by E S Richards
Mia took this as a cue for the group to continue and followed behind Patrick, leaving a respectful distance between herself and him so she couldn’t overhear what he was saying. Everyone else continued to follow behind, the silence in the group much more morbid than before. They were more reluctant to look at bodies as they passed them, for fear of something similar happening again.
It only took a few more minutes for them to leave the airport grounds behind though, and with it the bodies grew less and less frequent. The valley continued to drop ahead of them and the evidence of the lahars was unmistakable. The entire landscape had been flattened, trees brought down by the force of the water and a dirty layer of black covering everything that remained. It was like the earth had been charred, none of the greenery or bright colors that had dotted the scenery only a few days earlier left in its place.
“Holy cow,” Michael exclaimed quietly from the back of the group, though in the silence it was loud enough for everyone to hear. “Angelica, is that our home?”
Angelica didn’t reply, her eyes transfixed by a small collection of houses farther down the valley. There was a winding road that led down to them from the airport and then continued off into the distance—presumably toward the nearest large town. Their group was cutting across the valley toward it now, the place where Angelica and Michael lived the first destination on their long journey. It would still take them a few more hours to reach it, but already they could all see what had happened to it.
In all honesty, Mia was surprised the place was still standing. After a quick rough count she estimated there were no more than fifty houses in the town, a close-knit community where it was very likely everyone knew everybody and they weren’t very welcoming to outsiders. In a way, it made Mia understand more about the way Angelica and Michael acted. If they had been brought up in that community, they were unlikely to be the friendliest of people. She had experienced it many times before, though she still believed people had the ability to change that sort of thing.
None of that really mattered anymore though. What was more important was whether there were still any people left in the village at all. It looked like the lahars had swum directly through the middle of it, some houses already brought down and destroyed.
“I can still see people there,” Michael continued, his voice slightly muffled through the sweater he had wrapped around the lower half of his face. “They’ll still be all right, won’t they?”
Squinting slightly through the murky air, Mia too managed to identify a few bodies moving between the houses down below. They were still much too far away to see anything in any more detail, but there were people alive down there for sure.
“Mia?” Michael questioned, desperation filling his voice as he looked upon his home. “They’ll still be all right, won’t they?”
“I—I think so,” Mia replied uncertainly, “but I can’t really say for sure until we get down there.”
“You don’t think people will have died, do you?” Not only desperation but also sadness and a touch of fear oozed from Michael with his words. It was obvious he was afraid of what had happened down there. It was likely where his family lived. Mia realized she didn’t even know if Michael had children or not. If they had been down in the village, he was almost certainly thinking the worst, his body nearly shaking as he looked at the scene below.
“I don’t know,” Mia replied, wishing she had something better to say to him. She didn’t want to fill him with false hope though, knowing in reality it was very likely that people had lost their lives. They all saw what had happened in the airport, and just because the people down in the valley would’ve been inside their own homes didn’t mean they would have been any safer.
“Oh man,” Michael ran a hand through his hair, biting his bottom lip so hard that he nearly drew blood. “Angelica, what do we do? Do you think Mom will be okay? Talk to me!”
Furrowing her brow, Mia waited to hear what Angelica would reply, but again the woman remained silent, staring blankly down at her home below. Were the two of them siblings? They didn’t look very similar, but Mia figured it had to be possible. It was really starting to hit her how little she knew about everyone she was traveling with. With the exception of Jorge, she didn’t even know anyone’s last name.
“We should keep moving,” Mia offered when Angelica still didn’t respond. “We can’t find anything out from just looking at it. We should keep moving and ask these questions when we can get some answers.”
“Angie…” Michael pleaded, shortening Angelica’s name in an affectionate manner. Still it had no effect and in frustration he threw up his arms and huffed aggressively at her. “Fine. Whatever. Come on, let’s just get down there.”
Storming off ahead of the group, it was now Michael’s turn to lead the charge. Patrick hadn’t said anything since the encounter with his wife, though Allie now walked beside him rather than being carried in his arms. The three college students were all huddled together too, reluctant to speak due to the frosty air in the group. With everyone now aware of their destination and the path they would need to take to get there, Mia let herself float to the back of the group and walked beside Jorge, finding comfort in a familiar face that she knew the history of.
“This hasn’t been a good start, Mia.” He tugged down his own scarf a fraction so he could whisper to her as the two scientists fell into step side-by-side. “At this rate, it’ll take us months to get home.”
“I know,” Mia murmured back, “but what other choice do we have?”
“We should’ve just set out alone,” Jorge replied. “We’d be much quicker that way.”
“We couldn’t just leave everyone behind,” Mia’s voice rose slightly at Jorge’s suggestion, appalled by what he was saying. Remembering their company and the already unpleasant atmosphere within the group she lowered it quickly, continuing their conversation in much more hushed tones. “They have as much right to survive as we do, Jorge. We don’t get to make the rules just because we have the best information.”
