Seattle Quake 9.2 (17 page)

"Collin!"

"Max, I got my rights. At a time like this, a man shouldn't have to do without the little things. I mean, how cruel is that anyway?"

"You're cracking up man."

"No I'm not. I'm just saying it’s the little things. That's all. Hey, I just thought of something. You think the Prophet lived through this?" Suddenly, he drew in a sharp breath.

The earth was moving again.

This time James and Heather were close enough to Seattle to feel the strong aftershock, and James swerved just in time to keep from rear-ending a car. Yet for them, not far from the outskirts of Preston, the initial jolt of the 5.7 aftershock was more of an inconvenience. Just as other drivers did, he pulled to the side of the road and waited.

In the Winningham Blue Building, Jenna screamed again and flew into Seely's arms. The earth rumbled and the enormous building once more screeched in agony, bouncing, twisting, turning and wreathing.

Alone in the dark stairwell one floor up, Tim spent ten minutes climbing over large chunks of cement on the steps. The higher he went the more the devastation and he had only just made it to the door when it started. He quickly looked around for something secure to grab, but there was nothing, except the untrustworthy handrail and a doorknob. He grabbed the knob with one hand, sat down on a chunk of concrete and scanned the frightening, shaking structure with the beam of his flashlight. Opposing walls appeared to be moving in different directions, shifting from side to side, while at the same time bouncing up and down. More concrete crumbled and fell, revealing larger areas of rebar. The air smelled of dust and the stairwell echoed deep, unnatural, guttural noises.  Before it ended, the motion made him nauseous. He let go of the doorknob, laid the flashlight in his lap and held tight to his wrenching stomach.

At KMPR, Max and Collin were back in the doorway. Neither man dared to look through the window. Instead, they tried to keep their heads bowed and their bodies steady. Just as it had before, the two story house shifted and hopped. Glass tinkled, books slid and the Amateur Radio moved closer to the edge of Collin's console.

Ninety-seven blocks north, Seely's daughter, Michelle, quickly pulled both children out of the back seat into the front. Wave after wave rolled the pavement under their parked car. Neighbors poured out of badly damaged houses, and before it stopped, Michelle's eyes filled with tears again, "Oh Momma, why did you go to work today? Please live, Momma…please."

Seely's heart had begun to hurt again. The wrenching pain contorted her face and she involuntarily clenched both fists.

Jenna struggled to open the purse and grab hold of the small bottle of pills.  Urgently, she unscrewed the cap, reached in with two fingers, pulled out a tablet, and put into Seely's open mouth. When the aftershock stopped, Jenna found herself staring at Seely and still holding the open bottle.

Sam Taylor was mad. The shock wave caught him by surprise and knocked him to the broken pavement. When the heaves diminished, he lifted his eyes to heaven and threw up his hands, "Enough, already!  How much can these people take?" Instantly he was sorry for his outburst. He pulled his earphones off, bowed his head and apologized.

Bone weary, Sam slowly got back up. Each block was beginning to look exactly like the last. His feet hurt, the empty canteen string cut into his neck, and now his butt hurt. Tenderly, he placed both hands on his rear end. Suddenly self-conscious, he quickly looked around. No one seemed to care. He walked another half a block, and then stopped. This time he made sure no one was watching before he hoisted himself onto the hood of an older model car. To his relief, no car alarm sounded.

In two hours, he'd covered only twenty blocks -- twenty blocks of downed power lines, hurting people, backed up traffic, broken water mains, ruined homes, and unfriendly dogs. His white golf shoes were still new enough to cause blisters, so he took them off, examined the sore spots and wiggled his toes. Thirsty, he set his shoes on the hood of the car and pulled the water bottle out of his pants pocket. He removed the lid and slowly drank, careful to conserve as much as possible.

Just then, his eyes focused on the green grass just beyond the bent chain link fence. It contained the usual broken and tilted slabs of earth with one exception. Beneath the dirt, and tilted on its side, was a silver object about six feet long and two feet wide -- with handles. Sam's eyes grew huge. He quickly slipped his shoes back on, jumped down off the car and shoved his bottle of water into his pocket. With renewed energy and great haste, he crossed the street, hurried down the sidewalk, and put as much distance as he could between himself and the Evergreen Cemetery.

*

"W7HEU."

"HEU, go ahead," Sarah said.

"The fissure closed, over."

"You get everybody out?"

"W7HEU, I think so, thanks to that chopper. Too late now if we didn't, over."

