Seattle Quake 9.2 (14 page)

Suddenly, in the midst of the crowd, he saw a hand raise a pistol and shoot into the air. Women screamed, men instantly began backing up and then a man in the center of the crowd yelled, "One at a time! No one gets in; my son will get what you need. Anybody with change goes first. We need ones and coins. Get back!  Get back!"

"Who made you God?" someone else shouted.

"I'm not God, but I own this store and if you don't get back, I'll board it up and go home. You need me a hell of a lot more than I need your money. Now, who's got change?" Several in the crowd raised their hands.

Sam watched the people finally obey, forming a line into the buckled and torn parking lot. Some cars sat twisted and turned while others sitting on broken slabs were slanted slightly up or down. Thoughtfully, he gazed through the gap where a large window once stood. Sam's eyes lit up. Trying not to draw attention, he softly whistled, "Ally Cat," skirted the parking lot and headed down the alley. Just as he thought, the back wall of the store had collapsed. Just inside, an elderly woman sat in a rocking chair facing the alley. When he drew near, she raised her loaded rifle.

"I'll give you ten bucks for a bottle of pop and pack of cigarettes."

The woman thought for a moment and then glanced toward her son.  "Fifteen."

"Fifteen for one pack of cigarettes, a bottle of pop and a bottle of water."

"Done!"

The feeble old woman eased out of her chair, slowly got up and started in, but then she thought better of it and turned back to Sam. "You mind the store?"

"Sure." A side tooth missing, the old woman smiled and handed Sam the rifle. Several minutes passed, but finally she returned. Sam exchanged the gun and the money for the bag, nodded his appreciation, and then headed for a nearby park and a place to sit down. He located a bench tilted only slightly on one end and sat down. When he opened the bag, the old woman had included a fresh sandwich.

Sam smiled and pulled it out, "I tell you, the Lord works in mysterious ways." Hungrier than he realized, he unwrapped the egg salad sandwich, opened his mouth and took a hearty bite.

Tim's hands were still shaking when he sat down in the hallway next to Seely. "My exploring days are over. I might be wrong.  Maybe falling does run in my family."

Seely turned the radio down and watched the tightness in Tim's jaw.  "I've got a feeling I don't wanna hear this."

"You're right." Jenna eased down on her knees, and then leaned against the wall. Suddenly, she sat up straight again, "Listen."

"Chopper," Tim said. "I'll go have a look." With that, he was up on his feet again, hurrying down the hallway. He walked into the conference room just in time to watch a Navy Chopper slowly fly over. Unlike the sky crane, this helicopter seemed to be examining damage all over the city, crossing over, turning, and then …. crossing over again in a zigzag pattern. A few minutes later, the thud of its engines diminished. When Tim returned, Jenna handed him the jug of water. He took a long drink and wiped his mouth on the back of his scraped up arm.

Seely watched him with growing concern. His hands were still trembling and his normally pale skin looked even lighter. "Was it the same chopper?"

"Nope, that one was Navy, but it didn't turn this direction. It doesn't know we’re here."

"Maybe we could make a sign."

Tim screwed the lid back on the jug and set it down, "And hang it where? The truth is, I don't have the courage to go back out there. I'm the guy, I'm supposed to have all kinds of courage. But man, we're a long way up. A long, long way up."

"I wasn't thinking of hanging it out the window, I was thinking about going to the roof. The top floor is…or was all glass, remember. If the dome is gone, all we'll need to do is spread it out. We can stay one floor down, the 46th floor. And when a chopper comes, we'll go up."

Tim thought for a moment. "It might just work, if we can get on top. We got anything to make a sign on?"

Dropping her eyes, Seely hesitated before she answered, "I'll take care of it."

Jenna quickly puffed her cheeks. "You're going back into the storage room, aren't you?"

"There are a lot of things we still need in that room. If we plan carefully enough, we can get it all in one trip."

"But Seely, Bob is in there. And the big roll of paper is against the far wall.  We'd have to..."

"You let me worry about that. Now Timmy, tell me what you saw out there."

Tim took deep breath and slowly let it out. "It's a mess. That guy was right, the waterfront is gone. The Federal Building, the one that used to be as tall as this one, is about six stories of rubble. The one next to it fell sideways. The whole harbor collapsed along with most of the first and second block. There's a freighter with its nose stuck up Madison Street and a long section of the Alaskan Freeway is out in the Bay, with cars still on top."

Seely's mouth dropped. "You're kidding."

