Seattle Quake 9.2 (A Jackie Harlan Mystery Book 1)

by Marti Talbott

  A three-foot strip of earth crumbled and slid away from Sam's island. Suddenly, his right hand was dangling in midair. Sam's heart skipped a beat and his mouth dropped open, "I repent, Lord!"

  It was headed straight for Sam's dangling hand. Already belching dirt and water, the threatening fissure quickly shot through the empty pond and started across the sunken, gyrating patchwork of grass.

  *

  In the Winningham Blue Building, only ten seconds had passed since the earthquake roared back to life. Sucking in great gulps of air and tumbling with each sway of the top floors, Seely too cried out, her words mute in the horrendous noise of exploding earth, screaming metal and breaking concrete. "Please, make it stop."

  On Third Avenue forty-three floors below, the reinforced cement ceiling of the buckled and ruptured bus tunnel quickly gave way. Whole sections plunged downward, taking with it electric and telephone cables, water and gas pipes, dirt, pavement, cars -- and people. As well, the ground hastily eroded beneath buildings on both sides of the sudden ravine.

  Across from the Winningham Blue, the thirty-five-story Mainland Tower shifted off its imbedded foundation and tilted toward the sunken street. Caught in its own gigantic swaying motion, the twenty-forth and twenty-fifth floors bulged, straining to hold the structure upright. Suddenly, steel girders snapped at the seams where the twenty-fifth floor joined the twenty-forth. The strained and agitated top ten floors of the Mainland Tower plunged toward the Winningham Blue.

  *

  Wedged in the doorway beside Max, Collin held fast to the top ledge and bent his knees in an effort to absorb the repeated bouncing. In the studio, plaster, glass, fallen pictures, dirt, and equipment rapidly hopped across the floor. The overhead fan dangled by a single wire and again swung violently.

  Then he saw it. Through the open space where the window once was, he watched the six-story apartment building across the street begin to crumble. Bricks broke free of mortar and hurled to the ground, and then the entire face of the building slid away, briefly exposing inside carnage and terrified people huddled in corners. Suddenly, the rest of the building dissipated and crashed to the ground, its noise absorbed by the rumbling earth and all the other ongoing carnage. Behind it, a smaller apartment building buckled and shook, but then the dust storm from the first building rose to obstruct his view.

  Horrified, Collin's heart sank and his mouth dropped open. He watched until the folding, dust filled cloud lifted higher, and then at length, he dropped his eyes. The floor beneath his feet rolled, the walls twisted and the taste of dirt filled his mouth. Even so, he let out a wounded, disturbing whimper, "...Beth."

  *

  Seely was disoriented. The earth still convulsed, the thunderous noise still roared, the building still shook, and steel girders still squealed, but the top floors of the Winningham Blue oddly stopped swaying and now her body bounced instead of sliding. Perplexed, she put aside her pain and deeply wrinkled her brow. She lowered her eyes and concentrated until she was convinced that the violence was decidedly less. Yet, lying on the bathroom floor, high above the fallen Mainland Tower building that was now embedded against the Winningham Blue, the cause for the change escaped her.

  *

  Just in time, Sam Taylor jumped off his golf course island and slid down the side of the newly formed embankment. Less than a foot away, the fissure ripped through the earth, widening as it went. Instinctively, he rolled in the opposite direction, righted himself, and then scrambled toward the trees. His attempt to run on land that moved beneath his feet made his legs look and feel disjointed. Odd patches of green turned in different directions. Beside him, another island jutted five feet higher than his sunken valley. He clawed at the dirt, shoved one foot into the hole, grabbed a hold of the grass, and hoisted himself up.

  Sam wasn't watching when the belching fissure ripped through his deserted island and swallowed his red golf bag. Instead, he sprinted as best he could toward the trees, his heels often sinking into newly displaced earth. As soon as he reached the forest, he lunged for the lower branch of a pine, and then scurried up. When he was high enough, he wrapped his arms around the swaying trunk and held on for dear life.

