Cynthia felt the bench shake as a deep rumble filled the air. The geyser roared out of the ground, climbing higher and higher into the air as if it would never stop.
Screaming voices erupted from the crowd, as boiling water crashed down onto the startled spectators. Everyone ran for shelter, pushing and shoving each other out of the way in a desperate attempt to escape the scalding deluge.
Cynthia grabbed Sissy’s hand, yanking her off the bench as she jumped up and began running toward the hotel. She forced her way through the crowd of panicked people into the hotel lobby. When she reached the fireplace in the center of the room, she dropped to her knees and held Sissy at arm’s length, “Are you hurt? Did you get burnt?”
“I’m okay. What happened? Why did it do that?”
“I don’t know, darling. It wasn’t supposed to.”
Screams echoed in the massive room as injured people shoved their way into the lobby. Cynthia wrapped her arms around Sissy, clutching her tightly against her chest as she stood and moved to one side of the room. She felt Sissy’s tears slipping down the side of her neck. Her own vision began to blur watching parents trying to comfort their wailing children.
*
Myra Epson, the Director of the lodging in the park, was not prepared for the number of burn victims staggering into the Old Faithful Hotel. The ambulance service in the park was limited, and the overwhelmed medical staff consisted of one doctor and four nurses. She had called the small towns outside the park for assistance, but they would not arrive for another thirty minutes. Thankfully, the geyser had stopped a few moments after the colossal eruption.
She watched the hotel employees carrying tubs of ice and stacks of white cotton towels into the reception area. Other employees were handing dripping wet towels to those caught in the rain of super-heated water. As she listened to the screams of the injured children, she fought hard to maintain a calm composure, but her sense of helplessness to ease their suffering threatened to shatter her false facade.
*
When the USGS Representative, Jerry Mercer, arrived at the hotel from the Mammoth Station, he walked across the lobby to Myra. She had been the Director of the park hotels for twelve years, but now she looked overwhelmed by the sight in the lobby. He noticed the tears welling up in Myra’s eyes. He too was struggling to keep his emotions in check. “Is there anything I can do to help, Myra?”
Myra turned and looked at Jerry as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Why did this happen, Jerry? Should I evacuate all the accommodations in this area of the park?”
“We don’t know why this happened, Myra. We didn’t notice any unusual seismic activity here in the park. We’re also checking the outlying areas for unusual activity, but for the moment we don’t know what caused the geyser to erupt like that.”
“I’m sending any injured tourists who can drive to the hospital in West Yellowstone. I’ll try to make the rest as comfortable as possible until the ambulances arrive from the outlying towns. I just hope Old Faithful doesn’t erupt again. We’re not set up to handle this type of incident.”
“I saw the maintenance crew outside roping off the area around the geyser. If it happens again, no one will get hurt. Everything else is far enough away. I’ll keep you informed on what we discover.”
“Thanks, Jerry.”
*
When Jerry walked into the Yellowstone Seismic Information Center, he saw his two fellow geophysics experts, Paul Sterling and Vivian Kerns, studying the data on the computers. Technically, he was their supervisor, but they were more like a family. They turned in their chairs to look at him. “How are we doing with finding the reason for the event at Old Faithful?” He asked.
Vivian shook her head. “Nothing about it makes any sense, Jerry.”
Paul stood and indicated the large wall-mounted video screen showing the twelve GPS stations in the park. “The only unit indicating any movement is the one amber light flashing at the Old Faithful station. The elevation increased by point-five inches, but once the event was over, it returned to its previous elevation. It’s like the ground under the geyser burped.”
Jerry studied the screen. “It’s not that I doubt you, Paul, but are you sure the unit is functioning correctly? I mean, that’s not possible.”
“I’m positive it actually occurred.”
“I agree with Paul’s findings,” said Vivian. “This could be very bad, Jerry. It means something is happening deep in the caldera.”
