Doomsday in Pompeii
Page 4
Beth watched him. “How long do you have to wind it up?” she asked.
“Until it won’t wind anymore,” he said. Then he suddenly stopped. “There. It’s done.”
“Now what?” Beth asked. “Do we use those antennas to radio someone?”
“Those coils aren’t radio antennas,” Eugene said.
“What are they for?” Beth asked.
“The Imagination Station used them to track satellites,” Eugene said.
“Track satellites?” Beth asked in surprise. “You mean this machine talked to satellites in space?”
Eugene nodded. “However,” he said, “that is as much as I’m allowed to say. Mr. Whittaker may tell you more if he chooses.”
“Why?” Beth asked.
“Because this invention was a top-secret project for the government,” Eugene said.
“What?” Beth cried out.
“I’m surprised Mr. Whittaker hasn’t destroyed it,” Eugene said.
Eugene moved to the back of the machine and began to push it. “Help me move this,” he said. “We need to position it next to the newer Imagination Station. It has small wheels underneath the base.”
The invention moved easily when they pushed together.
They reached the other machine, and Eugene waved a hand. “Get in, please,” he said.
Beth was happy to do that.
She sat down on the driver’s side. The cushion was lumpy. The steering wheel was small and plain. The dashboard had only a few nobs.
Eugene picked up a large cable. He attached one end of it to the engine block. Then he moved to the newer Imagination Station. He picked up the other end of the cable. He connected the cable to a panel in the back.
She put her hands on the steering wheel. “Am I going to drive through time?” she asked as a joke.
Eugene looked at her seriously. “You won’t,” he said. “But I will.”
Patrick stood up first. His ears were still ringing.
The sky was already thickening with gray-and-brown smoke. Specks of gray ash covered his toga. He dusted off the ash. He coughed. His chest ached. He wondered if they might run out of clean air.
Valen sat up and rubbed his head.
Patrick picked up Valen’s staff. Then he helped the old man stand up.
“Thank you,” Valen said.
The annoying ringing in Patrick’s ears had faded away.
Suddenly Octo burst through the soap-factory door. His face was as pale as a bar of his soap. “We must hurry!” Octo shouted at them.
Then he ran down the street and shouted again and again, “The end is here! To the sea! To the sea!”
“We should follow him,” Patrick said. He hooked his elbow with Valen’s.
Valen shook his head. “No,” he said. “I must tell Grata and Cosmus about the boat.”
“But the ash is falling,” Patrick said. “The lava will come soon.”
“All the more reason to help them. Their villa is on the way to the sea,” Valen said. He pointed with his staff. “That way. Let’s not waste time.”
The people of Pompeii were running around Patrick and Valen. The children, the mothers, and the fathers rushed out of their homes and workplaces. Every face looked panicked.
Patrick heard shouts, names being cried out, and screams. Mothers called for their children. Men urged their wives to hurry. Masters shouted orders at their slaves.
The brick roads echoed the sounds of sandals slapping down. The hooves of sheep and goats stampeded over the ground. The wooden wheels of carts clattered.
Sheep and goats bleated loudly. They sounded like human babies crying to be fed. Birds chirped and squawked in the sky and the trees.
Patrick and Valen locked elbows to keep from being pulled apart. Patrick was amazed at Valen’s strength and speed.
The old preacher used his staff to push through the crowd.
“Here is Cosmus’s villa,” Valen said.
Patrick looked up. A vast, beautiful lawn spread out in front of him. Several white statues and birdbaths decorated the lawn. Flowery vines clung to walls and benches. Three fountains sprayed water more than ten feet high.
A huge house sat beyond the lawn. It had tall, white walls and pillars.
“That’s a villa?” Patrick asked in amazement.
Valen pulled Patrick along the path to the house.
The atrium was empty.
Valen knocked on the front door with his staff. There was no answer.
The old man pushed open the door. “Grata!” Valen called out. “It is I, Valen.”
No one answered.
Valen stepped inside. He called out for Grata.
Still no answer.
Patrick followed him into the house.
A crash came from deeper inside. The noise sounded like glass shattering on tile.
Valen and Patrick moved through the kitchen. They entered the eating area. Shards of pottery were spread out on the floor.
Farther on, a young man bent over a large bag. Candlesticks and jewelry spilled out from the mouth of the bag. The young man turned toward them.
Patrick groaned. It was Junius.
The Villa
Beth sat in the car-like Imagination Station and watched Eugene.
Eugene raced around the workshop. First he tinkered with a cable. Next he went to the Master Control Room. Then he came back. Finally he fiddled with the control panels on the two Imagination Stations.
“I’m ready to go,” Eugene said. “You may get out of the Imagination Station.”
Beth crossed her arms. “I should go,” she said. “Patrick is my cousin.”
“But his adventure is my responsibility,” Eugene said. “I can’t risk putting you in danger too.”
“If you go, something bad could happen. I couldn’t help,” Beth said. “If I go, something bad could happen. But you could figure out how to help us.”
She clutched the steering wheel. She wanted Eugene to know she wasn’t going to get out.
Eugene thought for a moment. Then he sighed and said, “You’re right.”