"I wish I was. And it gets worse. We lost a floor, maybe two. I can see steel girders and rubble sticking out of the side of the building. I can't tell which floor, but if I had to guess, I'd say it's the tenth. Even if we take the stairs down, I doubt we can get past that floor, and the tenth floor is still too high to jump or climb down a fire ladder -- if a fire truck could get to us, that is."

He took another deep breath and once more ran his shaking hands through his red hair, "The fire is about fifteen blocks north. At least we don't have to worry about that just yet. The twin towers of the Westin Hotel are still there, though they are badly damaged and one is leaning two or three feet to one side. The Monorail flew off its rails and is sticking out of the roof of Times Square. And the jail collapsed, the new one we just built. Hopefully, the prisoners who survived will have left town by the time we get out of here."

Jenna's short temper abruptly flared up again, "The new jail collapsed, how is that possible? Wasn't it strong enough?  Didn't they build it right?"

It was Seely who answered, "Sugar, new buildings are built to withstand an 8.0, not a 9.1. An earthquake measuring 9.1 is huge and no one knows how to build a building that strong."

"Why didn't everything fall then?"

"I don't know. Go on Timmy, what else?"

Tim glanced at his trembling hands, and then tucked them between his wobbling knees. He managed to steady both. "Well, the building directly across Third Avenue hit us. It's the darnedest thing I've ever seen. The top is imbedded in this building, about ten or twelve floors down.”

"So that's why we stopped swaying. Go on," Seely said.

"There's a tanker truck on fire on the freeway, about six blocks south of us and the freeway is a tangled, twisted, buckled mess. And, the top of the bus tunnel collapsed, street and all. There's a deep gash all the way down Third Avenue and I can see people still alive down there with water around them. They must have built the tunnel below the water level. It looks like some buildings fell into it and more are leaning that direction."

Seely put a hand up to stop him. "Wait, wait. I can't absorb this much at once. Is anyone helping the people in the bus tunnel?"

"A few, but real help won't arrive any time soon."

"Why not?"

"There are tons of glass and garbage in the streets. I could barely see the tops of cars."

Seely lowered her eyes and hung her head, "How could we let this happen? We knew about the fault under the city."

"Yes, but by then it was too late. What were we supposed to do, move Seattle to Boise?"

The wind was picking up, lifting the corners of loose papers and threatening to send them airborne. The haunting 'shhhh' of the illusive train yet seeped up from the ground below, and once more the building began a slow, sorrowful groan as more weight settled on the devastated foundation. All three held their breaths until the building quieted.

Finally, Tim broke the eerie silence, "Without a chopper, we're never gonna get out of here."

Seely nodded, "I think you're right. What else did you see?"

Tim suddenly chuckled, "You know the Smith Tower? Well it's still standing."

Seely's mouth dropped, "I don't believe it. It's the oldest high-rise in the city."

"Go figure. They must have known how to build back then. Not only that, it got taller. Looking south to the next block down Third Avenue, I can see ground."

"What do you mean, ground?"

"Raw dirt, maybe twenty or thirty feet high. And the rest of Third Avenue, the part on top of the cliff, shifted away from the Bay. The Grant Building is in the middle of the street. The train station is demolished and the train tracks moved over. The fire station is flat on the ground. Seely, I think the whole city shifted, only in different directions. We moved toward the water and the south side moved away from it. Are you getting what I mean?"

Seely looked deep into Tim's eyes for a long moment and then looked away.  "We're sitting on the fault?"

"Right smack dab on the line. I can't imagine why we're still alive. And if we do find a way to get down, we can't go south because of the cliff. We've got fire to the north, water to the west and the sunken bus tunnel out our front door to the east. The only way to get out of here is by chopper and..."

Seely closed her eyes and slowly shook her head, "And there are thousands of Saturday shoppers down there needing more help than we…if any of them are still alive."

Jenna glanced at Tim, and then looked back at Seely, "Aren't any of the other buildings still standing. I thought some were on rollers. Isn't the Parkland Hotel on rollers?"

"I don't know," Tim answered. "Next time, I'll look for it. I'm feeling a little braver now, and yes Jenna, some of the other buildings are still standing. The US Bank building is still there, although it's not so pretty with all its glass blown out. One Union Square is up and so is the Columbia Tower. There's a guy hanging off the top from cables, poor guy."

"Are there any people in the streets?" Jenna asked.

