"I give up," James sighed. He moved the dial and listened, but the chatter was not about the earthquake. He moved the dial again. This time he located a frequency occupied by Hams in the south end of Seattle.
A man's voice came in loud and clear, "Any Hams in the Fife area? I repeat, do we have any Hams in the Fife Area?"
Heather sprang off the bed and started scanning the map. Fife...Fife...there? It's down by Tacoma."
"KP7J."
"KP, go ahead."
"KP7J, we have heavy damage in Fife. There is a strong smell of gas in the area of 21st street and 356th. We have fire in the shopping center on Military Road and a report of a multiple injury accident on Highway 99. Fire station..."
Once more the mechanical voice came on the air. "Time out. Wait." And again, there was a silent void. At last the mechanical voice came back on, "Repeater time out."
"N7XRG, can you turn the timer off? Over."
"N7XRG, will do."
Heather cocked her head to one side and studied her brother's face. "You said the repeaters were on mountains or tall buildings. How can they turn it off?"
"Easy, they punch buttons on their hand-held and send a message to the repeater."
"Oh."
"KP, what about fire station six? Over."
"KP7J, fire station six suffered moderate damage, but part of the roof caved in on engine number one. Engine two is headed for the fire."
"B7XRG, timer's off."
"Thanks XRG. KP, have you been to city hall? Over."
"Negative. My assigned duty is to check the schools. But I can head to city hall if you want. KP7J. Over."
"Net control to all operators. There shouldn't be anyone at the schools. Let's delay the schools. KP7J, it'll be a while before the command center is staffed at City Hall. You're the only one checking in from Fife. Head for the fire, over."
"AZ7BLB emergency."
"BLB, go ahead."
"AZ7BLB we've got an orange cloud forming just east of I-5 and 277th in Auburn. Looks like it's coming from the industrial park. Might be Nitric Acid. Advise evacuation of the area immediately. The cloud is low to the ground and moving northeast. It's headed for the freeway, over."
"Okay, BLB. All stations, anyone got phone service? Can anyone call Auburn fire or police? Over." The lady net controller waited for an answer. None came. "Looks like all phones are out. BLB, can you get to the fire station? Over."
"KR7V."
"KR, go ahead."
"I'm about half a mile from fire station 12 in Edgewood. If I can get to them, maybe they can reach Auburn Fire and Rescue, KR7V, over."
"Copy that KR, go. BLB, what's traffic like on I-5? Over."
"NZ7BLB, bumper to bumper and stopped. Must be a buckle somewhere."
James hadn't noticed the sadness in his sister's eyes until she stood up, walked to him and tapped his shoulder. "What Heather?"
"Is Tacoma close to Portland?"
"No, Portland's a long way south of there." He used his pencil and pointed to the bottom of the map. "Portland's way down here, see? Mom and Dad probably didn't even feel the earthquake." With that, he turned his attention back to the radio.
"...anybody got a CB? Over."
"WD7PRM."
"PRM, go ahead."
"WD7PRM, I've got a CB, over."
"WD7PRM this is AZ7BLB. I can see three tanker trucks in the danger zone. Tell them to blast their horns, over."
"Copy that AZ7BLB."
"This is Net Control, all operators stand by."
In the small rural community of Auburn, Washington, the frightening silence left by the quake was interrupted by one short and two long blasts from an eighteen-wheeler. Another added his horn, and another until the people, involuntarily parked on the I-5 freeway, turned to look. Standing on the hood of a tanker truck, a man held both his arms out, pointing toward the orange cloud.
"WD7PRM. It worked! The people are evacuating, over."
"Glad to hear it. AZ7BLB, out."
"W7GF."
"GF, go ahead."
"W7GF, Portland radio station reports two quakes centered under downtown Seattle. The first was a 9.1 and the other an 8.6. I repeat two quakes, over."
Net Control was silent for a long moment. "We could have told 'em that."
In Yakima, James abruptly turned the volume down and listened. Outside, the air was filling with sound. Quickly, he went to the open window and leaned out. He searched the sky with his eyes, and then watched as seven emergency rescue choppers lifted off from Yakima's Military Training Center. "There they go. I'm gonna do that someday."