“When is our next opportunity for an INSAR image?” (Interferometric Synthetic Aperture Radar.)
“We won’t have access to the satellite for another two weeks.” Paul answered. “What the hell is going on?”
Jerry slowly shook his head. “I have no idea.”
Paul frowned. “We’re supposed to be the experts, but right now I feel like a freshman geology student.”
The mention of geology students caused Jerry to think about his friend, Alex Cave. He seemed to have an uncanny ability for discovering the cause of unusual seismic events. “I have a friend who might be able to help us. Let’s just hope that’s the end of it. I guess between now and then we just keep working on finding the reason.”
*
MONTANA STATE COLLEGE, BOZEMAN:
When the last senior geophysics student stopped at his desk, Alex knew what she wanted. She was quite a bit older than his other students, and had made her intentions clear since the first semester.
“It’s Friday, Alex. Join me for a drink?”
He found her attractive and very outgoing, but when he was close to her, something just did not feel right. No connection, as it was. After their third date, he realized he was not totally over the loss of his wife, even though deep down he knew he should be. “I was just leaving for Wyoming.”
She leaned over the desk and smiled. “I’ll take a rain check. Have a good trip.”
“Thanks.”
When she smiled and left the room, Alex locked his desk drawers and grabbed his briefcase. Since he had arrived home from Alaska nearly a week ago, he had been anxiously awaiting information about Henry. So far not even Director Donner had been able to find him.
Alex was still baffled as to why his wrist had suddenly felt sprained. Was the sphere just cargo like the devices? He wondered. Did it function as part of the spaceship? Did it have some sort of electrical charge?
His phone vibrated in the front pocket of his jeans. Alex set his briefcase on the desk hoping the call would be information about the Doc, but the caller ID was his friend in Yellowstone National Park, Jerry Mercer. “Hi, Jerry.”
“I hope I’m not interrupting, Alex.”
Alex grinned when he heard Jerry’s baritone voice. Jerry was only five foot tall. “I was just on my way out. What’s going on?”
“We’re getting some strange activity from the Yellowstone caldera. We’re not sure what to make of it, and I wondered if you could lend us your expertise. Any chance you could come to my office at the Mammoth Station?”
Alex hesitated to reply. Okana had asked him to come to his hometown for his father’s funeral tomorrow afternoon. A detour through the park would add three hours to his four hour drive this evening. “There’s someplace I need to be tomorrow and I was just getting ready to leave. Can it wait until I get back?”
Jerry explained what happened with Old Faithful earlier today. “We can’t figure out the cause, Alex. I could really use your expertise.”
Alex knew the Yellowstone super volcano erupts about every seven hundred and fifty thousand years, and was already past due for another major eruption. These incidents might be an indication it was becoming active again. “I’ll detour through the park on my way. I’ll be there in an hour.”
“That would be great, Alex. I’ll be waiting.”
Alex slipped the phone into his coat pocket, grabbed his briefcase again, and locked the door behind him on his way to the parking lot. His suitcase was already sitting on the back seat, so he climbed into his S
UV and drove south toward Yellowstone.
*
Sasha Kinski, alias Mary Smith on her fake passport, grabbed the small set of binoculars from the dash of her rented gray sedan when Alex walked out the door of the college building. She waited until he climbed into his SUV before turning on her hand held GPS receiver. She noted the current location of the tracker under Alex’s vehicle, waited until Alex drove out of the parking lot, and then checked the GPS again to make sure it was functioning correctly. Once satisfied, she grabbed her phone and entered a number. “Cave is not going home, Boris.” She said with a slight Russian accent. “He is headed south on highway eighty-nine. That is the road to their Yellowstone National Park.”
“I have a lock on his signal, but I don’t think his family lives in a National Park. I’ll track him from here. He’ll lead us to his family eventually. Stop at Cave’s house and pick my idiot brother and head back here to the safe house.”
