four of them hadn’t been together when everything happened and as a result, he had lost two of his three girls. There was no chance he was ever going to lose Allie as well.

  When the water had smashed through the windows, the force of it had taken everyone by surprise. Tilly’s feet were swept out from underneath her, knocking her small body to the ground and away from the group in an instant. Without even hesitating, Harriet had gone after her. One look from his wife and Patrick knew he couldn’t go as well. They had twin daughters and both of them needed protecting. Acting on instinct, Patrick hauled Allie’s body up onto the luggage rail as quickly as he could, joining his daughter as they watched the lahars take control of the airport lobby.

  The water moved so quickly and so forcefully it was incredible to watch. Incredible, he remembered, but deadly too. As soon as he and Allie were safely lying across the rails, his eyes had scanned the building for his wife and second daughter, finding them in seconds.

  They were precariously balanced on one of the many sets of chairs scattered throughout the lobby. The ones thousands of people sat in over the years, watching the departure boards and waiting for their flight to be called. It didn’t look safe. The water level continued to rise around them as more and more of it flooded in through the open window, turning the lobby into more of a harbor than a departure lounge. Harriet locked eyes with her husband across the room, the two of them sharing a look of fear and understanding, both promising to protect their daughters to the very best of their abilities.

  Patrick would hear Tilly’s scream in his head for years to come. He would watch the moment when she misplaced her right foot and slipped into the water below over and over in his nightmares. It was there every time he closed his eyes, haunting him. His daughter, ripped out of Harriet’s arms and ferried toward the window on the other side of the lobby. The sound her body made as it crashed into it was so loud it could be happening right next to him. It was all Patrick focused on. It was all he was able to see. That, and his wife diving straight into the water behind her.

  The sensation of Allie’s hand in his own as they walked grounded Patrick. He took a deep breath and forced himself not to replay the moment any further. He knew what happened next and he didn’t want to see it again. He still had Allie, and he knew he had to focus all of his energy on keeping her safe now.

  “How are you doing, sweetheart?” Patrick questioned his daughter, earning nothing more than a squ
eeze of the hand from his eight-year-old He didn’t expect her to reply. What should a girl of her age say after something like this had happened? She was intelligent for her age—both Allie and Tilly had been—but this was something else. This was more than any child should ever have to experience.

  Allie had never spent more than three days without Tilly by her side. They had been born just minutes apart, Allie chasing Tilly down and arriving just four minutes later. The hospital had said it was one of the quickest twin births they’d seen all year. Ever since their very first second, Allie and Tilly had been inseparable.

  Patrick had always wondered what it would be like to have a twin. The connection between them was unmistakable from a young age. If one of them was sad or hungry or wanted something, you could be certain the other one wanted it too. It was like, at times, that their minds worked as one. The fact that they were identical potentially helped with that, every aspect of their lives exactly the same as the other’s.

  Looking down at his daughter, Patrick knew that Allie must feel like she’d lost a part of herself. When Tilly was tired, Allie was tired. When Tilly had a stomachache, Allie had a stomachache. Even when Tilly fell from the jungle gym at school and twisted her wrist, Allie woke up in the night and complained of pain in the exact same place.

  Now Tilly was dead. A lump formed in Patrick’s throat when he thought about it. He wasn’t about to wonder which of them felt worse, but he knew and understood the pain Allie had to be feeling. If she didn’t want to talk about it now, that was fine, but he would be there for her the very second that she did.

  Focusing more on their surroundings in an attempt to keep his mind occupied, Patrick surveyed the landscape and the small village they were approaching. Michael was walking not that far ahead of him, the man eager to get down there. In an attempt to save his sanity, Patrick sped up slightly, pulling Allie alongside him so he could try and start up a conversation with his fellow man.

  “You live down there, huh?”

  Hearing it out loud, Patrick realized what an insensitive way to start a conversation that was. He regretted it immediately, seeing the look of worry in Michael’s eyes as he turned to look at him and nod.

  “I’m sorry.” Patrick stumbled over his words now, trying to choose them carefully. “I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I, err, are you all right, man?”

  “Yeah,” Michael replied with a shrug. “I’m just worried about my family.”

  “I get that,” Patrick nodded. “Who’ve you got down there?”

  Without turning his head this time, Michael replied, trying to keep the emotion that was eating him up inside out of his voice. “My mom,” his voice was barely above a whisper. “My kids don’t live here anymore. First time I’ve ever been thankful for that.”

  “You’ve got kids?” Patrick couldn’t help but sound surprised. He didn’t know Michael at all, but from what he’d experienced he hadn’t pegged him for a family man. “How old are they?”

  “Eleven and nine now.” A smile crossed Michael’s face as he thought of them, showing the love that only a father could feel. “My ex moved away with them almost five years ago now though. She always hated this place. I just couldn’t leave Mom. She’s not very healthy and so normally either Angie or I stay home with her and work alternate shifts. Yesterday was the first time we’ve both had to work in months. Figures.”

  Patrick was quiet. He had just learned more about Michael in that one sentence than he had over the past forty-eight hours with the man. It was always surprising how a disaster made people suddenly so willing to open up. “So, is Angelica your sister then?”

