Jenna moved files aside and sat down beside him, "At least they know we’re here. Maybe they'll come back for us."
Tim dropped his eyes and fiddled with the button on his blood stained shirt. "Jenna, I don't know. We're not the only ones stuck in these buildings and that's the first chopper we heard. Where are the news choppers? And why didn't this one take a closer look at the other buildings. I don't know, Jenna. Something's not right."
"Was it blue?" Seely asked.
"Uh huh. Why?"
Seely lifted the radio off her lap. "Collin was talking about that chopper this morning. You're right, there's something odd about this one. Did it look like it had guns underneath?"
"Guns? No, not guns, more like cameras. Hey, maybe I'll make the five o'clock news. Who knows, maybe it's a Canadian television station. Then again, maybe not." Tim paused, and then quickly glanced at each woman before he continued. "You know, there is a bank on the first floor of this building. You don't suppose…"
Once more, the earth shifted. Jenna screamed and nearly fell over Seely getting back into the bathroom foyer.
At KMPR, Collin instantly scooted his stool away from the console and headed for the door. Max was already there.
On the tree lined lane leading away from the clubhouse, Sam found a new tree, quickly grabbed hold and watched for fissures.
Once more the world seemed to be coming apart. This, the second largest aftershock measured 7.1 and sent its rolling thunder at lightning speed in all conceivable directions. The land renewed its rumbling, its giant heaves and its waves of horror.
*
North of downtown Seattle, longtime friends and a closely knit network of Ham Radio Operators darted outside or ran for the nearest cover, and then waited for the earth to stop shaking. Each suffered their own constant terror, waiting and watching until it was safe to go back to their duties. Yet, voices quivered and hands trembled.
"W7HEU, this is net control, how do you read?"
"Loud and clear, over."
"HEU, did the fissure close?"
"Negative. We count twenty-six adults, seven children and we've got a motorcycle cop down there in bad shape. W7HEU, over."
"Has help arrived?"
"Affirmative. Half the Husky Football Team is here. We've got a few ropes and one harness. Two of the guys are mountain climbers and were thinking about going down. Thing is, that aftershock scared us. The fissure did move some. One more like that and I think it might close. W7HEU, over."
"A7AQ, emergency."
"AQ, go ahead."
"Net control, this is A7AQ. The I-5 interchange at 244th SW in Mountlake Terrace just collapsed. There must have been a hundred cars stuck on the off ramps. Are the phones still down? Has anyone been able to reach emergency services? Can anybody help? People are dying here, over."
*
At KMPR, there was little left to fall except the southern half of the roof. During the aftershock, Max kept a watchful eye on it, but it didn't fall. Nearly all the plasterboard was gone off the walls leaving exposed two by four's and torn pink insulation. Hanging off a nail in the wall just above Collin's console, a calendar swayed. When it stopped, Max rubbed his face with his hands, took several deep breaths and eased back into the studio.
Once more, he carefully tested the sturdiness of the floor, and then he took a long hard look at the outer walls. At length, he walked across the room, turned and looked up. Only a small portion of the northern roof remained and above that, he could see the round, shiny rim of a satellite dish. "I don't believe it."
"What?" Collin asked.
"The dish is still there."
"You've got a satellite dish? Why'd you have me see about the towers then?"
Max walked into the control room, sat down and started checking switches. "There's an Amateur Radio repeater on that tower. By the way, I think we're still on the air."
Collin hurried in, picked up his toppled stool, sat down, and set his mike upright. "Okay folks, we've had another big aftershock and we need another check. If you are on Queen Anne and you can hear us, honk." Less than a block away, two car horns sounded. Collin smiled.
While Collin repeated instructions for turning off the gas, saving water, avoiding power lines and finding a safe place outside to spend the night, Max slipped down the stairs to his apartment. This time the door was stuck. He stepped back and examined the placement. In the last aftershock, the doorframe twisted. He pulled out his wallet, withdrew a credit card, turned the knob and slipped the card between the lock and frame. Careful not to re-injure his foot, he stepped back and kicked with his good foot. The door opened.