*
YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK. MAMMOTH STATION:
When Jerry saw Alex walk through the door, he stood from behind his desk and walked around to greet him. “Glad you could make it.”
Alex reached down to shake the little man’s hand. “You got my attention when you said that you don’t know what’s happening. You’re the guru for this park.”
Jerry grinned shyly. “You give me too much credit, Alex. Here’s what we know so far.” He indicated the wall monitor. “These twelve GPS stations give us real time information about the different elevations of the park. What happened at Old Faithful was the only seismic event in the entire park. It’s almost as if it was man-made. Any idea how that’s even possible?”
Alex studied the monitor thoughtfully. Certainly, it was an unusual event. With the focus in one area, it was completely outside of the usual modus operandi. Definitely not normal. He debated what to say when he turned back to Jerry. “I can’t imagine anyone having the ability to cause the event, much less that they would be doing it on purpose.”
“I’ve heard stories about you Alex. I’m not sure how much of it is true, but we have a mutual friend who thinks very highly of you. Wesley Patterson. According to him, something caused his volcanoes to become active two weeks ago. When I pressed him for an explanation, he said it would be up to you to explain what happened. So what happened, Alex?”
“I know what you’re thinking, Jerry, but the cause of the incident with Wesley’s volcanoes is not what’s causing the problem here in the park, at least as far as I can see.” Alex regarded his friend and thought a moment. The Cold Energy operation was classified and not related to the incident at Old Faithful, but now he was curious. “Tell you what. Send me the data you have collected thus far and I'll try to correlate it with our other experiences. If there's any kind of a link I’ll let you know, but I wouldn't get my hopes up.”
Jerry’s shoulder’s sagged. “At least now you know what’s going on. Thanks for stopping by.”
Alex accepted the handshake. “Call me if anything changes.”
Jerry stared after Alex when he turned and walked out the door. He knew Alex was holding something back. He leaned back against the desk and crossed his arms. If what Patterson told me is not related, then what in hell caused the event at Old Faithful?
He stared across the room at the wall monitor. The amber light from the GPS unit near the Old Faithful station was steady. Thankfully, the geyser was still quiet. He grabbed his car keys off the desk on his way to the door.
* * *
Chapter 6
STILLWATER, WYOMING:
Just north of Mason, Wyoming, Alex turned east onto a two lane road. He kept thinking about what happened at Yellowstone. For the Old Faithful geyser to erupt with such force meant something major had occurred deep beneath the park, but why would it erupt so forcefully without any warning?
The headlights illuminated a large green and white sign. WELCOMED TO STILLWATER, WYOMING. POPULATION 550. It was nearly midnight, but thankfully, Okana had reserved him a room. Four miles farther, he parked in front of the motel office.
A bell chimed as he walked through the swinging glass door. There was no one behind the counter, but he heard a television in the background. A moment later, a Native American man walked out from an adjoining room. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m Alex Cave, and I have a reservation.”
The man walked over to an assortment of keys hanging from hooks beneath an elk’s head mounted on the wall. “Okana said you would be showing up this afternoon. I did not think it would be this late.” He held a key out above the registration form. “You need not bother with that, Alex.”
Alex accepted the key. “Thanks.”
He left the office, grabbed his small suitcase from the back seat of his SUV, and opened the motel room door. He flipped on the light switch as he walked into the modest room. He was dead tired, so he just tossed the suitcase onto the dresser and set the alarm clock for 8:00 AM. Once undressed, he threw back the bed cover and collapsed onto the bed.
It seemed his head had just hit the pillow when the blaring music of a country song erupted from the alarm clock. After a shower, Alex dressed and left his suitcase on the dresser, knowing he’d be staying at least another night. He locked the door behind him and walked down to the office.
As Alex walked inside, a woman with strands of gray in her long dark hair immediately walked up to the counter from the other room. She was an attractive Native American woman. “Good morning, Alex.” She said in a pleasant voice. “Is your room okay?”
Alex smiled. “Yes, thank you. Is there a restaurant in town?”