“Normally that’s how it works,” Jorge grumbled, the unpleasant aspects of his character coming out in swaths as the conversation went on.
Mia bit her tongue. She wanted to talk to Jorge properly, but she couldn’t abide what he was suggesting. Again she was reminded of his need to always be the best, to be number one or at least to appear that way to other people. She knew he was selfish, but she needed him on this journey and she couldn’t lead the group without him.
“Okay,” she spoke, brushing over what had just happened and trying to get to her point. “Let’s forget about it. There was actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”
Jorge raised his eyebrows, giving Mia a look that indicated she should continue. Looking at his face, Mia noticed that he was probably better groomed than she was. His eyebrows were perfect, not a hair out of place, and while her hair was unruly and matted with dirt from everything they had been through, his looked pristine and unsoiled. That was another thing she decided she didn’t like very much about Jorge; when a man took longer to get ready than a woman did in the morning Mia was always just a little bit suspicious.
“Right,” she continued, trying to push thoughts of Jorge’s perfect eyebrows from her head. “This eruption. What do you think caused it?”
“Caused it?” Jorge sounded surprised and a little amused. “Come on, Mia. We study this sort of thing every day. We know what caused it. The pressure builds up underneath the rock and then when the rock can’t hold it anymore, it erupts. It’s a volcano.”
“I know that,” Mia sighed exasperatedly. Jorge was speaking to her like she was a child. She wasn’t an idiot, she just believed there were bigger forces at play than natural effects. “But Yellowstone shouldn’t have erupted. That volcano has been dormant forever. There shouldn’t have been that much added pressure under the rock face, and there hasn’t been any big tectonic plate movement that would’ve set it off.”
“So what do you thin
k caused it then?” Jorge questioned, the Spaniard himself now struggling to keep his voice low. “You must have an idea yourself or you wouldn’t bring it up. What do you think created all this mess?”
“Fracking,” Mia replied after a few moments of silence. “The fracking activity around the national park has increased year after year in that area. The number of drills that go in and out of the ground every day is staggering. Some even in places which are supposed to be protected. I think the fracking set Yellowstone off. I don’t think this is a completely natural disaster.”
Jorge contemplated Mia’s suggestion for a moment, letting her words sink in as he thought about the additional knowledge he also carried. He supposed it was a possibility. It made sense when you thought about it in the simplest terms, and if that happened more often than not, it was right. But still, what difference did it make?
“I see where you’re coming from,” he replied, putting his thoughts into words. “But so what? The eruption has happened already; we’re not going to achieve anything by speculating over its cause.”
“I know,” Mia replied, now starting to wonder why she’d bothered bringing it up. “It’s just interesting to think about, don’t you agree? Like you said, we study this sort of thing every day and have always said that Yellowstone would never erupt. We’ve just been proven wrong. Don’t you want to get to the bottom of it?”
Slowly an idea started to form in Jorge’s mind. Perhaps Mia was right. If fracking was the cause of all of this, then ultimately, someone was to blame. He loved his work and he enjoyed every day of it, but Jorge knew it was never likely to make him famous. Deep down, that was what he wanted. But, if he could uncover first whether fracking was to blame for everything and then who had allowed it to go ahead, that could change things. The world would want answers and maybe, just maybe, he could be the one to give them to it.
Chapter 4
Walking down to the small village in the distance, Patrick couldn’t get the image of his dead wife out of his head. Harriet. She was so beautiful to him, even in death. He knew normally people didn’t like to see their loved ones after they had died, but for him that had been exactly what he wanted. Prior to finding Harriet on the ground at the end of the parking lot, the last memory he had had of her was watching her being swept away through the broken window. She’d ventured into the dangerous and swirling lahars in the airport lobby in a desperate attempt to save their other daughter, Tilly, not knowing how badly her actions would go.
In fact, even though he had just laid Harriet’s body to rest in a way, Patrick still replayed that scene over and over again in his head as he walked. Allie’s hand was clutched firmly in his, just like it had been as they’d clung to the luggage rails above the water in the lobby. He didn’t want to ever let her go again. The four of them hadn’t been together when everything happened and as a result, he had lost two of his three girls. There was no chance he was ever going to lose Allie as well.
When the water had smashed through the windows, the force of it had taken everyone by surprise. Tilly’s feet were swept out from underneath her, knocking her small body to the ground and away from the group in an instant. Without even hesitating, Harriet had gone after her. One look from his wife and Patrick knew he couldn’t go as well. They had twin daughters and both of them needed protecting. Acting on instinct, Patrick hauled Allie’s body up onto the luggage rail as quickly as he could, joining his daughter as they watched the lahars take control of the airport lobby.
The water moved so quickly and so forcefully it was incredible to watch. Incredible, he remembered, but deadly too. As soon as he and Allie were safely lying across the rails, his eyes had scanned the building for his wife and second daughter, finding them in seconds.
