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Authors: Everett Peacock

Death by Facebook (27 page)

BOOK: Death by Facebook
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Jack,
Larry on the ground. Over.”

Jack
took a few moments to answer. Alice still had her hands running
through his hair, hidden as they both were in the locked ladies
restroom.


Go
ahead Larry, you're safe and sound?” He kissed Alice again
before remembering, “Over, big guy!”

Larry
looked at the walkie talkie like he had heard something strange going
on. If only it was a video talkie. “Look, Jack, I don't know
what you put in those tennis balls, but whatever it was, it caused my
wine cellar to implode. Over.”


Heard
about that. So sorry. Look, Larry, I've got something going on over
here. Can I call you back?” He laughed out loud. “Over.
Over.”

Larry
suspected a serious distraction in Jack's world. He could call back,
but remembered he wanted to ask about the latest news.


What's
the latest on the magma Jack?”

Jack
took a full minute to answer, having shed his shirt and shoes now.
Alice was sitting up on the bathroom counter beckoning him with her
finger.


Uh,
Larry. Let me see,” Jack tried to make this quick. “Belt
Highway is closed between Hilo and Pahoa and again south of Kona. We
think the magma is flowing downhill, soon if not already.” He
smiled broadly at Alice. “Things are heating up buddy. Be
careful out there. Over. And out.”

Larry
looked at the radio and turned it off. He figured it might be a good
idea to fuel the paraglider up right now in case the roads remained
closed and the volcano really started acting up. He attended to his
flying machine, checking the oil.

Jack
moved in close to Alice, feeling her warm skin against his. They
kissed deeply even as they got even closer. A small rumble moved
through the ground.

Alice
laughed right into Jack's kiss. “You make the earth move
baby!”

~~~

Star
could still see the steaming cinder cone in her rear view mirror as
she approached the ocean. All of the vacation rentals appeared
empty, strangely vacant of Mustang convertible rental cars, and
Jeeps.

As
she turned right onto Aloha Lane the first thing she noticed was the
layer of sand, everywhere. The road was covered with it, hiding the
asphalt so well that she had to use memory to stay on the road.
Making her way slowly toward her cabin she noticed their little three
thousand gallon community water tank over on its side, completely off
the concrete foundation they had installed it on.

Pulling
further into their little compound was a shock, a fist in the face
blow to her fragile emotions. The fishing shacks were flattened,
piled up in haphazard collections of tree branches, plywood and PVC
pipes. Her own little cabin was sitting on the ground, completely
swept off its post and pier foundation. The roof looked like it
didn't quite fit on the walls correctly. She pulled up, turned off
her car and took a moment before she got out.


Tsunami,”
she whispered, trying to explain the chaotic scene to herself. She
looked quickly out to sea, and there the Champagne pool was full of
debris, several large pieces of some kind of building material wedged
into the coral, others simply floating.


What
happened?” Janet finally spoke, now awake.

Star
turned to look at her. “Stay here a moment, until I can see if
it's safe to go inside.” When Janet didn't respond, she spoke
a little louder. “OK?”


Sure,
Star. Sure.”

Star
had seen large swells from distant hurricanes pour over the lava
pools before and pile up a little sand here and there, but nothing
like this. As she stepped inside her cabin the first thing she
noticed was the light. It was different.

Twenty
some odd years in the same small space and she could tell in an
instant that the shadows were in the wrong place. Most of her
furniture was still in the right place, give or take a foot or so. A
few pictures were missing off the wall.


Oh,
Nemo,” she moaned softly. Picking up the broken pieces of her
fish bowl, once the home of a small yellow Tang from the pools, she
became afraid she would soon find a dead fish. Piece after piece of
rounded glass was gathered into her hands, but thankfully no fish.

As
she stood again she placed the pieces in her small sink below a
driftwood framed window. Looking out she saw Janet peering out the
rear windows of the Tercel, patiently waiting on her. That was
strange though, she thought, she had always looked out this window at
the mountains, not her parking area.

Spinning
around quickly she looked out her front door. There, instead of the
lava pools, she saw the ocean, and on the horizon, several fishing
boats at anchor. The cabin had been spun around quite a bit.

Star
felt like crying. But as she walked back to her front door, and sat
down with her legs now touching the fresh layer of sand below, she
took a slow, deep breath. Remembering a dream of her mother she
recently had, she smiled. The incoming ocean had come into her home
and knocked her fishbowl onto the floor, shattering it.

Nemo,
her little fish, was free.

~~~

The
Hawaii Air National Guard 204
th
Airlift Squadron C-17 taxied out toward the Reef Runway, also known
as 8R on trade wind days, or 26L on a Kona wind.