In the dining room, he took a moment to pick up broken pieces of Candy's cherished antique teapot, an heirloom from her mother. He cleared a place and carefully set them on the table. Max unplugged his Amateur Radio and pulled a bottom drawer out in the adjoining kitchen. He grabbed six batteries and then paused to stare up at the cracked and broken ceiling. "I bought her everything I could think of. Why didn't I buy her a hand-held?"
A few minutes later, while Max was setting up his Amateur Radio on Collin's console, James and Heather were still in Yakima, seated in the pickup truck with two bags of groceries, extra clothing and four gallons of water in the back. On the passenger side, Heather scooted down, and then propped her feet up on the dashboard. "Mom and Dad are gonna kill us for this."
James backed out of the driveway, shifted to first gear and headed north on Interstate 82, which would take them to Interstate 90 and west to Seattle. "We can only die once. Besides, we left a message at their hotel and Dad knows how to reach us on the radio."
"And when he does, he's gonna lose his Ham license for the language he'll use." Heather switched on the truck radio and turned the dial to KMPR.
*
"This is Collin Slater in Seattle. We've had a major earthquake and we need all the help we can get. What we don't have right now is incoming information. We're just two guys in a radio station with no phones, two backup generators, a lot of damage and only four cigarettes left. We need help world. We need help bad."
Back upstairs, Max finished loading batteries in the Ham Radio, and then he buried his face in his hands and shook his head. "Get a grip Collin. You need to give up smoking anyway, man."
"You want me to give up smoking now, in the middle of a disaster? I may be addicted, but you're crazy. I get mean when I don't smoke. Trust me, Max, you don't want me to give it up."
Max snickered and flipped the switch on the Amateur radio. He tuned the dial until he located his net's Magnolia/Queen Anne frequency, and then spoke into the mike, "W7LGF."
It was a woman who answered his call, "W7LGF, this is net control, stand by. BB, go ahead."
"A7BB, the Magnolia Bridge is down. I repeat, the west end of the Magnolia Bridge is twisted sideways and there's a sixty-foot drop. Traffic is backed up in both directions. We have heavy damage to the houses on both the east and south hillside area, but no report of injuries yet. Anybody know if we had a tidal wave? Over."
The Net Controller for Magnolia and Queen Anne was the only woman on this particular network of Hams. More experienced than most men and well known for keeping her cool, Sarah had a rich, flowing voice, a southern accent, and a calm manner. Her microphone system was voice activated, which sometimes was a nuisance since it often interpreted a noise for a voice. Yet, it gave Sarah free hands to take notes and in this case, it was invaluable, "Copy A7BB. Magnolia Bridge out and heavy damage to houses. No word of a tidal wave, but only three Hams have checked in on this net…four now, counting Max. W7LGF, go ahead."
"W7LGF, we've got the station back up. Mind if we listen in?"
"LGF, not at all. Good to have you aboard Max, over."
"W7LGF, thanks Sarah. Are you okay? Over."
Sarah glanced around her tiny duplex apartment. A wide crack ran down the middle of the hardwood floor in her living room. Half the ceiling sagged at one end; a large aquarium broke, spilling gallons of water across the room, and w
ho knew where the fish were. Prized possessions littered the floor, but Sarah's backup generator worked, she was unharmed and her wheelchair wasn't broken. Her green eyes sparkled amid tousled dark hair and when she smiled, deep dimples appeared in her cheeks, "Lost my ramp, but this old house held better than I expected. Over."
"You'll let us know if you need help, right?"
"Roger handsome. LGF, national news says we've been hit by an earthquake measuring 9.1 and centered under downtown Seattle. That first aftershock was 8.6. The last one measured 7.1 LGF, stand by. Net Control to A7BB."
"A7BB, go ahead."
"BB, can you see downtown Seattle?"
"This is A7BB. Let me walk across the park and take a look." A normally good-natured young man, Jim Sarasosa had dark hair and brown eyes. He was twenty-eight, unmarried and a native of Seattle. A College graduate and full time teacher, he currently attended a summer course at the University of Washington. Now, next week's finals would be canceled.
Cautiously, A7BB walked closer to the edge of the park. Magnolia's land mass jutted out high above the Bay offering a panoramic view of the City, Harbor Island, several islands, the Olympic Peninsula and West Seattle -- opposite where Sam Taylor often sat on the pier.
