by RJ Corgan
None of this had to happen, Kea thought. Emilio didn’t have to die.
She rested her head in her hands. “I’m such an idiot.”
“That’s my line.” Carter’s voice buzzed in her ear.
“Shush, you.” Kea grinned upon hearing his voice. “I’m working.”
“I leave you alone for a few days and one of the biggest celebrities in the country winds up dead. Can’t you find a new hobby?”
“I have considered learning needlepoint, but it’s murder on the thumbs.” Kea risked a glance downward and her stomach twisted again at the sight of the swirling lava. Focus on something else, she reminded herself. “What are you doing back so early?”
“I finished the job in Bluefields yesterday. I wasn’t going to hang around, not with a bunch of drug lords after me. They’re all convinced I’m a narc. Why does no one believe I’m doing a master’s thesis on pirate treasure?”
“Probably because you’re too old to be a college student.”
“Education has no age limit.” Carter replied.
“There should be a limit on the number of master’s degrees a school can confer on one person.” Kea pulled off her glove with her teeth and launched an app on her smartwatch. She kept talking as she typed a message on the miniature keyboard. “How many degrees do you have now?”
“Fourteen. At least my curiosity shows no signs of stopping. Just because you’ve limited yourself to one subject …”
“I didn’t limit myself,” Kea jabbed at the keyboard in frustration. “I paid off my degree, unlike you,” she said, slipping into their age-old argument. “Remaining in school till your dotage to avoid debt should be illegal.”
“I’m not the one leaping into an active volcano. Who’s the dumb one now?” Carter sounded tired. “You’ll only get in the way down there. Leave the rescue to the experts. More importantly, there is the certain matter of the money you owe me for doing that Bluefields job.”
“I’ll call you back in a bit,” Kea said, anxious to shut him up. “I’m about to go into a dead zone. Ask Bree to connect your chat app to our Wi-Fi.” She slowed the pod’s descent, let Mack know that she was waiting out an updraft, sent a tersely worded request to Amirah, and then cut the feed.
A ping from her watch a few minutes later let her know that Carter had connected.
“What’s up? What’s wrong with the radio?” Carter’s words appeared on the screen of her watch.
Kea pressed the talk-to-text button. “Government is listening on the radio comms. Well, the Outpost records the transmissions, so it is possible the government could as well. This is slightly more secure, although not much.” She restarted the pod’s descent. “Can you hang around town until I climb out of here?”
“I have a flight back to San Diego tomorrow morning.” Carter’s reply scrolled across the screen. “I only came by to drop off your package and get paid.”
“I’m remembering the time I saved your life.”
“Stop bringing up the thing with the mammoths. God, woman, move on with your life.”
“A mammoth never forgets.” She switched off the app as the pod approached the landing site. The ledge, shaped like a crescent moon, was all that remained of the 1968 lava lake that had filled the crater. The net-enclosed bubble tents of the basecamp huddled near the crater wall, as if trying to get as far away from the ledge as possible. The landing station, a cluster of poles and trestles, stood at the crater’s edge. The pod landed on the coarse carpet of ash and scoria with a soft crunch.
The slim form of Carlos, biologist and team lead, helped steady the pod and opened the door. “Fun ride?”
“You could sell tickets,” Kea said gamely, “if it wasn’t so deadly.”
Where Mack was all boulder shoulders, bristling beard, and prolific arm hair, Carlos was bald, rail thin, and wore a perpetual five o’clock shadow. Initially, he’d been studying the solitary bees living in the volcanic ash, but Kea had convinced him to assist with her expedition. A decision that he was no doubt beginning to regret.
Her hands still shaking from adrenaline, she helped him unload the supply bags. Once clear, she hailed Mack on the radio and the pod started its slow ascent back to the crater rim.
Kea watched it depart, quashing her desire to escape inside the pod. Focus, she reminded herself, get a move on. She turned to Carlos. “Any word from Delta team?”
