by Bobby Akart
They huddled at the base of the three-foot-diameter steel pole and fell asleep, with Anthony curled up in his mom’s jacket. During their fitful sleep, two cars had passed, awakening Beth. However, she was unable to scramble to her feet in time to flag them down.
She had to find a way to stay awake. She coaxed Anthony to his feet, and they moved closer to the highway. The two of them sat on the shoulder and leaned against the cold steel guardrail. That way, Beth surmised, if a car came along, they’d stop because they saw them.
Once again, out of pure exhaustion, she drifted off to sleep. She and Anthony used their body heat to survive the falling temperatures coupled with the moist air.
Then bright lights shining in her eyes woke her up with a start. She instinctively held Anthony in her arms as she tried to block the lights coming from a vehicle parked thirty or forty yards away.
A shadow passed in front of the lights, then out again, temporarily blinding her view. The silhouette was unmistakable.
A man.
A large man was approaching. His body wandered back into the lights, so she could make out the outline of his body as he approached. She could see his right arm reach toward his waist and then swing away from his body slowly. Her eyes grew wide, and fear swept over her.
Gun! she screamed in her mind. The man had pulled a gun from his waist. She gripped Anthony and tried to pull him behind her as she turned her body to place it between the oncoming man and her lovely, innocent child.
As he got closer, she swallowed hard and begged, “Please, mister. Please don’t hurt us.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Friday, December 21
USGS
Golden, Colorado
“If we are at flood stage on the Lower Mississippi, it’s the worst of the worst-case scenarios,” said Dr. Lansing as she drank another Red Bull. She took pride in her health and rarely indulged in anything deemed not good for you. Tonight was an exception. She needed wings, as the company’s advertising stated.
She paced the floor, her mind racing as to all of the various aspects of the massive earthquake that needed to be assessed. She’d been in continuous contact with her boss in Reston and was told to be prepared to address the president’s crisis management team sometime on Saturday. As all of these things filled her already anxious mind, she continued expelling her inner thoughts to her dutiful team.
“Because of these heavy rains the last several days, we have saturated earthen levees that are already breached or are in jeopardy of overtopping. The water has been threatening to flood inland for days, and now the earth is shaking as far south as Natchez, Mississippi.”
“Aquifers are adding to the problem, mum,” said Oliver. “The waters are emerging from below the normal barriers holding them in place. We suspect the rising waters inland are not just from the heavy rainfall. We believe the aquifers are the primary culprit.”
Dr. Lansing stopped and studied the continuous satellite imagery that scrolled across the screens mounted throughout the operations center. “We know the river is gonna take the path of least resistance. It’s occurring in the Lower Mississippi Valley and—”
“Dr. Lansing, my apologies,” interrupted a voice from the back of the room. “In that regard, we just received this from our Region 4 office in Atlanta.”
She spun around and approached the rear of the room, where two analysts on loan from FEMA were working at their assigned stations. The young man rose and stepped a few paces toward her with a multipage report. As she glanced at its contents, he continued.
“Here are the highlights. There are twenty-two miles of levees in Memphis. The Corps of Engineers, with limited resources at the moment, mind you, has been checking for irregularities like boils and obvious slides.”
“Boils?” asked Dr. Lansing.
“Yes, ma’am. Boils occur when water finds its way underneath the levees. The earthquake has disturbed the embankment upon which the levees rest. The downward pressure of the water has increased seepage and the resulting piping—cavities forming from the erosion that are either at risk of collapsing or have already done so.”
“How prevalent are these boils?” she asked.
“Seven major slide events thus far,” he replied and then explained, “Once the structural integrity of the levee has failed, water finds its way through the boils and pops up on the other side. As of yet, this has not occurred. However, the saturated ground is on a slope. There is evidence that the slope is beginning to separate in seven different locations. The intense pressure exerted by the river will eventually cause both sloped sides of the levee to collapse, opening a large breach.”
“Seven?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am. So far, anyway.”
She rolled the report into a long cylinder and tapped it on the palm of her hand. Another geophysicist weighed in.
“This is similar to what is happening in Mississippi except for different reasons,” he began.
“Are you referring to the aquifers?”
“Yes.”
Seismic waves resulting from earthquakes impacted groundwater levels in two ways. One was known as oscillations, and the other was from what scientists deemed permanent offsets.
Oscillations were part of the seismic wave train that roared beneath the surface, causing expansion and contraction of the underground water reservoirs known as aquifers. If the pressure from the seismic wave was great enough, the aquifer would force groundwater throughout its contained area below ground. These changes resulted in water looking for a way out and breaching the surface through wells, sinkholes, and spring-fed creeks, whichever was the path of least resistance.
Offsets were more explosive and resulted from thermal pressurization due to upward movement as the seismic waves passed through the aquifer. Scientific study following the massive earthquake in Alaska in 1964 found the seismic-wave-induced water pressure lasted long after the seismic wave train of the earthquake ceased.