While they waited for A7BB to report, Collin took two heavy breaths and stared at his trembling hands. "Nine point one. Wow, that's almost as big as the Alaska Quake and we've got a lot more people in a lot more buildings."
Finally, A7BB's voice came back on the Ham Radio.
"BB, this is net control, go ahead."
"A7BB, the fire downtown is pretty big now. Probably five or six city blocks. I've only heard one siren since the quake. It stopped after that first aftershock. I'm almost to the edge of the park now. Holy Cow."
"BB, What?"
Stunned, Jim Sarasosa forgot to say his call signs. "Sarah, the city is ... there's some sort of split in the city. Some of the buildings are tilted and some are clearly gone."
"BB, are there any more fires? Over."
"A7BB, small ones but not right downtown. I can see a fairly large one in West Seattle and more smoke in the South, behind the.... Good grief, I think the Kingdome fell, and I can't see the Alaskan Freeway. We must have had a tidal wave, the waterfront is gone."
*
At the news over her transistor radio, Seely's heart sank. "This can't be happening."
"I wish it weren't," Jenna said.
Tim slumped his shoulders even more and slowly shook his head. "Who would have guessed it? An earthquake, sure…a little one, but this big? I mean, the whole waterfront gone?" Abruptly, he got to his feet and started down the hall. "I'm gonna go see. The waterfront can't be gone."
Seely immediately protested, "Timmy, the water front is straight down. You can't go that close to the windows, you'll fall out."
The farther away he got the more muffled his voice sounded. "Won't fall out. Falling doesn't run in the family."
Jenna raised her eyebrows, got up and hurried after him. "I wanna see too. I think I smell the smoke."
Seely watched until Jenna was out of sight, and then leaned her head back against the insulation. "Even if the fire is headed our way, we're stuck up here." When she tried to shift her position, she winced. "I'll bet the bruise on my rear end is the biggest one in Seattle." She eased her weight more on her left side, closed her eyes and went back to listening to the radio.
*
Sam Taylor was listening too. City block after city block still lay between him and Max. But this block was deserted. Tired, he paused to sit down on a large rock. The house behind him hardly looked damaged except for broken windows. The one next door was missing the front wall and would probably never be repaired. He removed his shoe, dumped dirt out and put it back on. Hair trapped under his earphone made his ear itch, so he removed his cap, set it on the rock, shoved his head set back and gave his ear a good rubbing.
Only then did he hear the church bells. Connected to the church organ, the bells played, "In the sweet bye and bye." Sam grinned, got up and followed the sound. Behind him on the rock sat his red golf cap.
He'd gone half a block before he remembered it. Sam stopped, turned and looked back. Behind him, a little eight-year old, African American girl followed with the cap cock-eyed on her head. Sam waited until she caught up. "Mighty fine cap you got there, little girl."
"I know. Found it on a rock. And I ain't no little girl. I'm in the third grade."
"I see. Where are your parents?"
"At the church. Darn near everybody's at the church, Mister. You go'n to the church?"
"I thought I might. My name's Sam, what's yours?"
"Ashley."
"Well, Ashley, do you think you can show me where the church is?"
The little girl grinned, slipped her hand into Sam's and pulled him on down the street. "Come on Sam. We gots everything at the church. Pastor Kirby, he said 'get ready' and ready we gots. We gots water, food, blankets and..."
"Get ready for what?"
"The earthquake, course." Her big brown eyes filled with wonder, Ashley suddenly stopped and looked up at Sam. "Haven't you heard? God's Prophet Daniel called up on the phone. He called to warn Mister Collin Slater at KMPR."
Just above Sam's nose, two straight up and down wrinkles appeared in his forehead, and his eyebrows pulled closer together. "I see. And you believed this Prophet?"
Ashley tugged on Sam's hand again and started off down the cracked and broken pavement. "Pastor Kirby did. Last Sunday, Pastor Kirby said 'get ready' and ready we gots. We brung everything to the church; blankets, food, diapers for the babies, dried milk, water and candy just in case. And sure enough, we had an earthquake. When God calls on the phone, we best be listening!"
Sam looked up and searched the sky with his eyes. He shrugged and followed the little girl to the church.