Carlos shook his head. “If they have power, they’re not using it.” He helped her into her pack, then started plodding back to basecamp.
Kea followed in his footsteps, marveling at the thick carpet of black glass spread across Beta level. Spun from the churning froth of splashing lava, the black filaments wafted up from the lava lake below to settle on the platform like a layer of autumn leaves. The angled light of the setting sun caused the black glass to shimmer, giving it the appearance of soft brown moss.
You could nap on it, Kea thought, if you enjoyed sleeping on a blanket of steel wool.
When they reached the metal netting that encircled basecamp, she helped Carlos slip the bags through the wires, then stepped carefully inside. Like a spider’s web, the cables were bolted into the ground and stretched up to the crater walls. Designed to contract under impact and direct falling rocks away from the tents beneath, it would do nothing against a major eruption. It offered slightly more protection than the flimsy skin of the tents, but not much.
“Any ETA on re-securing the lines to Delta?” Kea asked, as Carlos unzipped the fly of the small tunnel that served as an airlock to the network of tents.
“I’ve got two men on it now.” Carlos ushered her through the circular entrance then began removing his boots. “We don’t know how many of the bolts remain intact. If we have to connect new ones, well, I’m afraid I can’t give you an answer anytime soon.”
Kea removed her own boots before following him into the antechamber. Other tunnels led out to the auxiliary tents like spokes on a wheel. The adjoining tents were used to store food, water, climbing equipment, and the generator that kept the tent frames inflated and provided fresh air. Inside the main dome, people in stockinged feet sat on the floor in small clusters. Empty spools of cable had been turned on their sides to form makeshift tables. Their surfaces were littered with laptops and discarded energy bar wrappers.
The room was divided into two sections: one side was meticulously clean, lined with batteries recharging in perfect rows, and stacks of thermal panels waiting to be cleaned. The remaining space held the discarded wreckage of exhausted scientists: crumbled sleeping bags, thermal suits, and laptops. Technicians were busy checking the equipment and climbing gear, while other scientists had their heads bent over their laptops, analyzing data.
The rescue team, composed of climbers and paramedics, sat in a small circle apart from the rest. Their attention was focused on their phones, playing games, or checking the news, awaiting the call to begin the rescue.
After removing her gear, she helped Carlos unpack the equipment and greeted the paramedics. The team consisted of men under the age of twenty-five. The excitement of being inside a volcano was evident on their faces. One, a muscular young man named Simon, with a bright grin and pinchable cheeks, went out of his way to shake her hand. Unusually tall for the locals with a broad chest and a slender waist, she caught herself blushing. She made excuses to plug her equipment into the generator to charge.
At her request, Carlos handed her a tablet containing the most recent seismic readings. She immersed herself in the squiggles, examining the patterns for any sign of what might have caused the rockfall. After checking and cross checking, she sent another volley of emails to Sharvil before finally noticing that Carlos was trying to get her attention. He waved her over to one of the spool tables to examine a worn paper map.
Alphonso, the basecamp manager, a diminutive man with knobby fingers and stooped shoulders, joined them. Despite being the oldest member of the team, he had more energy than all of them combined. “Shouldn’t we wait for
Mack?”
“He should have been here by now.” Carlos’ fingers tapped nervously on the map.
“It is probably taking more time to load the supplies in the pod than we expected,” Kea shrugged. “We can’t wait. Every second we waste could be critical.”
Carlos pointed to the far edge of Delta level. “We finished installing the last of the stations on the western portion.” Similar in geometry to Beta, Delta’s arc-shaped ledge was a quarter of the size. “The team was to complete the installation and rejoin us by six o’clock.”
Kea nodded. Those had been her orders, after all. Orders Emilio had ignored, along with everyone else it seemed.