"Yes, if you can pass the eleventh grade."
He glared at his sister and went back to his desk. "I'll get there, you just watch." He turned the volume back up and defiantly straightened his shoulders.
"NJ7E, emergency."
"NJ, go ahead."
"NJ7E, the earthquake set off an explosion and we've got black smoke rising fast. The fire is spreading south…we've just had another explosion…there goes another one straight down Parkland Avenue. Must be a gas line. Dear God in Heaven, it's headed for South Center..."
James lowered his eyes and bowed his head. "Mom's favorite shopping center. I bet there's ten thousand people there on Saturdays, maybe twenty." For a long moment, he remained shrouded in gloom. Suddenly, his eyes lit up. "The radio station. Maybe Max is on the air. Maybe that's why I can't reach him. Heather, go get the radio out of Mom's room."
*
At the same time Heather brought her mother's radio to James and Max got power back on to both his and Collin's consoles, Tim found the transistor Radio in Seely's earthquake kit on the forty-third floor of the Winningham Blue. "Oh cool. I get the radio."
Seely narrowed her eyes, tightened her lips and took it out of his hand. "Let me tell you something, young man. The radio is mine. I bought it, I made sure it had batteries and it stays with me."
"Okay. But can I hold it a little while? Where are the batteries? I wonder if the stations are back up? Does the whole world know what's happened here yet? Where…"
Seely rolled her eyes, handed him the radio and fished out the first package of 9-volt batteries. She watched him quickly load one, close the plastic cover and begin turning the dial.
*
At KMPR, Collin cleared his throat and leaned closer to his mike. "This is KMPR, 760 AM, located on top of Queen Anne Hill. Seattle has suffered a catastrophic earthquake. We can see a huge fire downtown and several smaller ones in the suburbs. We also have fires in West Seattle and on the Peninsula across Elliott Bay. On the south side of Queen Ann Hill, buildings are in ruins. Others are leaning and with the aftershocks coming so often, who knows how long they'll hold up. People are stunned. They try to help dig for survivors, but most of us don't even own shovels. North of the station, it looks like the hill just slid away. Across the street, a six-story apartment building collapsed. The last time I looked, there were three bodies."
Collin stopped. He took a long breath, slowly let it out and closed his eyes. "Beth, if you can hear me, Max and I are alright. Stay where you are, Babe. Don't try to come through downtown."
Busy making corrections in what was left of the control room, Max only took a mental note when Collin stopped talking. He glanced into the studio, adjusted another dial, and then turned to stare. Collin was biting his lower lip hard. Max grabbed for his hanging mike, but along with the rest of the ceiling it was gone and he found himself waving his hand in thin air. Chagrined, he rubbed his forehead a moment, and then leaned through the broken window, "Tell them to honk."
"What?"
"We don't know if we're on the air, man. Say…if you're on Queen Anne Hill and you can hear us, honk your car horn."
"Oh, okay folks. If you are on Queen Ann Hill and you can hear us, honk your car horn." Collin waited. Outside, men were yelling, women cried and dogs barked, but no horns sounded. It was faint, but at last he heard someone honk. "This is KMPR, 760 AM. Do it again. If you're on Queen Anne and you c
an hear the sound of my voice, honk your horn three times." Again he waited. This time the faint horn sounded immediately. Honk…honk…honk. "Right on!" Collin shouted.
Downstairs, the Ham Radio once more came to life. "W7LGF this is KB7HDX. Max, you're up, you're on the air. Can you hear me Max?" James narrowed his eyes and glared at the radio. "Heather, go pack some food."
"Why?"
"Because we're going to Seattle."
*
Sam's Club House was completely unrecognizable. Built in 1932 of brick and mortar, it easily succumbed to the earthquake and following aftershocks, progressively crumbling where it stood. He climbed the last green knoll on the edge of the golf course, crossed the broken sidewalk and started into the deserted parking lot. Just then, he saw a man raise the butt of a twenty-two rifle and break the window out of a Mercedes Benz. Yanking the door open, the man leaned in and bent down. A second later, the blasting car alarm stopped. The intruder helped himself to a CD player and fled into the forest.