*
In the pickup truck, the Amateur Radio sat unused on the seat between Heather and her brother. Instead, they listened to KMPR on the truck radio. But with only four Hams checking in on Sarah's net, Heather soon got bored. Mischievously, she glanced at James, and then slipped her hand close enough to turn the dial on the Amateur Radio. As soon as she found what she thought was the right frequency, she quickly flipped the truck radio off and the Amateur Radio on. The dial was set perfectly and the transmission from the north end of Seattle came in loud and clear. Heather ignored her brother's look of disdain.
"UES, this is Mountlake Terrace net control. Your transmission is weak, try again, over."
"N7UES, we've got severe damage at Roosevelt Hospital. The west wing collapsed. We have twenty-three dead so far, at least a hundred injured and more walking in. Roads are buckled. We desperately need blood donors. Elevators are stuck and only one backup generator is functional. Requesting all medical personnel come immediately. It’s bad here, Dave, really bad. Over."
"N7UES, copy. Anybody been able to reach the Red Cross?"
"KB7C"
"KB, go ahead."
"KB7C, Tulalip Indian Reservation here. We have moderate damage, no deaths and only minor injuries so far. We can spare 26 units of blood if you can find a way to get it there. Over."
"WV7GRM."
"GRM, go ahead."
"WV7GRM, this is Whidbey Island. We've got another 30 units and should have a chopper airborne in five to ten minutes. Red Cross reports staffing problems. We have requests from six other hospitals. Happy to pick up, Tulalip. Can you spare any medical personnel?"
"WV7GRM, this is KB7C, I'll check and get back to you. Out."
*
In the conference room, Tim picked up a five-foot cork bulletin board and dumped the rubbish off. With a careful eye, he surveyed the damage to the room, and then placed the corkboard on top of the broken glass on the floor. Next, he got on his knees, crawled onto the board and lay down. With his hands and the tips of his feet, he scooted the board closer to the edge of the vacant window.
Standing behind him, Jenna was afraid to breath
e, "Maybe we should wait until after the next aftershock."
"Could be another hour or so, who knows? Grab my leg will you? And don't let go." Careful to avoid jagged glass still in the frame, he eased his head over the thin windowsill. For several breathtaking moments, he scanned the damage far below. He scooted back, got to his knees and hurried to the safety of the inner room.
"What?"
"The waterfront's gone all right. It sunk. Come on, I wanna see the other side." Tim lifted the corkboard and hauled it through the door. When he reached the elevator hallway, he turned left. Another corridor led to the plush executive offices on the northern side of the forty-third floor, some with worse damage than others. Cautiously, he chose a middle office and just as before moved rubbish out of the way, put the board down and climbed on.
And again, Jenna held on to his leg, "Tell me what you see."
"Well, I can see the fire. It's a lot bigger than I thought. Looks like it’s the television stations. No wonder we haven't heard any news choppers. The smoke is drifting out over the water, so maybe the fire won't spread this way. I can see people in the street and…wait, where's the Grand Rainier Hotel?" Boldly, he moved a little farther forward. "Jenna, the bus tunnel collapsed. Some of the buildings are leaning." Hurriedly, he pulled himself back inside, grabbed the board and stumbled over the rubbish toward the corridor.
"Where are you going?"
Tim didn't answer. Instead, he turned down yet another walkway. This one was filled with multiple filing cabinets, each toppled and spilled, making the hallway impassable. "Take a memo Jenna. From now on, no filing cabinets or furniture of any kind allowed in the hallways. Sheesh!"
Jenna giggled and quickly followed him in another direction. Soon, he'd led the way to an outer office facing west. Again, he moved debris, climbed atop the corkboard and inched his way forward until his head stuck out over the edge of the building. And once more, Jenna grabbed hold of his leg.
CHAPTER 12
By the time Sam and Ashley arrived, the damaged church was filled to overflowing. Inside, a man stood near the altar and sang the last few lines of, "In the sweet bye and bye, we shall meet on that glorious shore..." Not one eye was void of tears. Then Pastor Kerby offered a prayer for the dead and dismissed his congregation. Sam slipped a hundred dollar bill into the preacher's hand, glanced one last time at the golf cap still on Ashley's head and slipped away. More than a hundred blocks and a waterway yet separated him from his son. He adjusted his earphones and continued on.
Seattle Quake 9.2 (A Jackie Harlan Mystery Book 1) Page 13