From his perch mid-way up the Magnolia Cliff, A7BB lightly bounced his body, testing the strength of the tree still holding him flush to the cliff.  Next, he tried to gauge how far he'd slid in the last aftershock -- two more feet, at least. Yet the massive root system and several top branches were covered with enough dirt to keep him from falling. Relieved, he tried to find the cat. It was nowhere in sight. He looked up just in time to see a good sized wave rock the Aircraft Carrier and race toward the shore. Seconds later it sent spraying water over recently accumulated wreckage. In Smith's Cove to his extreme left, a docked cargo ship filled with new cars from Japan was sideways, listing and rocking back and forth.

"Cat? Where are you cat?" With his free hand, he carefully moved a branch and looked straight down. To his relief, the cat was still on the board and closer to shore. But so were the bodies. Now, the body of a man lay in the water directly beneath him and the body of a woman was moving his way.

A7BB quickly turned his attention to other things. Lately, the loud clapping noise of multiple choppers filled the air, but just now, there were only two -- one landing on the deck of the Aircraft Carrier and one waiting. So he concentrated on scanning the sky for the mysterious air crane. The closed fissure wasn't that far away and he hoped it would come for him next. When he spotted it, the basket was still attached to the undercarriage.

With growing anticipation, he lifted his free hand and waved, but the chopper quickly flew over him, crossed the Bay and turned to hover high above the fire in West Seattle. When it started back, A7BB's eyes once more lit up.  Again, he was disappointed. The air crane quickly disappeared behind the smoke of the downtown fire.

Suddenly, he noticed something wet dripping down the back of his neck. Cautiously, he twisted his body and turned his head. There, just barely visible out of the corner of his eye and sticking less than an inch out of the ground, was a small, broken sprinkler pipe. A7BB licked his lips. He turned back around and searched for some way to catch the water. Finally, he remembered the baseball cap still snugly on his head. Quickly, he flipped the cap off, held it behind his neck and waited for the cool, luxurious drops of fresh water to collect.

Still in the darkened stairwell, Tim stood up and tried the door to the forty-fourth floor. It was just as he expected -- locked tight.  When he heard the unmistakable sound of an approaching chopper, he grabbed the knob, put his shoulder to the door and shoved hard. The door remained true to its lock, but its hinges were broken and it soon fell into a hallway identical to the one on the floor below.

He walked across the door, hurried down the debris filled hall, turned left, and made his way past the elevators. Instead of a conference room, this floor held two small offices, each void of furnishings. Tim rushed into the nearest one, and then stopped. The sound of the chopper was deafening, yet he couldn't see it.  He eased forward, taking one cautious step at a time until he spotted the tips of the blades whirling below.

To no avail, he shouted into the noise, "Up here!"

For several minutes, the chopper kept its position opposite the forty-third floor where Jenna stood alone watching. Finally, it lifted until it hovered opposite Tim. It stayed for a time with its cameras clicking off a series of pictures, and then it turned sideways displaying the ID panel with tiny white lights. In bold black letters it read, "Go back down."

Reluctantly, Tim nodded. Inside the clear glass aft bubble, he spotted a man pointing down, so he nodded again, and only then did he notice a huge steel hook hanging from the undercarriage with a cable hanging down. He kept his eyes on the cable and waited while the chopper slowly lifted. At last, his expression turned to one of sheer joy. The cable was split into three lines, and inch by inch, a brown Balloon basket with a wide rubber rim appeared above the window's bottom ledge.

Tim quickly turned on his heels and went back into the dark, forbidding interior of the building.

*

With her shoes still off and a thick black cable extending through a hole in the floor behind her, Jackie softly spoke into her headset. "I was afraid they'd try to go up. Maybe we could drop a phone down the stairwell from the roof."

In the aft bubble, Michael's five o'clock shadow was beginning to show. "We just told him to go down. Let's go get that window washer off the Columbia Tower...if he's still alive."

Carl flew two blocks southwest, and then turned so the setting sun would not shine in Michael's eyes. From the belly of the air crane, the basket swung back and forth and in the street below, the tower's dark shattered glass glistened like black diamonds amid smashed furniture, broken cement and crushed cars. The man hanging from the ninetieth floor didn't seem to notice them. Still strapped in his safety harness, his legs were limp, his head was bowed and right next to him, the scaffolding gently swayed in the breeze.

Jackie redirected camera three to get a better look, "Is he still alive?"

"I can't tell," Carl answered. "Wait, I think he moved his fingers."

She enlarged the picture and watched his hands until finally, his middle fingers moved again. "Poor guy, the straps have probably cut off his circulation.  Let's bring the basket up under him."