"At least he got rid of that annoying alarm." Sam turned his attention to the oddly deserted, collapsed building. Amid the ruins, a lone woman tossed crumbled brick and rotting lumber aside. Cautiously, he drew nearer. "How many?"
"How many what?" the woman snapped.
Sam instantly reeled back, "How many still in the building?"
The tall, painfully thin woman paused in her work just long enough to glare at him, her brown eyes flashing with fury. "None! They all got out between the quakes."
"Well then, why do you dig?"
"My keys are in there. How am I to drive home without my keys?"
Sam watched her toss two more broken bricks away, and then grab hold of a two by four and try to wedge it free. Carefully, he stepped into the rubble and drew close enough to take the woman's arm. "My dear, it is best to walk. If the streets are serviceable at all, they'll be jammed with traffic."
At first, the woman tried to pull her arm free, her angry eyes boring into his. But at length, the words he spoke rang true. Suddenly, she threw her arms around his neck and began to weep uncontrollably. "My kids. I left them with a sitter. I..."
"There, there now, don't cry. I'm sure they're just fine." He held her a while longer and then tenderly pulled her away. "We've only a few hours of daylight left. How far away are your children?"
"A couple of miles, I guess."
"Good. You've plenty of time to walk it before dark." He took her hand and helped her climb out of the rubble. She hugged him once more, and then was off -- hurrying past the parked cars and up the lane to the road. Then, something peculiar caught Sam's attention. He felt a gentle breeze against his face. "Wind? I hadn't noticed it missing. Feels good, Lord."
Sam walked to his car, opened the door and sat down. He glanced around looking for the guy with the twenty-two, and was relieved that he was nowhere in sight. He reached in his glove box and removed an old canteen. Unscrewing the lid, he gently pulled on a string until one-by-one, small rolls of cash came free of the rim. Stuffing them in his pocket, he looped the long canteen string around his neck and closed the glove box. Next, he grabbed his transistor radio off the seat, removed his cap, and mounted the small earphone set on his head. Collin was on the air, giving earthquake survival instructions.
Sam smiled. "Max must be all right, then. Thank you, Lord." He put his transistor in his pocket and pulled his red cap back on. Then he locked his car and headed in the same direction as the woman – down the tree-lined lane toward the grid of streets and avenues leading to Seattle.
CHAPTER 11
On the forty-third floor, Tim finally looked human again. Seely too noticed the wind, a soft gentle breeze at first barely ruffling the loose paper. Then it grew stronger. She sat down on the door with her back against exposed rafters and insulation, closed her eyes and basked in the feeling of it hitting her face. Her heart no longer hurt and her drug-induced headache was beginning to let up, "I think I'm feeling better."
"Good." Jenna said. "You look better."
Tim turned the radio off and handed it to Seely "I say we go have a look around. We can see more from up here than they can tell us on the radio."
"Be careful, okay."
Jenna glanced from Seely to Tim and back to Seely again. "Is it okay if I go too?"
Seely giggled, "Sugar, you don't need my permission."
"I know, but will you be alright?"
"Sure I will. Go."
Suddenly, Jenna looked disturbed. She leaned her head to one side and listened. "What is that?"
"What?"
"That noise? That thudding noise?"
Tim focused on the sound, holding his breath until he recognized it. His eyes then lit up, "Chopper!" In a flash, he was stumbling through the rubbish in the hall. By the time he turned down the corridor and passed the six elevators, the noise of the chopper was overwhelming. Cautiously, he made his way into the conference room until he finally spotted it. The huge blue chopper with bulging eyes, a bubble face and a slit for a mouth slowly descended until it hovered directly opposite the conference room. With Jenna right behind him, Tim inched closer to the middle of the room and waved his arms, but if the pilot saw him from behind the tinted windows, he gave no indication. Instead, the chopper tipped slightly upward and held its position. Just as it appeared, it slowly lifted above the top floor, sharply banked right and was gone.
As soon as the noise dissipated, Tim took one more cautious step toward the outside edge of the building, "Jenna look!"
"What?"
"We can see the water."