"Alive you mean?" Instantly Tim regretted his abruptness. He watched the sorrow in Jenna's eyes a moment, and then took hold of her hand. "Yes, I saw a few trying to dig out. But Jenna, even if we could get out of this building, it would take weeks to walk out of downtown."

"I don't care if it takes weeks. I've got to get home. My mom..."

Tim wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew Jenna closer. "We'll get out. Just you wait and see. We'll go up to the top floor, some nice man in a helicopter will let us in and we'll all go home, okay?"

"Okay."

*

With cold sodas, a full tank of gas and the ease of interstate driving, James took the onramp back to Interstate 90 westbound and continued up the winding, gradual incline to the crest of the Cascade Mountains. The higher they climbed, the cooler the air, a welcome relief from Yakima's 96 degrees. Again, he switched off the truck radio in favor of the Ham and before she could protest, flashed Heather a warning glance. Soon, he located the emergency frequency being used by Hams south of Seattle.

Heather folded her arms and frowned, "I'd rather listen to Max."

"I know.  But we need to know how bad it is in the South end. That's where we're going, you know."

Heather fumed a while longer, and then started talking again just to keep her brother from listening, "So, what are the bleeps?"

"The repeater does that. It beeps three times to alert other Hams of an emergency. That way, they stay off this frequency."

"Oh. Then why does..."

"Heather, I'm trying to listen!" James watched his sister use her thumb and forefinger to pretend to zip her lips, and then turned his attention back to the Ham radio.

"WG7LRS"

"LRS, this is net control, go ahead."

"WG7LRS, I've got a report of two pit bulls out of their cage in South Tacoma. Last seen headed west on 66th. The dogs have been trained to kill and the owner says they are extremely dangerous, over."

"WG, copy. Okay, we're stacked up here. Stand by…okay, K7EQ, go ahead."

"K7EQ, Tacoma Police are asking our assistance. We got anyone available? Over."

"EQ, stand by. All Operators able to assist Tacoma Police check in, over."

Heather let the cool wind blow her short, brown hair. Quickly over her latest irritation, she watched the passing scenery, listened to the call signs reporting in on the radio, and then turned to her brother. "What'll they do with all the dead bodies?"

James shifted positions in his seat and glanced at her, "I don't know. They'll put them in body bags, I guess, until they can bury them."

"I've only seen one dead body."

"Heather, we're going to help the living. Try to remember that."

She stared out the window a while longer, and then asked another question, "When we get there, will you know where to go?"

"Sure. Mom's worked for the Red Cross for years and took me there lots of times. The Red Cross warehouse is easy to find, once you know where to look, and if we can't get to that one, we'll go to another one. There are dozens in Seattle."

"Yes, but will they have enough food and water stored up for this?"

"I hope so. If not, they'll fly more in. What they need most right now are people like us willing to help distribute the food and keep records of who's alive."

Heather got quiet again, gazing at the mountains and wondering aloud, more to herself than to her brother. "We still haven't heard much about downtown.  How come they don't have any Hams downtown? James, do you think we should try to reach Max and tell him South Center is on fire? His wife is there, you know."

"I've been thinking about that. I don't want to be the one to tell him. He'll hear soon enough."

"You ever meet him?"

"Nope. Just talked to him over the radio. Don't even know what he looks like. Turn the radio on, will you?"

"Which one?" Heather asked.

"The truck radio."

"Cool."

*

Just as the FCC required, Collin regularly turned the volume down on the Amateur Radio to give the station's call sign and frequency. Next, he launched a new round of instructions for the sake of people who recently managed to find a radio. Yet, each station break reminded him of the amount of time passing without word of Beth. Faithfully, he reported the number of bodies laid out near the collapsed building across the street. When he was finished, he put the mike close enough to pick up the Ham transmissions and turned the volume up.

He tried the phones again. Still dead, not even a dial tone. He got up, walked to the window and looked out. Less than a dozen people struggled to toss the rubble away, brick by brick and board by board -- feverishly working without the benefit of equipment, engineers or even one police officer. Nor were there any Ham operators available to report the severity of the injuries. At length, he turned away.

"A7BB."

"BB, go ahead."

"Sarah, the Coast Guard got one of its fire ships running. Looks like they're going to try to put the fire out from the Bay. I don't know if they can, though.  Don't think they can shoot their spray that far. On the other hand, maybe they've got some sort of extensions for the fire hoses. Oh well, not my problem. The Aircraft Carrier is dropping anchor and I saw a couple of divers jump into the water. Wait…Sarah, something big just blew up way down south. Man, I can see the flames from here, over."