They were precariously balanced on one of the many sets of chairs scattered throughout the lobby. The ones thousands of people sat in over the years, watching the departure boards and waiting for their flight to be called. It didn’t look safe. The water level continued to rise around them as more and more of it flooded in through the open window, turning the lobby into more of a harbor than a departure lounge. Harriet locked eyes with her husband across the room, the two of them sharing a look of fear and understanding, both promising to protect their daughters to the very best of their abilities.
Patrick would hear Tilly’s scream in his head for years to come. He would watch the moment when she misplaced her right foot and slipped into the water below over and over in his nightmares. It was there every time he closed his eyes, haunting him. His daughter, ripped out of Harriet’s arms and ferried toward the window on the other side of the lobby. The sound her body made as it crashed into it was so loud it could be happening right next to him. It was all Patrick focused on. It was all he was able to see. That, and his wife diving straight into the water behind her.
The sensation of Allie’s hand in his own as they walked grounded Patrick. He took a deep breath and forced himself not to replay the moment any further. He knew what happened next and he didn’t want to see it again. He still had Allie, and he knew he had to focus all of his energy on keeping her safe now.
“How are you doing, sweetheart?” Patrick questioned his daughter, earning nothing more than a squeeze of the hand from his eight-year-old He didn’t expect her to reply. What should a girl of her age say after something like this had happened? She was intelligent for her age—both Allie and Tilly had been—but this was something else. This was more than any child should ever have to experience.
Allie had never spent more than three days without Tilly by her side. They had been born just minutes apart, Allie chasing Tilly down and arriving just four minutes later. The hospital had said it was one of the quickest twin births they’d seen all year. Ever since their very first second, Allie and Tilly had been inseparable.
Patrick had always wondered what it would be like to have a twin. The connection between them was unmistakable from a young age. If one of them was sad or hungry or wanted something, you could be certain the other one wanted it too. It was like, at times, that their minds worked as one. The fact that they were identical potentially helped with that, every aspect of their lives exactly the same as the other’s.
Looking down at his daughter, Patrick knew that Allie must feel like she’d lost a part of herself. When Tilly was tired, Allie was tired. When Tilly had a stomachache, Allie had a stomachache. Even when Tilly fell from the jungle gym at school and twisted her wrist, Allie woke up in the night and complained of pain in the exact same place.
Now Tilly was dead. A lump formed in Patrick’s throat when he thought about it. He wasn’t about to wonder which of them felt worse, but he knew and understood the pain Allie had to be feeling. If she didn’t want to talk about it now, that was fine, but he would be there for her the very second that she did.
Focusing more on their surroundings in an attempt to keep his mind occupied, Patrick surveyed the landscape and the small village they were approaching. Michael was walking not that far ahead of him, the man eager to get down there. In an attempt to save his sanity, Patrick sped up slightly, pulling Allie alongside him so he could try and start up a conversation with his fellow man.
“You live down there, huh?”
Hearing it out loud, Patrick realized what an insensitive way to start a conversation that was. He regretted it immediately, seeing the look of worry in Michael’s eyes as he turned to look at him and nod.
“I’m sorry.” Patrick stumbled over his words now, trying to choose them carefully. “I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I, err, are you all right, man?”
“Yeah,” Michael replied with a shrug. “I’m just worried about my family.”
“I get that,” Patrick nodded. “Who’ve you got down there?”
Without turning his head this time, Michael replied, trying to keep the emotion that was eating him up inside out of his voice. “My mom,” his voice was barely above a whisper. “My kids don’t live here anymore. First time I’ve ever be
en thankful for that.”
“You’ve got kids?” Patrick couldn’t help but sound surprised. He didn’t know Michael at all, but from what he’d experienced he hadn’t pegged him for a family man. “How old are they?”
“Eleven and nine now.” A smile crossed Michael’s face as he thought of them, showing the love that only a father could feel. “My ex moved away with them almost five years ago now though. She always hated this place. I just couldn’t leave Mom. She’s not very healthy and so normally either Angie or I stay home with her and work alternate shifts. Yesterday was the first time we’ve both had to work in months. Figures.”
Patrick was quiet. He had just learned more about Michael in that one sentence than he had over the past forty-eight hours with the man. It was always surprising how a disaster made people suddenly so willing to open up. “So, is Angelica your sister then?”
“Half, technically,” Michael replied. “Same mom, different dads, but neither of them were around for very long. Mine died and then hers ran off. Disgraceful. I know I’m not with my missus anymore, but that was a mutual decision. I would never just run off and leave my kids behind. Kills me not seeing them every day.”
“I know that feeling,” Patrick replied, giving Allie’s hand another gentle squeeze in his own. He couldn’t tell whether she was listening or off in her own world; either way he wanted her to know how much he cared.
“Aw, man,” Michael suddenly slowed and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m sorry man, totally slipped my mind about—you know. How are you doing?”