  Finally, the earth slowed, the ground movement stopped and the bending tree came to a rest. A small white dot sailed past his face, hit a branch and dropped to the ground. Sam narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. There, four feet below him, a golf ball rolled to a stop.

  *

  At last, the vibrations in the Winningham Blue building diminished. Somewhere, glass still tinkled, dust still rose and plaster still fell, but Seely only heard the thud of her own heart beating against her ribs. Crumpled on her side, she was afraid to move. Blood stained her dark hair, her face was the color of ash and her body quivered with fright. For nearly two minutes, she lay in the same cramped position, struggling to quiet her breathing and steady her violated nerves. It was then that she noticed the near total silence – no traffic, no buzz of electrical equipment, no clatter of computer key boards, no whining elevators, no planes, no traffic, no generators and no wind. Only the 'shhhh' of that illusive train and the tedious, bit by bit settling of the now fragile and frail structure, which was the only thing that was keeping her from falling nearly 600 feet to the ground. At length, a new involuntary tear rolled from the corner of her eye and dropped to the floor.

  *

  Jackie made sure Michael was still okay, and then ordered the air crane moved. Carl quickly banked and soared to a new position just south of downtown -- and the three dimensional diagram of the Winningham Blue changed with it. But the heart monitor was flat-lined and the mock image of the woman was gone. Deep in thought, Jackie checked and rechecked the equipment, typing in new commands and over-riding old ones. Still, the mock woman did not appear.

  Slowly, she turned in her swivel chair and looked out the window. The ghostly, windowless building seemed to stare back at her. Pieces of gold trim hung from the windowsills and large chunks of fake blue marble were missing. Beyond it, a new wall of water was pulling away from the shore, leaving live fish flopping on the exposed seabed.

  Just then, Michael's voice came through her earpiece, "Hang on, I'm going to reboot." She watched as all the screens went blank, and then held her breath as one by one, color, images and graphs came back up. The heart monitor remained flat-lined, but at last the mock woman was there – deep within the walls of the building.

  *

  Seely tried to concentrate on saving her own life, but her thoughts were of her family, "My babies…please help my babies." Her eyes filled with more tears and she just let them flow. The vibration caused by the tsunami increased again and she thought she could hear roaring water crash against the lower floors of the building. Alone and afraid, she waited until all was once more quiet, and then cautiously tried to turn her upper torso.

  Her bruised and cut body cried out in pain, yet nothing hurt as much as the cramp in her chest. She stopped moving and waited for it to let up. A minute passed, and then another. When it subsided some, she tried again, turning on her back, and then putting her hands on the floor. Straining, she inched herself up until her back was against the foyer wall and her necklace fell back in place. Seely clutched her left bicep and held on tight. Above, a small piece of paper seesawed through the air and landed in her lap, but she didn’t notice. Seely slowly lifted her shocked and hurting eyes toward heaven, "I am old, let me die." Then faintly, she heard movement in the hallway.

  As abruptly as she had left, Jenna tromped across the fallen door and poked her head back into the foyer. A new set of tears stained her cheeks, a ghastly bruise covered the left half of her forehead and she was furious. "The elevators are broken!"

  Seely opened her arms and allowed her dear friend into her embrace. But as she began stroking Jenna's hair, the crushing pain intensified. Gasping for air, the sound of her own voice seemed weak and somehow foreign, "Jenna,...help me. Heart…attack."

  The younger woman quickly let go and s
at up," What? What can I do?"

  "Find…my purse."

  In a whirl of urgent movement, Jenna shoved rubbish aside and tossed tiles away. Finally, she spotted the thin purse strap. She grabbed it and pulled until the purse came free. She knelt down, unzipped it and dumped the contents on the floor. Finding the small bottle at last, she unscrewed the lid and poured six small tablets into her hand. "How many?"

  "One."

  Jenna poured five back in the bottle, and then held out her hand. She watched Seely get hold of the pill and slip it under her tongue. Then she screwed the lid back on, put the bottle back in the purse and waited. In a little while, the older woman's color started to return and her breathing eased. Still Jenna quietly waited until Seely opened her eyes. "The elevator doors won't open."