“Are any of the sensors still online?” she asked, referring to the new devices capable of monitoring the temperature, humidity, and atmospheric pressure throughout the crater, as well as the levels of carbon dioxide and hydrogen sulfide. A previous expedition had installed over eighty of the devices on Gamma level a decade earlier, making Masaya the first Wi-Fi equipped volcano in the world. Since several of the devices had been lost to recent eruptive activity, one of the primary goals of this expedition was to install new devices capable of tracking the internal dynamics of the magma in the recently exposed chamber.
Alphonso shook his head. “We’re not getting any signals at all from Delta or Gamma. There was one odd thing, however.” He slid his tablet across for her to look at. “The sensors on Delta activated automatically as soon as they were installed.”
“And?” Kea asked.
Alphonso tapped the tablet. “All sensors on Delta level switched off a few moments before the rockfall.”
Kea frowned at the screen. “Are you certain?”
Alphonso nodded.
“But I was talking to Daniela through my headset when it happened.”
“She was probably riding the cell reception, like Emilio’s device,” Carlos offered. “The rockfall took out the cell booster, but as you can see from the logs, the Wi-Fi went down before.”
“The signal was terrible,” Kea agreed. “Still, that means whatever took out the Wi-Fi and sensors was, what? A different rockfall? Is it possible one fall could have initiated another one?”
Carlos caught Kea’s eye. “You saw the same seismic data I did. There is some activity, but I wouldn’t have thought it was enough to affect the stability of the entire Delta station.”
Kea swore quietly under her breath. “This whole project was too risky from the start.” Not helpful. Step back. Reason. She took a long breath and started again. “This could take days. How are we for supplies? Do we have enough for us, the rescue team, as well as those trapped down there?”
Carlos nodded. “Bree is coordinating another supply run from Managua, just in case. I don’t want to spend my holidays down there.”
“Neither do I, but let’s assume anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.” She paused. “More than it already has.”
As if on cue, her earpiece pinged. It was Sharvil. “Deshi’s insisting his team lead the extraction. Says he’s been granted authority from president you-know-who.”
“Has he now?” Kea sighed. “I’m a geologist, not a politician. Tell Deshi I’ll be damned if I let someone take over my expedition.”
“I’ll be sure to pass on the message,” a familiar voice replied from the tent’s entrance.
“Son of a fuck.” Kea had sworn today couldn’t get any worse, and here the company sends down her ex.
Ling Zhao strode into the tent. She had removed her boots but stood nearly a head taller than Kea. Her black hair was tucked under her helmet, and her cheeks were streaked with grit, as if primed for a fight.
Kea stared up at the woman, defiant. “Where’s Mack?”
Ling glanced at her briefly before turning her attention to Carlos. “I’m here to lead the retrieval.”
Kea bit back another curse. “Where. Is. Mack?”
“His contract has been cancelled.”
“You don’t have the authority,” Kea hissed through clenched teeth.
“The order came from above. Check with my husband.” Ling’s expression widened into a genuine smile. “Control of this operation has been transferred to Freedom Unlimited.”
“It’s true,” Sharvil spoke softly in Kea’s ear. “Amirah just confirmed it.”
Kea flinched. She had forgotten her comms were still live. She turned the earpiece off with a flick of her hand and glared at Ling.
Alphonso stepped between them before the situation could escalate. “Can we please focus on the rescue?” He introduced himself to Ling, then looked her up and down, evaluating her fitness. “I do hope you’re qualified as a rescue climber, or we’ll have to get Mack back, whether he’s on salary or not.”
“Of course.” Ling sauntered over to one of the small tables and gracefully sat on the spool as if it were a throne. “My company only sends the very best.”
Eager to get back to the rescue plan, Alphonso asked, “They could be pinned down there. Do we have any equipment if we need to lift a boulder off their legs?”
“The medical team has a couple jacks,” Carlos shrugged, his fingers tapping out a frantic rhythm of pent-up energy. “but honestly, it will depend on the size of the rocks.”
Survivor’s guilt, perhaps?
