2014 Year of the Horse

by Liliane Parkinson

  The earth kept moving, shuddering and shaking as the taniwha sleeping beneath the ground twitched and tossed about. It was terrifying. Nothing worked. There was no power or running water. The phones were useless. Rex set the radio frequency to the emergency station but it spat and crackled at him. None of the normal stations worked.

  “It’s dead,” he said in frustration. Between the rumbling tremors, a peculiar silence pressed down on their eardrums then the protesting creaks of swaying timber, the crash of things falling and muted cries of alarm rushed in. The simultaneous sounds seemed distinct. With every tremor the sky lightened as day crept onto the shattered city. George forgot about everything except the woman in his arms.

  CHAPTER 65

  The violent jolts woke all the residents in Rarangi and further away in Blenheim. Jennifer was sure that she was at the epicentre of the quake. She’d never felt a shake like it in her life. It woke Em too and she rushed to comfort her daughter. After the first massive jolt there was complete silence. It was eerie. She could not hear the waves pounding on the stony beach. There was no wind. It was as if the universe was holding its breath in fear.

  The fire-station siren suddenly filled the silence. It went on and on as the aftershocks continued to jolt the house. Jennifer dressed quickly. Even without the shrill noise she knew it was an emergency for Rarangi was exposed to the sea and at risk from tsunamis. She had no idea how much time she had but she didn’t dither. She stuffed things hurriedly into a bag and strapped Em into the car seat. She could see the moving headlights climbing the hill as other panicked residents fled to higher ground. She joined the exodus.

  CHAPTER 66

  Brady pointed to the big monitor and Wesley dropped all pretence of reading. This was what they had spent the last hour waiting for and they grinned at each other. The wine was ready to be poured into the glasses. They sat forward, alert with anticipation.

  “We interrupt this program with breaking news from New Zealand. An earthquake registering 8. 2 on the Richter scale has been recorded in New Zealand.”

  The words grabbed their attention. Brady’s grin became a tense grimace, his eyes widening in shock. Wesley’s face lost all colour and his hands gripped the arms of his chair, his alarm clearly visible.

  “Monitoring stations around the Pacific Rim were the first to report the quake which occurred at 5am local time. It is calculated to have been centred on the capital Wellington. No confirmation has yet been received from sources within New Zealand. Satellite communications have been disrupted due to an unknown failure at the INTELSAT earth station which is no longer transmitting. This station is located outside the earthquake affected areas so the failure is believed to be unrelated. Alternate means of communication also appear to have broken down.”

  As they listened intently, their visions of success vanished.

  “Wellington, host city to the Fourth Reaching Out Across Regions Forum was today poised to become the focus of the world’s attention, as delegates from around the globe meet together to formulate regional financial policies for the next four years. Many of our economic and trade leaders are attending and we have been unable to confirm their safety. It’s as if Wellington has disappeared from the face of the world. The US government will deploy one of its satellites to give us on the ground images. It will be some hours before New Zealand is within range and we have a better understanding of what is happening.”

  They listened in disbelief. Brady glanced at Wesley hunched forward, his attention fixed to the TV. Colour had washed from his face. He looked up and Brady saw his thoughts written all over his face. It was a disaster in every sense of the word. He had played and lost. Worse still Brady knew that they were now in danger of being exposed. Gone were his cocky feelings, gone his triumphant anticipation, chased away by visions of ignominy. No-one would remember him after this. He slumped, unable to utter one meaningful sound, paralysed by the devastation which had totally undermined his meticulous preparations.

  Regularly the news reports were updated.

  “A state of emergency has been declared in New Zealand as a series of tsunamis have been recorded around the coastline of both the North and South Islands. There has been considerable damage along the shoreline of the Marlborough Sounds. As it travelled down the Sounds the wave gained height and power, inundating low lying areas and causing considerable shoreline damage. Officials evacuated the township of Picton and surrounding areas with no reports yet of deaths resulting from the tsunami. The town itself has sustained significant damage ... Tsunami warnings have been issued for the Islands of the Pacific and the western coastlines of South America.