Cautiously, Carl moved the chopper closer while Michael maneuvered levers in an attempt to minimize the basket's swing. Still, for the better part of five minutes, the balloon basket swayed back and forth, once striking its rubber rim against the building and bouncing away. At last, it dangled directly below the man, swaying only slightly in the wind.

Carefully, Michael eased the basket up. Abruptly, the earth once more rumbled. Both the scaffolding and the man began to jiggle and soon, each started an exaggerated sway. In horror, Michael watched the man use his last ounce of strength to grab hold of the basket cable. At the same time, the already frayed scaffolding safety lines scraped across the edge of the Columbia Tower roof.  Suddenly, the first one snapped throwing the metal plank into a diamond shaped spin. Closer and closer it came to the window washer, its sharp upper corner aimed at his head. A fifth of a second later, the remaining line wore through and the scaffolding hurled downward. It shot through the bottom of the basket and for a moment, the falling cables wrapped around the basket's rim. When they uncurled, the scaffolding fell ninety floors to the street below.

Jackie held her breath. Now pointed straight down, camera two showed a terrified, trembling man at the end of a jagged rope. His grip on the basket cable was the only thing keeping him from falling. "Hurry you guys!"

Carl instantly moved the chopper up until the basket cleared the top of the building, and then maneuvered the swinging passenger toward the center of the roof. Inside the chopper, the cable spun over a pulley in the ceiling, turned toward the tail section, crossed a second pulley, and then shot downward and wrapped around a spinning four-foot spool. Finally, the cable stopped moving and Michael released his seat belt. He opened the aft door and hopped down on the roof. To his amazement, the earth was still moving.

Jackie grabbed a set of goggles, put them on, turned, and opened the chopper body door. Wind from the whirling blades whipped her hair while the steps unfolded from below. She too threw off her seat belt and hurried down. Working as fast as possible, she helped Michael unhook the safety rope, pry the man's hands off the cable and lift him into the chopper. While Jackie got back in her seat, retracted the steps and closed the door, Michael strapped the window washer into a passenger seat. Already, Carl was lifting away, dragging the damaged basket across the roof of the swaying building.

For several long moments, fractured nerves kept each of them silent. At last, Michael spoke, "Did you feel it? I bet that building was leaning twenty feet each way."

"Yes, I felt it." Jackie's hands trembled, but she managed to remove her goggles and put her headset back on.

Well away from the building and headed over the bay, Carl glanced through the aft bubble at their passenger. "Is he okay?"

"I don't know," Jackie answered.

"He's probably in shock. Saw a lot of guys in Nam like that. Michael, see if you can loosen his safety jacket and don't be surprised if he takes a swing at you. He's probably pretty fond of that jacket by now."

*

Just before Tim Garton stepped back into the cold clammy stairwell, he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, "Anybody here?" He waited, but no one answered. In the law offices of Hadley and White on the forty-fourth floor, no one ever worked on Saturday.

He made his way down the cement littered stairs, crossed the landing, and then darted into the hallway where Seely and Jenna were waiting, "That chopper's got a basket."

"We know, Jenna saw it." Seely turned the radio off and offered Tim the jug of water.

Sitting with her arms tightly folded, Jenna narrowed her eyes, "You're not getting me in a basket. No way!  Besides, how come they're so interested in us? Don't they have anybody else to save?"

Seely reached for Tim's hand and let him help her up. "Jenna, you're acting like a child. Come on, they'll come back and we won't be there."

"I am a child, I'm only seventeen."

“I thought you were twenty,” said Tim.

“I lied!”

"Okay then, you’re seventeen going on twelve," Tim snapped. He took Seely's hand and led the way down the hall. But when he sensed her slowing, he stopped and turned around. "You alright?"

"I'll manage. It's just that I don't hear a chopper, at least not one that's very close and I'm terrified of leaving this hallway."

Tim walked on, pausing every once in a while to scoot rubbish aside with his feet. "We don't have much choice if we want to get out of here.  Are you getting tired?"

"Well, it takes a lot of strength to live through an earthquake and a heart attack all in one day. Let's just get this over with."

A couple of feet past the elevators, Tim stopped. "Stay here, I'll go see if I can spot the chopper. When she nodded, he went on, walked as far as he dared into the damaged conference room, and then slowly scanned the sky with his eyes. In the distance, he could see two black choppers hovering off the bow of the Aircraft Carrier. But no blue air crane. Finally he heard its distinctive thud and glanced back just as Seely walked up with her arm around Jenna.