  Seely forced a comforting smile, and then struggled to spit out her words, "Jenna, you must not…get in the elevators. It's better to take the stairs."

  "Okay. We'll go down the stairs then."

  "...too soon. Let's rest, okay?"

  "But Seely, we're going to fall. Besides, my Mom and sisters are down there. I have to get home."

  Seely paused to breathe several more times before she spoke, "I know, my family…is down there too." To her relief, the pain in her chest was beginning to ease.

  Jenna stared into Seely's haunting eyes for a long moment, and then she slumped against the opposite wall, "Don't die Seely? If you die, I'll be all alone."

  "I don't think I'm gonna die. Not yet."

  *

  At KMPR, Collin was still braced in the doorway. He watched Max get up, scoot rubbish off the top landing and test the railing. It held. Next, Max eased his weight down on the first stair step. It too held. Meticulously, he tested another, and then another until he stood on the landing outside Collin's apartment.

  He glanced up at Collin, and then turned the knob and pushed the door open. Cautiously, he eased inside. All the windows were gone. Cast iron I-beams stood in each corner of the living room, minus most of their concrete reinforcement. Beth's china hutch lay face down with chips of broken dishes scattered across the floor. Globs of broken cement and plaster, mixed with glass lampshades, pieces of knickknacks and broken light bulbs littered the carpet. Most of the furniture was completely overturned. The ceiling light dangled by one wire and rafters showed.

  Easing his right foot inside, Max felt the sturdiness of the floor. It was safe. "Where is it?" he shouted.

  "What?"

  "The medical kit you bought the other day?"

  "In the closet. Why?"

  Max stuck his head back out the door and looked up. "You're bleeding man."

  Only then did Collin notice the three inch cut on his right arm and the blood dripping off his fingertips. He covered half his face with his other hand and shook his head. "I've never been so scared in my life. Now I see why guys wet their pants." Suddenly, he uncovered his eye and looked down. His blue jeans were dry. Collin puffed his cheeks, let out a long breath and started to chuckle.

  "What's so funny?" Max shouted. But by the time he grabbed the medical kit and started up the steps, Collin had disappeared. When he reached the attic, he paused to look around the demolished studio. Months of hard work lay in ruins and Collin stood in the carnage, less than two feet from the pane-less window.

  Collin inched a little closer and strained to look down. The small park was deserted. Across the street, the four-story apartment building looked less than ten feet high with its black tar roof broken in odd chunks on top. Already, three men and a woman were furiously digging in the rubble. Another man ran down the street screaming the names of his wife and child. Still more people poured out of the identical apartment building next door and Collin could bear no more. He sharply turned and started for the stairs.

  Max quickly grabbed his uninjured arm, "Wait!" Collin's furious eyes bore into his, but Max ignored it, "Let me fix your arm first."

  "To hell with my arm, there are people dying down there."

  "There are people dying all over the city. They need you here, Collin. They need both of us to stay right here."

  "Why? What good does it do to stay here?"

  Max set the medical kit on the rubble, glanced around until he spotted a newspaper, and then quickly swooped down and picked it up. Shaking the dust off, he rolled it up leaving a hollow center, and then he stepped through the carnage to the window. Pointing the newspaper toward the men below, he raised it to his mouth and yelled, "Turn off the gas!"

  The confused men stopped to look his direction. "Turn off the gas," Max repeated. Finally, one of the men waved and started down the street, yelling at others as he went.

  Collin listened to the man's fading voice, and then headed for the medical kit. He knelt on the floor, unhooked the latch and flipped the lid up. "We've gotta get on the air!" Reaching inside the kit, he grabbed a roll of gauze and began wrapping his injured arm.

  *

  In the earth, newly crushed rock settled, and allowed the shelves to slip half a centimeter more, sending forth another aftershock. This time, the ground rumbled instead of exploding and the sound of the rumble carried less than a mile.

  Spreading from the fault line, the first roll took only a second to reach what was left of Sam's golf course. Holding fast to the trunk of the pine, his body tilted back and forth with the movement of the tree, until the waves tapered into gentle rolls and stopped.