The results of this significant change in the groundwater aquifers stretched beyond the obvious problem of expansive flooding. With the intense shaking of the earthquake, an influx of sediments from the earth invades the aquifer. These particles could include harmful leach nitrates and arsenic compounds, as well as the probability of bacterial contamination in raw water supplies. It was feasible that if the aquifer beneath Mississippi and Louisiana continued to sustain damage, the water supply to that region could be tarnished for decades, if not longer.
“We’ve got to issue water-quality warnings to the entire region,” she instructed.
“Ma’am, um, there’s more.”
“What?”
“Warnings can’t be issued because there is no electricity. Power from Baton Rouge to Des Moines is out. Even emergency communications towers are inoperable in an eight-state region along the Mississippi. Everyone is in the dark, even emergency response personnel.”
Part III
Silent Night
When the world is falling apart around you, it’s natural to seek a place of respite. A spot where you can think, process, and cope. It’s all about finding tranquility in the chaos. As you age, you learn to stop trying to calm the storm that swirls around you. You focus on calming yourself, knowing the storm will pass. However, in the back of your mind, something always nags at you. Because no matter how hard you try to convince yourself, you know …
A storm is coming.
Chapter Thirty
Saturday, December 22
South of Tunica, Mississippi
Beth was trembling as the man approached. His heavy boots splashed the rainwater accumulated on the pavement. He drew his hand close as he approached and then holstered his weapon. His deep Southern drawl was comforting as he spoke to her.
“Now, ma’am, there’s no reason to be alarmed. It’s just procedure nowadays. My name is Willie Angel, and I’m a sergeant with the Mississippi Highway Patrol.”
The older, heavyset black man knelt down a few feet away from Beth s
o the headlights of his patrol car could shine on his face and uniform. He removed his hat and produced a toothy smile.
Beth was still somewhat frightened by the trooper’s sudden appearance and the fact he’d pulled his weapon to approach her. After what she’d been through, she expected the worst.
“Hi, I’m Beth Chandler, and this is my three-year-old, Anthony. We’re traveling to my sister’s home in Cordova, um, Memphis.”
“Out east, right?” asked Willie.
“Yes. Yes, sir. We heard about flooding, and then I turned toward the highway. We got washed off the road and stuck in a field.” Beth’s eyes welled up in tears as she relived the circumstances that got her into this predicament.
“That ain’t fittin’ for the holidays, now is it?”
“No, sir,” she replied as she warmed up to the apparently kind, nonthreatening stranger. “I thought we could walk to the highway and find a ride. The water was deep, and when we finally got here, nobody stopped for us.”
“Well, Miss Chandler, I think I can help you out.”
Willie stood and held his hand out to help her off the ground where the two had remained huddled next to the guardrail. She accepted his hand and held her belly as she rose to her feet.
“Thanks. Um, I’m carrying quite a load, as you can see.” She turned and helped Anthony stand.
“Look at you, Miss Chandler. Congratulations. I’m no expert, but you seem like you’re quite a ways along.”
“Yes, sir. Twenty-eight weeks. Please call me Beth. And this is—”
“Anthony, my name is Willie,” the trooper said, finishing her sentence. He bent over and stuck out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, young man.”
The three-year-old stood emotionless, staring at the man without moving. Beth tried to encourage him to shake hands, but he wouldn’t.
“I’m sorry, sir. He’s, um, autistic. He’s a little shy around strangers.”
Willie stood and placed his hat back on his head. “That’s quite all right. As long as he feels safe. Miss Chandler, you can call me Willie. I happen to be off duty right now, headed back to my home in Tunica. The only people who call me sir are the ones I pull over. Lord knows, they’re just suckin’ up to get out of a ticket.”
Beth started laughing. “I believe it. Okay, Willie. Again, you can call me Beth. And I’m Mrs. Chandler. My husband is in St. Louis on business. He and my brother-in-law, Jack, are heading back to Cordova to celebrate Christmas.”
“All right, Miss—” He hesitated. “All right, Beth. I can give you a ride up to Tunica. There’s some things in the news you apparently don’t know.”
Willie and Beth got Anthony settled in the back seat before the adults slid into the front. As soon as Willie pulled onto the road, Anthony became agitated because he was alone in the back, separated from his mother by the steel-mesh screen separating the two parts of the patrol car. Beth allowed him a minute to get adjusted to the seating arrangements. After another mile, as Anthony became increasingly distraught, Willie pulled over, and Beth joined her son in the back of the patrol car.
As they drove toward Tunica, Beth leaned up onto the edge of the bench seat as best she could to talk with Willie through the steel mesh.
“I feel like a perp,” she said with a laugh.
Willie smiled and glanced back toward her. He gently rapped the steel divider with his right knuckles. “Not all of our cars have these. Normally, when an arrest is made, we hold the suspect until local law enforcement arrives. As drug trafficking on I-55 increased between New Awlins and Memphis, more and more of these busts came under the feds’ jurisdiction. The state guys were required to deliver the prisoners to Jackson. It was a safety thing.”
Beth was impressed that Willie didn’t pronounce New Orleans as N’awlins. He might not have been from Louisiana, but he certainly didn’t refer to the city like a tourist.
“You mentioned there was some news? I was told about the flooding when I stopped for food in Rosedale.”