  “Scientists have determined that the epicentre occurred 15 km below the CBD and officials fear that the death toll will be significantly higher than at Napier and Christchurch, the sites of New Zealand’s most significant quake events in the last one hundred years.

  “We have been unable to establish any direct contact with survivors in Wellington however observations are coming in from surveillance planes which report that the city is isolated with landslips blocking both State Highway one and two. Bridges have collapsed and the geography of the city has been changed with large areas of the seabed exposed. At the epicentre almost half the buildings appear to be damaged or destroyed. In contrast to the uplift which is clearly visible at the Petone end of the harbour, land around Wellington airport seems to have slumped. The runway is currently under sea level and the suburbs of Miramar, Strathmore Park and Seatoun now sit on a newly formed island. It appears that this forms a new channel or entrance into Wellington Harbour. Fortunately the timing of the quake meant most locals were asleep. Helicopters have landed the first emergency crews and relief agencies are mobilising. By all accounts the situation on the ground is chaotic.”

  Brady and Wesley looked at each other, neither giving voice to their thoughts. The news report continued.

  “Scientists have known for many years that the Australian Plate is moving rapidly north northeast over and against the Pacific plate. These tectonic plates rub against each other under New Zealand and specifically under Wellington where three major fault lines converge. Over the years immense forces build up which are eventually released as earthquakes. Wellington’s last major quake occurred in 1855 and was of the same magnitude as today’s tremor. More recently several large quakes devastated Christchurch, the largest city in the South Island. New Zealand is not known as the Shaky Isles for nothing.”

  Forgotten, the bottle of wine continued to breathe. It was losing its freshness.

  Wesley dragged himself up from the chair. Brady hardly heard Wesley’ speak or noticed him leave. His mind was in turmoil and Wesley’s warning made no impression. His attention was glued, in stunned incomprehension, to the TV monitor. When he finally looked up Wesley was long gone.

  Too late, he thought with guilty relief, to tell him about the attacks, the sabotage and the disruption he had unleashed. Tomorrow or the next day it would no doubt fill the tabloids and the TV news.

  Wesley would find out soon enough.

  CHAPTER 67

  As night became day the remodelled streetscape emerged and residents looked around themselves in dazed bemusement. Rex and Edith set about encouraging and organising their neighbourhood. Their Civil Defence training was finally being put into practice and they knew what to do. Water, shelter, safety and reassurance were priorities and they knew not to expect outside help for some time. During training it had been emphasised that communities had to concentrate on helping each other and on finding their own solutions to immediate needs.

  They worked together with the smooth efficiency of people who understood each other. Survivors needed to be organised and given tasks so Rex sorted out the activities and allocated responsibilities; long drops were dug, bucket toilets improvised, water bottles collected, shelter organised and children were reassured and cared for. Food was recovered from devastated kitchens and assessed. Thanks to their regular Civil Defence reminders
, the residents were in good spirits knowing they were prepared.

  George sat with Pania and watched the sky lighten. The ground under him continued to shudder at unexpected moments, just when things settled another jolt remined him it was not over quite yet.

  “How’s Pania?” Edith’s voice startled him and he looked over his shoulder to see her peering over the fence at them.

  “She’s okay I think. Bruised and battered but no bones broken.”

  Pania stirred. “What’s happened,” she asked.

  “Why don’t you both come over to my place,” Edith suggested. “You’ll be more comfortable on my veranda. There’s a lounger you can use and bottomless cups of tea and coffee. Apart from a few broken plates we’ve weathered the jolts quite well. Some of the neighbours are there all ready so you’ll have plenty of company. If we get any more big ones it’ll be easy to make a quick exit.”