It appeared from the north and already the air crane was turned sideways with its ID panel lit up. "Lost basket." The words disappeared and a new sentence scrolled in from the right, "Do you have water?"

Tim took another step forward and nodded.

In the air crane, Jackie got a close up of Seely's bruised face and tired eyes. She moved her mouth piece closer and asked, "What should I tell them?"

Back in his aft bubble seat, Michael answered, "Tell them to stay where they are."

She typed the words, and then turned to stare at him, "Now what, Michael?"

"We can't do anything more tonight. We have no equipment, we need more fuel and our passenger needs a doctor. Besides, we've been up since the crack of dawn and tired people have accidents."

"Okay." Reluctantly, Jackie typed a final word, "Sleep."

Below, Tim stared at the chopper until it became little more than a speck in the sky, "Easy for them to say." He turned back and forced a grin, "Look on the bright side, a little sleep is just what we need."

Nearly in tears, Seely walked back toward the elevators.

*

"A7BB."

"BB, go ahead."

"Sarah, that blue chopper lost its basket. Darn, I was hoping they'd head my way, over."

"How did they lose the basket, BB?"

"I don't know, it just fell into the bay. The cable must have snapped. A7BB, out."

"NS7OPG."

"OPG, go ahead."

"NS7OPG we have a child with no parents. First name is Benny. He says he is three and doesn't know what his last name is or where he lives, over."

"Net Control, copy. One found child named Benny. Where are you OPG?"

"NS7OPG. I'm in Wallingford. We have severe damage to houses, traffic pile-ups and water everywhere. Thirty-two reported dead so far and we're still digging. We have injured waiting for transport, but none critical. Man, we've got a lot of broken bones and people are in pain. We have one registered nurse and no supplies, over."

"OPG, copy. Give me a cross street."

"NS7OPG, I'm at 65th and Corliss Avenue right near Green Lake ... or what used to be Green Lake. Most folks around here got the lake in their yards, over."

"Roger OPG, don't forget to take names. Injured in need of transport at 65th and Corliss. Okay, I think A7FL is next.  FL, you still at the I-5 landslide?"

"A7FL, affirmative. It's hopeless, just hopeless. Like I said, it's a forty-foot concrete drop. We can't get down and they can't get up. People are out of their cars and helping where they can, but that metro bus is a pancake. I've never seen anything so awful in my life. One guy tried to make it up the landslide and got himself buried. Is there any help coming -- any help at all? Over."

"I hope so FL. They're trying to clear Highway 99 for emergency traffic."

"Ninety-nine? But that's clear across the city."

"I know FL, keep us posted. Who's next?"

"NV7HC."

"HC, go ahead."

"NV7HC, we have a live power line down on 34th NW, between Woodland Park Avenue and Stone Way, over."

"Net Control, copy. Jerry, do you know if they've taken care of that gas leak in your area? Over."

"NV7HC, not sure. Don't smell any gas here. Over."

"NB7J."

"NB, go ahead."

"NB7J, somebody must have gotten the gas turned off in Freemont.  Don't smell it anymore. They're still working on the drawbridge and hope to get it in the down position soon. Sarah, I checked on Tom Hansen. He's cut up pretty bad, over."

"NB, copy. Sorry to hear it, we sure could use his help. Anyone else?  Injury and damage only please."

*

The closer to the city Sam got, the worse it was. Six miles from downtown, the homes were in shambles. Now choppers and small aircraft passed overhead more frequently. Dogs barked, cats meowed and birds chirped, but car alarms were silent. No televisions blared, no music played, and dazed, stunned parents kept children outside and close at hand. Some people wore tear-stained cheeks and blank looks. Others stayed near car radios listening to the news. No one drove far on the broken and battered streets. And in a city used to sirens, the lack of them upset their sense of security.

Sam Taylor stared at the broken water main sticking out of the ground. The street was flooded at yet another intersection. To avoid it, he found himself walking back an entire block, and then heading toward fifteenth – a more direct route to his bank and the Ballard Bridge. On he walked, the unthinkable damage dulling his senses and the steady blare of Ham Operators filling his earphones.

"WD7GK."

"GK, go ahead."

"WD7GK passing a message from AX7MNB.  Be advised the Everett Mall Way overpass collapsed. Thorndike Memorial Hospital is in pretty good shape and can take more casualties. Everett Salvation Army is mobilizing in City Hall Park, over."

Sarah laid her pencil down, closed her eyes and rested. Her bottle of water was empty and her ceiling was sinking lower, but soon she went right back to work, "Copy that NJ. Who's next?"