Willie looked at Beth through the rearview mirror. “Miss Barbara’s?”
“Yeah. You know it?”
“There’s nuthin’ better than those hot tamales.”
“I know, right? I had to leave them in the car.”
Willie slowed and chuckled. “Maybe we should turn around and fetch ’em?”
Beth began to laugh so hard her belly shook, which caused her a twinge of pain. Anthony, who’d remained perfectly still throughout, seemed to relax as his mother did. He giggled although he had no idea why.
“No, thanks. They’re probably flooded anyway. Tell me, what else is in the news?”
Willie had to slow down to drive along the right shoulder of the highway. Beaverdam Lake to their left had swollen well over its banks. The water washed onto Highway 61 for a couple of thousand yards. Once he cleared the floodwaters, he passed by several industrial buildings on the outskirts of Tunica. They, too, were flooded.
The pause in the conversation while he focused on the road gave him time to choose his words carefully. He didn’t want to unduly frighten Beth.
“Here’s what I know. There was an earthquake, Beth. It seemed to stretch along the Mississippi River from just below Memphis to north of St. Louis. Before the upper half of Mississippi lost power, the news reports were kinda sketchy.”
“When?” she asked, forcing herself forward to the edge of the seat again.
“Around 4:45 today. Well, sorry. I mean yesterday. Late afternoon. They say it lasted nearly ten minutes.”
“Good god,” said Beth as she covered her mouth. “How bad is it?”
He took a deep breath. “You know, with the power out, we really don’t have all the details. I think it was localized along the river.”
Willie hesitated just enough as he spoke for Beth’s intuition to pick up on the white lie.
“Willie, please. Tell me what you know. My sister would’ve been in downtown Memphis at that time, and my husband would’ve been in St. Louis.”
“Honestly, this is all I know. The power went out almost immediately up there, and then there was a rolling blackout extending into the adjoining states. Our dispatch asked me to stay on for a whole ’nother shift after mine ended at five yesterday.”
Beth turned in her seat and reached for Anthony’s hand. She slid back on the dark blue vinyl and arched her back to relieve some of the pain she was experiencing. She tried not to cry.
“Here we are,” said Willie softly.
Beth looked forward through the windshield and then side to side through the rear passenger windows. “Where? I can’t see anything.”
“Oh, it’s there. With no lights, you just can’t see our fair little town.”
Willie slowed as he eased through town. A few fast-food restaurants and two gas stations came into view. At that hour, they would’ve been closed anyway, but the lack of any ambient light was disconcerting.
“You live here?” she asked.
“Sure do. For the better part of forty years, I s’pose. My wife and I moved into my folks’ house on Gay Street. Raised three young’uns, shipped them off to Alcorn State, and been here ever since.”
Beth felt her maternity jeans for money or a credit card. They were empty because she normally kept everything in her crossbody bag.
“Willie, um, I don’t have any money for a hotel room. Do you think they’ll—?”
He politely raised his hand and cut her off. “You haven’t met my wife yet, but in a few minutes you will. If she knew I found a seven-month pregnant woman and her toddler on the side of the road and stuck her in the no-tell motel over on Main, she’d give me a tongue-lashin’ like no other. And that’s while she’s takin’ a switch to my backside. She’s reminded me more times than I can count what my Momma used to say. William Angel, you ain’t never too old for a good old-fashioned ass whoopin’.”
Beth laughed, and then the tears flowed at the same time. “Willie, you are an angel. Thank you.”
Chapter Thirty-O
ne
Saturday, December 22
Downtown Memphis, Tennessee
Temperatures had dipped into the upper forties, and the last of the rainfall still caused damp conditions along the river. It had been hours since they’d emerged from the collapsed performing-arts center. While Jill and Emily comforted the children, who were now realizing their parents were dead or missing, Tate set out in search of any first responders who could help rescue survivors from the Halloran’s remains.
For a couple of hours, Tate wandered the streets of Downtown Memphis in search of police and firefighters. He quickly learned how cataclysmic the earthquake had been. No building had been spared the destructive force of the quake. Entire high-rises had toppled. The bridges across the Mississippi River had collapsed or were considered too dangerous to pass.
Broken gas lines caused leaks throughout the city, especially in residential areas, where homes relied upon the natural gas for heat. As the colorless gas permeated buildings, broken power lines caused sparks that ignited the highly combustible mixture of the gas with oxygen in the air. Throughout the night, the deadly combination resulted in a small-scale equivalent of a thermobaric weapon, commonly known as an aerosol bomb.
The explosive, in this case the natural gas, coupled with oxygen, generated hundreds of high-temperature explosions around the city. The blast wave could be so intense, the overpressure ruptured people’s lungs if it didn’t burn them completely.
The aerosol bombs caused fires that swept through the mounds of debris. The misty drizzle that continued overnight had little effect on the out-of-control fires. Fire trucks were stymied by the fallen buildings, broken water mains, and damaged cars that blocked the roads. Memphis had become a massive firestorm that couldn’t be fought by conventional means. They would have to burn themselves out.