"So?"
"So where's the Federal Building?"
Jenna felt sick. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and backed away.
*
Jackie asked Carl to move the chopper back to its original position over West Seattle where all three cameras were at a better advantage. She adjusted the focus on each, and then went back to her conversation with Michael, "Well, at least she's not alone."
Michael took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Comparatively, the small, compact mobile home suffered only minor damage – not counting broken windows, spilled cupboards and an upset coffee pot. He put his glasses back on and turned his attention to the middle monitor, "I ran a quick picture comparison through the company's personnel records. Both of them are co-workers and neither have any medical training."
"Oh Michael, what are we going to do?"
"We're out of our league here. I suggest we call someone."
"Good idea. See if you can find…let's see. I know, call fire and rescue in LA. They're experts in earthquakes."
"Okay."
"No wait, they might notify the press." Jackie sighed and tried to rack her brain. "Hey, let's call Colonel Shafer at the Pentagon. He's an engineer and he owes us a favor."
"Got it. By the way, I've picked up a local radio station. And a report just came in with a little history on Loraine Whitcomb. Ready?"
"Shoot."
"Loraine Whitcomb, AKA Eileen Black was arrested for murder in 1968. The case was weak and all charges were dropped. The victim was a twenty-three-year old college student and Eileen Black was one of two roommates. Guess who the other roommate was?"
"Christina?"
"Bingo. Loraine and Jennifer's mother is still alive. She lives in Seattle and is in her seventies."
"The old woman who visits the grave?"
"Could be."
"Michael, how do you get your mother to visit a grave with nobody in it?"
"Maybe somebody is in it."
"Great. That's one I hadn't thought of. Have you found anything on the $10,000.00?"
"Not yet, but who'd be surprised if it leads back to Loraine?"
"I sure wouldn't. So now what have we got? Christina marries well, Jennifer wants Evan and the money so Loraine sets up a revolving fund and convinces Christina to walk away because…"
"Because it was Christina who murdered the roommate?"
Jackie kept her eyes on the heart moni
tor strip at the bottom of the monitor. Seely's heart rate was near normal. "Blackmail?"
"Yes, but why the scars on Christina's wrists?"
"Maybe she needed some heavy duty convincing."
"Michael, we don't have time for this. You call the Colonel and I'll call Evan. It's time I had a little talk with him." Jackie quickly disconnected Michael and dialed Evan Cole's private number.
It seemed like forever before the seat belt sign in the 737 went off and Evan was allowed to turn his cell phone back on. When he did, it was already ringing. "Loraine?"
"No, it's Jackie. Mister Cole, have you ever heard of an Eileen Black?"
His jaw instantly dropped in dismay, "Eileen Black? She was Christina's roommate in college. She murdered Julie Wilcox."
"Did Christina tell you what happened?"
"She couldn't, she wasn't there. That was the weekend I flew her back to meet my parents. Jackie, what's..."
"Loraine Whitcomb and Eileen Black are the same person."
If Jackie was still talking, he didn't hear her. Nor did he hear the roar of the engines, the in-flight television, other passengers talking or a baby crying somewhere in the back of the plane. Instead, he let the phone slide from his ear. He remembered how Loraine stared at Christina's portrait the first time she saw it. He considered the peculiar way the house he shared with Christina burned to the ground, and how Loraine and Jennifer always seemed to be there when he needed comfort most. Finally, he remembered being told what happened in that horrible storm - two cabin cruisers traveling at high speed, one crashing into the other, and then a distress call from Christina's captain – sinking fast! Mayday! Mayday! Finally, there was nothing but a debris field. Both boats and all aboard lost…or so he thought.
Slowly, Evan Cole turned his furious eyes toward the window.
*
Long after the thudding chopper engines dissipated, Tim finally turned and made his way back to Seely. Disappointed, he sat down on the floor and slouched his shoulders, "He saw me, I know he did. But he didn't do anything. I mean the chopper just sat there, and then it flew away." He lightly touched his bandaged forehead, and then ran his hand through his short, red hair.
Seattle Quake 9.2 (A Jackie Harlan Mystery Book 1) Page 12