Tower,
we're ready when you are,” the first officer announced as they
approached 8R. Surfers paddled after head high rollers in the
restricted area just off to the right. They would certainly get a
whiff of Jet-A fumes when they turned the massive aircraft toward
Diamond Head and hit the throttles.


Roger
Pele two niner. Cleared for takeoff runway eight right.” The
Honolulu tower air traffic controller triple checked his radar data
with that of the Center, confirming the airspace for the large jet
was clear of traffic. It was clear for miles.

Adam
and Agatha were both grateful to be included with the two dozen news
reporters and government officials being flown over the volcano for
an aerial inspection before a relief mission landing in Hilo.

Agatha
looked around, a little claustrophobic with the lack of windows and
the three large bulldozers crowding the center of the cargo bay.

She
leaned over to whisper to Adam. “How are we going to see
anything, I can't see any windows?”

Adam
smiled. They weren't going to get any viewing done. “We're
just bumming a ride to a closed airport dear.” He nodded
toward the Governor and some of his party as well as the official
photographers accompanying his entourage. “Those guys will get
a peek from the cockpit.”

Agatha
sat back in her seat, a little disappointed. She was glad Adam had
somehow secured them a ride, and wouldn't dare complain about
anything, but she had assumed all aircraft had windows in the back.

She
could only feel what was going on, and that was unnerving. The
plane, still taxiing, made a slow sweeping turn of about ninety
degrees and paused for a moment, waiting on instructions, she
figured. They had been taxiing for almost ten minutes at this point.
They had to be on the runway by now she hoped.


Ready?”
Adam leaned over and kissed her lightly on the cheek.


Sure,
but when...”

The
consistent noise of the engines at idle began to increase slowly as
the co-pilot pushed the four throttles slowly forward, watching his
gauges for any indication of failure. The captain was glancing out
the window as well, scanning the runway, the nearby ocean and the sky
for anything unusual.

Adam
reached over and grasped Agatha's hand firmly as the engines rapidly
spun up to maximum power. He could visualize exactly what was going
on in the flight deck, having flown many a mission in this same
aircraft.

Agatha
was shocked how noisy it was. Having been used to commercial planes
that took some effort to insulate for noise, this C-17 wasted little
precious weight on such issues. The engines were roaring with some
kind of anger, in a battle with the great dragon Gravity. The
aircraft shook and rattled as it accelerated down the two mile long
battleground.

She
soon could feel the rear tail dipping as she quickly looked toward
the flight deck. Seeing it rise slightly and then her own seat
lifting up off the ground was a sensation she knew, she prayed, she
never would get used to. It was unnatural, this and all massive
flying machines.

As
the great engines continued breathing fire, lifting the beast higher
up into the safety of the sky, she marveled at its persistence, its
ability to fight with so much energy for so long.

trade
winds being what they are, inconsistent at times, a sudden drop in
the aircraft as it lost a little support from headwinds stiffened her
grasp on Adam. Was the dragon going to pull them down again?


No
worries, just a bump on the road.” He put his arm around her
and squeezed. “Be there in about an hour.”


Thank
you,” she whispered unsure if he had even heard her. Agatha
suddenly realized this was a type of military aircraft that her son
James might have ridden on. She looked around in wonder at the
complexity of the textures, at the wonder of engineering capable of
moving this kind of mass through the air.

All
around her were little traces of soldiers that had traveled in this
great beast. A misplaced hat, a stray candy wrapper, a boarding
pass. Closing her eyes she tried again to find her James Madison,
focusing on the same signals she had always found before.

Ignoring
the roar just outside the metal walls her hope, her very heart sought
out that thing she would never be able to describe to anyone else. A
mother's intuition was what her friends might call it, and that was a
fine description for dinner parties and afternoon teas.

Agatha
knew it was more than that. It was a bond that was now broken, a
bond that she was trying to reconnect. It was a bond that had often
faded in and out of her life, but one that she always sought to
preserve. James had often joked that she could find him faster than
any Ranger battalion, but might have trouble extracting him from a
firefight.

She
was still hearing nothing, feeling nothing, sensing no feedback from
wherever it was she sent her mind in search. That had never happened
before.

Adam
figured it was just too noisy to attempt a conversation with Agatha
now about her son James. As she was boarding the C-17 at the Hickam
Air Force ramp an intel officer had approached him with a thin manila
envelope.


Sir,”
the young warrant officer announced, not quite at attention for a
civilian. “I have the documents you requested from General
Wong's office.” He extended his hand and studied this guy who
had somehow got himself and his girlfriend a ride on a high level
flight. He studied the eyes of this civilian who had solicited some
personal information, for his girlfriend no less, which had sent a
flurry of activity through the General's office unlike anything he
had seen in over a month.

BOOK: Death by Facebook
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