“I am?” she asked with surprise.
“Yes,” he said. “Regrettably, I must allow you to go.”
She smiled and said, “Great! What do I need to know?”
Eugene leaned on the rim of the driver’s door. “Finding Patrick won’t be easy in a crowded city,” he said. “You must be careful. Stay away from lava. Stay away from dogs. They could be have rabies.”
“Got it,” she said.
“And remember,” Eugene added, “the air is poisonous.” He wiped his forehead. “Get out if you start coughing a lot. And get out fast.”
Beth nodded. She studied the dashboard. “How does it start?” she asked.
Eugene pointed to a black knob in the center of the dashboard.
She pulled it. The engine began to whir. Then she heard a noise behind her.
“Oh!” Eugene said and stepped away.
A cloth roof lifted from the trunk. It rose up and over her. It rested on the frame of the windshield. There were loud clicks as it locked down.
Beth looked at Eugene through the side window. “I’m covered by a giant umbrella,” she said. “Is it supposed to rain?”
Eugene smiled. The machine rumbled and shook.
Beth grabbed hold of the steering wheel.
The car seemed to surge forward into the workshop. But everything she saw through the windshield blurred.
Then the dots broke apart. They sprayed out of the machine like water droplets.
I’m driving through time, Beth thought.
And then suddenly, everything went black.
“You again!” Patrick shouted at Junius.
Junius grabbed the bag and stood up. The candlesticks clanked together. “Funny meeting you here,” he said calmly to Patrick.
Then the slave eyed Valen. “I know you,” Junius said. “You’re the crazy old man who keeps preaching about one God.”
“Don’t
talk to him that way,” Patrick said. “You’re in enough trouble as it is.”
“I am?” Junius asked. “And what are you two doing in a senator’s home? I’m sure you don’t have permission. My master could throw you to the lions.”
“We’re here to warn Grata and take her to the docks,” Patrick said.
“You’re too late. She’s already there. I’m taking supplies to her,” Junius said. He hoisted the bag over his shoulder.
“You’re lying!” Patrick cried.
Valen put a firm hand on Patrick’s arm. “He is a servant of Cosmus and Grata.”
Patrick’s mouth fell open. “He is? But I saw him looting another villa earlier.”
Valen turned to Junius. “Is that so?”
“No,” Junius said with a smug look. “I caught him looting.”
Patrick was stunned by the lie. He could only stammer, “No! That’s—”
“It’s all right,” Valen said quietly to Patrick. Valen leaned toward Junius. “Grata won’t need candlesticks and silverware,” he said. “Perhaps food and clothing would be more useful.”
At first Junius looked confused. It seemed as if he didn’t know what to say. Then he smiled and said, “Grata hopes to buy her passage with these costly items.”
Patrick glared at Junius. It seemed to make sense. But it was hard to believe he was telling the truth.
Valen said, “She won’t have to worry about buying her passage. Our church has a boat. It’s waiting at the docks.”
“Is Cosmus there?” Junius asked.
“He’s at the treasury,” Valen replied.
Junius’s eyes brightened. “Treasury? Why is he there?”
“The vault split open in the tremor,” Valen said. “We must go there to find him.”
“He’s my master! I’ll go too,” Junius said.
Valen shook his head. “Go to the docks! Help Grata with the boat. Nonus the soap maker will tell you what to do.”
Junius gave a bow to Valen. “As you wish,” he said.
“We must hurry,” Valen said to Patrick.
Patrick took the lead. The three headed for the front door.
Suddenly, Patrick heard a loud crash behind him.
Then Valen cried out.
Patrick spun around.
Valen was sprawled on the floor among the candlesticks and silverware.
“What happened?” Patrick asked.
“The bag slipped from my fingers,” Junius said. “It fell in front of him. He tripped over it.”
Valen groaned and struggled to sit up.
Patrick knelt next to him. “Are you all right?” he asked.
Valen reached down and rubbed his ankle. “I’ll be okay,” he said. “It’s not broken.”
Patrick glared at Junius. “You did that on purpose!” he said. “Why?”
“There’s no time for blame,” Valen said sharply. “You must find Cosmus without me.”
“I can’t leave you here,” Patrick said.
“I’ll make my way,” Valen said. “Go. Now.”
Patrick stood up.
“Don’t worry,” Junius said. “We’ll find Cosmus together.”
Cave Canem
Beth climbed out of the Imagination Station. The motor whirred as she stepped back. The machine disappeared.
Beth looked around. She was in a garden villa. A small fountain bubbled nearby. Mount Vesuvius belched out smoke in the distance. “I’m in the right place,” she said.
She coughed. The air was sour and ashy. Her lungs felt as if they were burning.
She put a hand to her chest and touched soft fabric. She was wearing a green Roman dress and leather sandals.
A dog barked nearby. Beth turned just as a white dog, jaws open, lunged at her.
Beth cried out. She took a step backward. She raised her arms to shield her face.
The dog leaped on its hind legs. Then it suddenly yelped. It had reached the end of its chain. The dog tumbled back.
Beth sighed in relief. “Are you all right?” she asked.