“Yes, Arty’s. It’s the only one for a hundred miles. Go right at the four way stop and it will take you through town. It’s just down the street from the municipal building. The light in his sign’s not working, but you can’t miss it.”
“Thanks. What do I owe you for the room?”
“Not a thing. My nephew considers you part of our family. I’ll see you at Ahiga’s memorial service this afternoon.”
Alex’s eyebrow went up. “Ahiga? I thought his name was Richard?”
“Ahiga is his Indian name. It means he laughs. Okana means wolf, so his Indian name is Laughing Wolf”
“I see. Okay, I’ll see you at the service. Thanks.”
Alex climbed into his SUV and backed out of the parking lot, and then drove down the highway toward Stillwater. When he turned right at the stop sign as instructed, he thought he had been transported back in time. On the right side of the street, a row of two-story red brick buildings was connected by a covered wooden walkway. One shop had an old barber’s pole out front, another had a large wooden scissors and a sewing thimble hanging out over the street. Farther down on his left, thick slabs of gray stone steps led up to the matching two-story Stillwater Municipal Building.
When Alex saw the sign for Arty’s restaurant, he pulled into the parking lot near the front door. The smell of bacon and a hint of coffee drifted through his open window. When he climbed out of the SUV, he took a moment to enjoy the magenta colored sunrise over the wide-open desert before he entered.
A small bell chimed when he opened the swinging glass door, and he smiled. It seemed everyone had bells on their doors. When he walked inside it could have been a scene from an old western movie. Moveable round wooden tables and chairs and a long wooden counter reminded him of a saloon. He found a vacant table and sat down. A moment later, a robust man with a slightly bulbous nose walked up to take his order.
“Good morning, Alex. I’m Arty. What can I get ya?”
“What? How did you know who I am?”
“It’s a small town and people like to gossip.”
Alex grinned. He liked the small town atmosphere, just like the small town where he grew up. “I’ll start with coffee. Bacon and eggs over easy would be nice.”
“Will do. Back shortly.”
Alex stood to look at the memorabilia and pictures on the wall next to the counter. An old bronze fram
ed photograph depicted an era of horse drawn wagons and saddled horses tied to a hitching rail. Another picture showed the construction of the County Municipal building. The year 1823 had been chiseled into a tall gray stone obelisk at the bottom of the steps. Another photo was looking down the main street at two vintage narrow tired automobiles trying to get out of the muddy road. Across from the municipal building were the row of old red brick stores he had passed earlier. The sign above the nearest store proclaimed the assayer’s office was proudly owned by Wilber T. Patrick since 1807. Other photographs depicted the harsh conditions for the miners and the gray mountains surrounding a mine entrance. Apparently, Stillwater was born as a boomtown, which refused to die when the ore played out. The pictures said a lot about the people in this community. He walked back to his table and sat down.
Arty walked up and set his breakfast on the table. “Here you go, Alex.”
“Thanks.”
“That earthquake yesterday sure shook up a lot of people around here. In fact, as far as I can remember there has never been an earthquake here in Stillwater.”
Alex sat up. This can’t be just a coincidence, he thought. “What time did it occur?”
“Right around two. I think it has something to do with what’s going on at the old gold mine. One day this big company from out west took it over and nobody’s been allowed to get close to it anymore. A friend of mine said they’re doing secret research for the government and they shoot trespassers.”
Alex suppressed a grin. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.”
Alex looked up when the bell on the door chimed. A stalky man in a dark blue sheriff’s uniform entered. The sheriff looked around for a moment before walking up to his table.
“You must be Alex Cave. I’m Bruce Roswell, the county sheriff. Mind if I join you?”
Alex indicated an empty chair. “Not at all, Sheriff.”
Bruce slid the chair out and sat down across from Alex. “I understand you’re a geophysicist.”
The Alex Cave Series. Books 1, 2, & 3.: Box set Page 66