  “Half, technically,” Michael replied. “Same mom, different dads, but neither of them were around for very long. Mine died and then hers ran off. Disgraceful. I know I’m not with my missus anymore, but that was a mutual decision. I would never just run off and leave my kids behind. Kills me not seeing them every day.”

  “I know that feeling,” Patrick replied, giving Allie’s hand another gentle squeeze in his own. He couldn’t tell whether she was listening or off in her own world; either way he wanted her to know how much he cared.

  “Aw, man,” Michael suddenly slowed and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m sorry man, totally slipped my mind about—you know. How are you doing?”

  “I’m okay,” Patrick lied. He was far from okay, but Michael didn’t need to hear him whine and cry about his loss. He didn’t want to talk about it anyway. For some it made it easier. For Patrick, it only made things worse. “I mean, I will be. Eventually. If it’s all right with you, I’d rather not talk about it, though to be fair, having this conversation is already making me feel better. Taking my mind off it, you know?”

  “Well.” Michael pursed his lips and nodded his head a few times, unsure what to say all of a sudden. “Whatever helps, man.”

  “What are your kids’ names?” Patrick asked, eager to keep Michael talking and save himself from getting lost in his thoughts again. Unlike for him, talking about his issues seemed to make Michael feel better and so the chatter made sense for both of them.

  “Logan and Lucie.” That wistful smile crossed Michael’s face once more. “Logan’s eleven, Lucie’s nine. She’s a fireball though, doesn’t let Logan get away with anything. She’s going to be be a real ball-breaker when she’s older, I tell you. I feel sorry for whichever man she wraps around her little finger.”

  Patrick let out a little laugh, thinking of some of the ways Allie and Tilly had shown those characteristics to him in the past. “She sounds great,” he chuckled. “Where are they now? Your kids? You said your ex moved away?”

  “Ah yeah,” Michael’s mood dropped a little. “Be five years ago this Christmas. She went way across state. Portland, Oregon. Wanted to raise the kids near the sea, she said. I don’t blame her really. This little town will never amount to much.”

  “That sucks,” Patrick consoled Michael. “Do you get to see them much?”

  “I try and get out there once a month, but it’s hard, you know? Especially with the way Mom is now. I can only really go and visit when Angie can look after her, and Sara—that’s my ex, by the way—never wants to come back over here. So it’s less and less these days. Haven’t seen them since the end of April now.”

  “Jeez, man, that’s rough.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Michael agreed. “I talk to them every week, like over video and stuff, but it’s not really the same. I’m missing out on so much of their childhood, but I just can’t leave my mom.”

  “We’re all going to be heading in that direction,” Patrick suggested. “Like, we want to get back to Seattle and Mia said she’d get us there. That’s only a couple hundred miles from Portland. I’m sure you could go there too.”

  “Yeah, I have thought about that.” Michael mulled it over in his head. “But like I said, I can’t leave my mom. You’ll understand when we get there. I’ll introduce you to her. I’d love so much to go to my kids right now and to wrap my arms around them, but sadly it’s just not an option.”

  Patrick nodded. He could understand what Michael was saying to a degree, but to him the most important thing in the world was his children. His child. While the conversation with Michael had served him well as a distraction, it didn’t take much for Patrick to remember the harsh reality of the situation. His wife and one of his daughters were dead. Allie was all he had left in the world. Although they were heading back to Seattle eventually, there was nothing much there for them except an old house with lots of empty rooms. He couldn’t imagine sleeping in his bed without Harriet by his side, or tucking Allie into bed without Tilly sleeping across from her. Their lives had been changed forever and no amount of creature comforts would ever bring the rest of his family back.

  He felt for Michael though. He didn’t want to ask what was wrong with his mother, though Patrick was sure Michael would tell him if he did. It just didn’t seem like his place, and besides, it couldn’t be more than anothe
r couple of hours before they would reach the small collection of houses in the distance. Apparently then he would meet Michael and Angelica’s mother for himself and then he would have the explanation.

  Looking over at Angelica as she walked—close enough that she could’ve heard and joined in on the conversation but far enough away to suggest that she didn’t want to—Patrick worried about her as well. She was clearly equally as affected by the state of her home as Michael was, though she was dealing with it in a very different way. Her mourning was more like Allie’s, a silent orchestra of emotion trapped inside her. Patrick was uncertain which was worse.

  As the minutes passed and they drew ever closer to the houses, Patrick found himself just hoping that too many people hadn’t died. They had all experienced so much loss already and he didn’t think the group could handle much more. He didn’t want Allie to witness any more death. He didn’t want her to be exposed to any more suffering. He couldn’t bear for her to be in pain—though he was sadly certain that she already was. All he could do was hold her hand and wait for everything to be over.

  Chapter 5

  “Well isn’t this nice?” Jerry stuck his head around the door of the spare back bedroom, finding his wife and two grandchildren in a group on the floor. “What are you all doing?”

  All three of them snapped their heads up, each lost in their own thoughts as they reminisced about life before everything that had happened. Yellowstone was just one factor that had affected their family life; losing Brogan and Lauren was undoubtedly more important to everyone.

  “Riley found some of our old photo albums.” Linda smiled up at her husband, hoping he would understand from her sentence the gravitas that it carried. “We’ve just been looking through some of the pictures.”

  “Ah.” Jerry nodded. He understood. “Well, can I help any of you up? I’ve brewed a pot of coffee downstairs that’s getting cold.”