  George could smell toast cooking and it reminded him that they hadn’t had breakfast yet. He felt Pania move to get up and quickly stood to help her. Together they skirted the rose bushes, Pania groaned under her breath with every step. As they came closer he could hear snatches of conversations. Everyone stopped talking when they came into view and several women rushed down the steps to greet Pania. They fussed over her like mother hens and soon she was comfortably settled on the lounger, the rug securely wrapped around her and a mug of steaming tea in warming her hands. George watched from the sidelines, the slightly burnt toast covered in a thick layer of honey crunching between his teeth. It was obvious that Pania had not broken any bones but the knock on her head worried him as she repeated the same questions over and over, unable to remember what had happened.

  All that long day the earth shuddered, jolt after bone shaking jolt. With phones out of action, electricity cut and radio broadcasts inoperable it was impossible to coordinate citywide rescue efforts. Those in the inner city above the epicentre of the quake felt utterly abandoned and alone. Their confusion and terror grew with each shuddering uplift, each thundering explosion as buildings collapsed. Rex and Edith worked tirelessly, comforting and reassuring their neighbours in the relative safety of the valley suburb.

  With Pania being fussed over by the capable Edith and her helpers, George felt redundant. He felt himself an outsider and wandered aimlessly deep in thought. Rex noticed him pacing around the garden.

  “George, now that Edith’s watching Pania I wondered if you could see what the situation’s like in Wellington.”

  George nodded relieved to finally have something to do. “Sure, I can do that.”

  “Let’s see if we can find Pania’s bike. I’ve often seen her on it. There’s no point in driving, the roads will be impassable but you might get further on a bike.”

  “A bike! It’s years since I was on two wheels. I guess it’ll come back to me. You’re probably right about the roads.”

  They found her mountain bike. It was undamaged although the shed had a distinct lean. It was then that George noticed Pania’s VW. All its tires were slashed and graffiti danced across the bonnet. His shocked gasp alerted Rex who stared at the vandalism.

  “Who would do this? Poor Pania. She’ll be heartbroken when she sees this.”

  George knew who was responsible but now was not the time to explain things to Rex.

  “Let’s not tell her for now. She doesn’t need to know yet. It must have happened earlier before the earthquake. Perhaps I can fix the tires and we can clean off the graffiti before she sees it? She’s had enough to deal with on one day. Do you agree?”

  “You’re right George. There’s nothing she can do about it at the moment and telling her won’t make it better. Let’s get this bike out and you on the way.”

  “Sure. Let’s keep this between us for now. I’ll just tell Pania what I’m doing and where I’m going. Won’t be a minute!”

  Rex waited holding the bike, a troubled frown on his face. It seemed incomprehensible that anyone should deliberately set out to upset Pania. Around him everything was so quiet. It felt like Sunday morning before people woke and filled the air with noise. George returned and took the bike. Together they walked out to the kerb. Rex gave directions.

  “Head that way, towards the sea and then once you hit the Esplanade turn right. That should take you to the Hutt Road and Wellington. Don’t forget to ride on the left side of the street and take care at the corners! Good luck.”

  George laughed. His laughter sounded strange in his ears after all the terror.

  “I won’t forget. I’ll report back when I return. See you!”

  He started pedalling in the direction of the city. It took him a minute to master the gears but in no time he felt confident and started to enjoy his mission. He soon found his way blocked. About an hour later he returned. He was greeted like a long lost friend. Everyone gathered around him to hear his news.

  “I couldn’t get far. The roads are a mess and several times I had to get off and lift the bike over a crack in the asphalt. I reached the Esplanade and turned right but then couldn’t go much further. The access onto the freeway is destroyed; the over-bridge has collapsed onto the road below and the land has been lifted. I could see the fault line clearly. The shoreline’s all different; where yesterday there was water today I could only see a muddy expanse. There is no way we can get to Wellington.”

  “What did the city look like?”

  He was silent as the images appeared before his eyes. He swallowed.