The dog stood up and wagged its tail.
“Cave canem,” she said, practicing her Latin for “beware of dog.”
Then Beth saw something unusual in the grass. “A cowboy hat and a saddlebag!” she said to the dog. “In first-century Rome?”
The dog chomped on the hat as if to answer. It shook the hat and gave a playful growl.
Beth felt sorry for the dog. It was trapped. The volcano would surely kill it.
“Easy now,” she said. She took a step closer.
The dog wagged its tail.
She moved close enough to pat its head.
The dog licked her hand.
“Good doggie,” Beth whispered. “Please don’t bite me.”
Beth took off the dog’s collar and chain. She dropped them in the grass.
Suddenly the dog grabbed the hat in its mouth. It bolted out of the garden.
“You’re welcome,” she called after it.
Beth wondered if Patrick was in the house. She went to the front door. It was slightly ajar. “Patrick,” she called.
No one answered.
She called a few more times. But she heard only the sound of her echo. Patrick must be somewhere else, she thought. She went back to the fountain. She picked up the saddlebag. Patrick might need this, she thought.
Beth left the villa grounds and followed a path downhill. She walked a few hundred yards. Then she came to a fork in the road.
To the left or the right? Which way did Patrick take? she wondered.
Patrick and Junius ran to the Forum.
Patrick slowed when he reached the center of the lawn. Few people remained. He studied the buildings.
“Which one has the treasury?” he asked Junius.
Junius pointed to one of the largest buildings. It had more than a dozen white columns in front. “It’s inside and under guard,” Junius said.
Patrick took a step toward the temple.
KABOOM!
The ground rolled. Patrick felt as if he were on a lurching ship. He staggered but managed to stay standing.
Patrick’s stomach turned. He felt ill. He leaned against an empty pillar.
Patrick looked toward the mountain. The peak had blown off. Black smoke and fire spouted from its mouth. Rocks the size of baseballs hurled through the air. Melted rock spilled down the mountainsides.
Patrick felt wave after wave of heat.
Junius stood beside Patrick. “Look at that!” he said.
The ground kept shaking. Patrick looked in front of him. The columns on a small temple cracked and collapsed. The roof toppled and fell to the ground.
People screamed and ran.
“We have to find Cosmus,” Patrick said.
Junius smiled. His eyes were bright—even joyous.
“Let’s go,” Junius said. He rushed toward the temple of Jupiter.
How long before the lava spills over the city? Patrick wondered. He also wondered about the Imagination Station. Would it appear in time to rescue him?
Beth headed toward the city. A layer of ash covered the road. She took a step. A small cloud of gray puffed up under her feet.
KABOOM!
The ground jerked sideways. Beth stumbled sideways. She fell.
The ash blew into her face as she hit the ground. She groaned. Her side hurt.
She pushed herself up on her elbows. Her breaths came in wheezy gasps.
Plop!
A hot ball of rock landed a few inches from her hand.
She gasped and rolled away from it.
Another ball of fire hit near her feet.
The sky was raining fire!
The Temple
Patrick followed Junius to the temple of Jupiter.
A statue of a Roman god lay in pieces on the steps.
Junius whistled. “Even the great Jupiter has fallen,” he said.
Part of the building was also destroyed. Several of its columns lay toppled on the ground like
broken pencils. Half of the roof had collapsed. The other half slanted.
Junius and Patrick hurried up the temple steps. They approached the building’s edge. Patrick was careful to avoid the unstable roof.
“Senator Cosmus!” Patrick shouted.
Silence.
“Is anyone in there?” Patrick called.
“Help!” a man cried out.
The rain of lava stopped. Beth got up and dusted the ash off of her dress.
Suddenly, the dog ran around a corner. It had the cowboy hat in its mouth.
“Arf!” it barked—and the hat dropped at her feet.
Beth shoved the hat inside of the saddlebag.
“Why did you come back?” Beth asked the dog as she patted its head.
The dog turned and trotted down the road. It looked back at Beth and barked again.
“Okay,” Beth said. “I’m coming.”
Tail wagging, the dog hurried on ahead.
In the city, the roads were jammed with travelers and livestock. Fallen buildings blocked parts of the road. Beth followed the dog around the debris.
Beth called out for Patrick as she walked.
The dog put its nose to the ground.
Was it tracking something? Beth wondered.
Then it slipped inside a one-story building.
Beth peeked inside the door. It looked like a restaurant. Tables and benches were knocked over. Goblets had dropped to the floor, leaving dark red stains on the stone. Half loaves of bread and sticks of meat lay on metal platters.
The dog crouched underneath a bench. It bit into a chunk of sausage. Then it came over to her and dropped the meat at her feet.
“Thanks,” she said. “I’m not very hungry.”
Beth knelt next to the dog and patted its head. She opened the saddlebag and pulled out the contents.
Carrots, a badge, and spectacles aren’t helpful now, she thought. But she tied one of the handkerchiefs around her neck. She pulled it up to cover her mouth and nose. It might help to block some of the ash in the air.
She made a loop in the rope. She slipped it around the dog’s neck. “I hope you don’t mind a leash,” she said.