  *

  In the studio, both Collin and Max were back in the doorway. In the rapid shaking, more plaster fell and the room again filled with dust. But the shock wave lasted a brief ten seconds and both men soon breathed easier.

  *

  This time, the Winningham Blue didn't sway at all. Just the same, Seely's heart raced and her body trembled long after it stopped. With Jenna right beside her, she listened to the last groans of strained metal, tinkling glass and falling plaster and she waited, but the sound of crashing waves never came. At length, the tiny pill relieved more of her pain and her breathing grew less strained, "Good," she whispered.

  Abruptly furious again, Jenna's eyes turned wild and the muscles in her jaw tightened, "Good? How can you say that?"

  "Calm down, Sugar. I was talking about the pain. It's better."

  "Oh."

  "And, I think the worst is over," Seely said.

  "But the ground keeps moving. What if we fall?"

  "I don't think we'll fall. I think this building is going to hold."

  "You do?"

  Seely didn't answer. Instead she closed her eyes and prayed for the rest of her pain to stop. Her face was smudged with dirt and blood, and the hair on top of her head held a thick layer of plaster dust. It seemed like an eternity but the pain finally let up a little more and her breathing returned to near normal. "I think we're going to survive this, like it or not. Best we get to work."

  But Jenna didn't move, "What sort of work?"

  This time Seely's eyes held a hint of mischief when she answered, "First, we have to see if anyone else is still up here. Then we need to go get the earthquake kit."

  Her whole demeanor rapidly changed and Jenna began to giggle, "You mean the one you and Paul had that awful fight over?"

  "Uh huh."

  "You bought it anyway?"

  "I did. It's not the big one, but it will do." Cautiously, Seely began moving her legs to check for broken bones. They hurt, but they moved and her chest pain didn't come back. "I ended up buying most of it myself." Playfully, she put one hand on her hip, "I hope that old tight wad is alive somewhere and hasn't got a drop of water to drink. And when this is over, I'm going to kick him in the shins."

  "Me too," Jenna giggled.

  Seely brushed the debris off her lap and straightened her blood stained, white blouse. "We have to get to the earthquake kit before dark. We’ve got flashlights, food, medical supplies, and water." She waited for Jenna to get up, and then tried to get to her knees. Every bone in her body signaled its bruised and battered state and her chest hur
t again. Instinctively, she sat back down.

  Jenna's face filled with concern, "I can do it by myself. You rest."

  "Maybe you're right." Seely eased into a more comfortable sitting position and rested her head against the wall.

  "I know, you could lay down on the door." Jenna grabbed the side of the fallen door, groaned as she lifted it, and then leaned it against the wall. Next, she began scooting rubbish out of the way with her feet so she could lay it down flat.

  Just then, the muffled sound of a man's voice filled the hallway, "Help! Is anybody there? Help me!"

  Seely's mouth dropped, "Timmy? I thought he went home."

  In the hallway, loose cables dangled through holes left by missing tiles in the ceiling, broken tiles cluttered the floor and three metal filing cabinets with spilled drawers completely blocked the pathway back to the kitchenette and the large room.

  CHAPTER 7

  As the crow flies, sixteen-year-old James McClurg lived 140 miles southwest of Seattle, in the small town of Yakima, Washington. Between the farmlands of Yakima and the bustling city, lay the Cascade Mountain range and the dormant volcano, Mt. Rainier. He lived with his parents and fourteen-year old sister in a modest, three-bedroom home surrounded by four acres of land. An array of large trees and well-kept gardens gracefully surrounded the house and lined the two-lane driveway.

  Seated in a well-worn easy chair and engrossed in a magazine, James was startled by both the first and the second Seattle earthquake. It was little more than a hard jolt each time, but the foundation of the house creaked and his cat dashed under his bed. With light brown hair and blue eyes, James cautiously got up, walked to his bedroom window and looked toward Mt. Rainier. He saw no rising smoke and no ash filling the hot summer sky. Whatever happened, Mt. Rainier had not erupted -- not yet anyway. He sat back down and returned to his reading.