  “I didn’t recognise it. There are some buildings still standing but those next to them are just clouds of dust. I couldn’t believe my eyes.” His hand moved over his eyes as if he could wipe away the impressions. “Looking around I saw smoke rising. I’d guess it’s evidence of earlier fires. There are lots of landslips on the hills and it’s really quiet. No traffic noise and no city hum. On the Esplanade I passed groups of people standing around trying to understand what they were seeing. I spoke to some and I got the impression most people in this area seem to have survived. Houses totter in various states of collapse but I didn’t pass any that were completely destroyed.”

  “What do we do now?” someone called.

  “I was told they’re calling for volunteers to meet at the Rec grounds. There they’ll be assigned to relief work and anyone homeless can go to the nearest school ... You’re doing a great job here Rex; and Edith too. Perhaps someone should report that we can survive on our own for a few days? What’s your assessment? Three or four day’s water and food?”

  “More,” Rex quickly assessed the situation. “If we’re careful and ration things fairly we could probably get by for a week that is unless there are further massive quakes and things turn belly up. Water will probably be an issue before we run out of food. We can use the water in the Sargeson’s pool if we run short. If it comes to that, Edith and I have a supply of sterilising tablets. In the meantime, that water should be okay for washing and cleaning and we have plenty of buckets.” He pointed to the buckets lying on the lawn. “Is everyone willing to cooperate, agree to rationing and prepared to pool resources?”

  He looked around the people gathered on his lawn. Worry lines etched their faces and young children were held firmly in their mother’s arms. Even the older children, usually boisterous, were subdued, staying within sight of their parents. With every tremor they flinched in anticipation that it would be another big one and some burst into loud sobs and clutched at their mums. They all showed signs of stress but they were resourceful and down-to-earth and would get by. They trusted him and all nodded or mumbled agreement.

  “I need a couple of volunteers to help Edith and someone who will go with me to the ‘Rec’ grounds to report our situation. I can understand that power and phones are down but not why the radio is dead and cell phones not working. At CD they always told us the radio would broadcast directions but I can’t get anything.” A worried frown creased his forehead. He shook his head. It was no good focussing on what they couldn’t do. CD always taught that the
y had to concentrate on the possible and make do. They had to rely on ingenuity and number eight wire technology, or so he remembered from the manual. It was a bit like the role-plays he and Edith used for training the new volunteers, only this time it was for real.

  CHAPTER 68

  It was the afternoon on September 9, when the LAN Chile flight carrying Fernando finally landed in Santiago. It felt so good to be back in South America, to hear Spanish spoken and to be amongst people who looked like him. He felt more alive when he stepped out of the plane than he had in all his time away. He made his way through passport control, located his luggage and exited customs. He asked for directions to the LAN Chile bookings desk where he planned to get replacement tickets. As he passed, the TV screen caught his attention. Mid step, he stopped in shock. Frank had told him the party would start but surely he hadn’t meant this? He listened carefully as the news reader concluded.

  “A tsunami warning has been issued to exposed areas along the South American coast line. It is expected to be some hours before the first waves hit the coast. Experts predict a series of waves of varying intensity and force. People in low lying areas are urged to leave immediately for higher ground and are warned to avoid returning until the all clear has been issued.”

  Fernando found a seat to consider the news he had just heard. It would be wise to cover his tracks. He considered his options. He’d converted his last Kiwi dollars into American ones at Auckland so carried enough funds to survive. He would go native … on foot … catch an occasional local bus or train ride … find unsuspecting tourists with little Spanish and even less sense … avoid border posts and officialdom … hide amongst crowds of ordinary people.

  He would disappear.

  It would take longer for him to get home but suddenly Fernando wanted to become invisible. He was glad that he hadn’t had time to let Frank know of his plans. He’d done his job and his sister would be safe. They would keep their end of the bargain even if he disappeared. Nevertheless he had to create some dead ends – just in case they came looking. He got up and resumed his search for the ticketing counter.