She noticed Ling’s eyes on Carlos, observing him as if he were a hamster in a cage.
“What about the hydraulic splitter?” Alphonso offered. Seeing Ling’s questioning look, he continued. “It’s a jack they used to clear out some of the smaller rocks on Delta to create a shelter last week.”
“For all we know it’s in the lava lake with Emilio,” Kea pointed out. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to be under a rock when that thing operates. It’s not exactly gentle.”
“Sharvil is researching what equipment Managua may be able to provide,” Carlos added quickly, “and the medical team is prepared to handle any … consequences of the extractions.”
Kea had the nasty feeling he meant to say, ‘amputations’ rather than ‘consequences,’ and shuddered. As the group reviewed the available supplies and logistics, she couldn’t help but feel the knot in her stomach tighten.
Finally, Alphonso gathered the paramedics and the scientists and ran them through a safety briefing, buying more time for the climbing team to re-secure the lines to the Gamma waypoint.
Kea, who had heard the brief before, only half-listened, her attention focused instead on Ling. It was not simply her height that made Ling stand out from the crowd of scientists. Every movement was graceful and effortless, her posture perfect.
Indeed, Ling’s poise was one of the things that had attracted Kea to her two years ago at the Global Solutions’ holiday party.
At the time, Kea had not known the woman was married to Deshi. Ling had never offered her last name and had strung Kea along for months before breaking off the affair. Only then did she reveal that she was married to Deshi and that Kea was just one woman of many Ling had dallied with.
Kea had been the other woman and never even known it.
It was only starting to sink in that Mack wouldn’t be here to help soften the blow. Since meeting him a few months ago, Mack had become more than a colleague. Drinking buddy, play buddy, and co-Walking Dead binger. Of all those things, given her frequent past encounters with raving murderous lunatics, Kea also thought of him as her own personal security.
After all the death she had dealt with, and despite every precaution she’d taken since, here she was again. Unprotected, unarmed, and trapped hundreds of feet inside a boiling volcano. To top it off, her job had been taken over by a woman who betrayed and humiliated her and, for all she knew, her friends had fallen into a lake of lava or lay under a pile of rocks unable to breathe or …
A ping from Carlos’s watch interrupted her panicked thoughts.
“That was Team One on Gamma,” Carlos announced. “They’re ready for us.” He paused, as if noticing the fury in Kea’s eyes. “If that’s all right with everyone?
”
“Fine by me,” Ling beamed. “Dr. Wright?”
I need to be someone else.
Kea repeated the mantra, trying to find calm, trying to find someone inside her who could handle this, who could not be petty, and who could get her friends back safely.
Who do you want to be in this moment? Her therapist’s voice echoed in her head.
Sarah Fucking Connor.
Kea pulled her lips into a tight smile. “Of course, welcome to the team.”
Chapter 5
SITTING UNDER the fern had its advantages. While the Outpost’s staff continued their flustered support of the rescue efforts, Carter sat forgotten, able to surf the web and research more about Kea’s team.
More importantly, Shona had shown him the snack cupboard.
Flush with treats and a third juice box, Carter browsed the Outpost’s webpage on his phone. The current descent was only the most recent exploration of Masaya. The site contained information on previous expeditions as well as details of a range of projects undertaken on the flanks of the volcano and in the surrounding villages. Most of the recent research appeared to be focused on the damage caused by the acidic gases on vegetation, buildings, and the health of the local populace.
As Carter scanned the photographs of the current descent team, he did not recognize any familiar names or faces, aside from Kea and the deceased. Unlike the Outpost staff that was composed of a range of nationalities, the faculty and graduate students on the descent team consisted primarily of Nicaraguans, aside from two Canadians listed as ‘Visiting Scientists.’
Notably, while each of the members of the descent team on the website had a photograph and a short biography, none of the Outpost support team was named at all. Just like a film crew, he decided, no one wants to know the name of the key grip.