“We do,” she replied. “Wasn’t big. Looks like it happened six hours ago, at least from our readouts. Nothing major. A two pointer. The town shook a little.”
“So this is the epicenter?” Gene asked.
April nodded.
Susan added, “This didn’t just happen when I called you. It happened hours beforehand, we think. We’ll know more later, FBI is checking transactions from stores. Phone signals. That sort of thing. The town is removed so it was unnoticed at first.”
“Seems everyone knows now,” Gene said. “Did you see the news?”
“The news knows something is up. They just don’t know what. This way.” She waved her hand and walked beyond the van to behind the body shop building.
At first it looked like just a field or farm and then Gene saw it.
Rocks and dirt covered the ground like snow and fifty feet away was a long mound of dirt, at least ten feet high. As if a bulldozer had pushed it.
Gene knew that wasn’t the case.
He ran to the mound and just as he suspected it wasn’t a line, he climbed to the top to see. The massive amount of dirt was a circle that formed around a huge, perfectly round hole in the ground.
The hole had to be at least fifty feet in diameter and more than a hundred feet deep.
“Holy shit.” Nervously, Gene undid the latch on his bag and pulled out a handheld reader. “April,” he called to her, “Did you do readings?”
“We just got here,” she replied. “We just placed sensors.”
Gene nodded and turned on the red gadget. He extended the small wand, moved it around. His eyes stay transfixed on the meter readings.
“Anything?” Susan asked.
Gene shook his head. “Let me try something else.” He made a knob adjustment and his eyes widened. Hurriedly, he slid down the mound and held the wand outward. He walked around further back, taking readings as far back as the body shop. Then he returned to the crater in the ground and the dirt there.
Crouching down, he did one more reading, then stood and took off his mask.
“Gene?” Susan asked in shock. “What are you doing?”
“It’s fine. It’s safe now. It’s definitely not biological,” Gene said. “It’s methane.”
<><><><>
Fort Collins, CO
When Tom Foster said he didn’t travel much, he wasn’t kidding. More so, he just didn’t fly. In fact, the last time he flew he was young and they still served food on the plane, and if he remembered correctly, his father made them sit in the ‘smoking’ section.
Flying just wasn’t his thing. He didn’t place taking family vacations under the category of travel. Mainly because they drove to their destination and the places they did go to were cheap and close.
Tom was never a rich man. He worked hard his entire life, he made good money, but by the time he really achieved that level of income where he could save some money, his wife met someone else and left him. That was about the same time his youngest son, Gabe, discovered that getting in trouble was a new way of life.
Like most siblings, Gabe and his brother were complete opposites. It was strange because when they were teens, Gabe was responsible and Owen was the mouthy one. Then life seemed balanced when the boys were in their twenties.
He guessed somewhere in there Gabe decided he didn’t want to be the good guy any longer. He was still a nice kid, but he made horrible decisions, like leaving his wife of three years for a stripper he met in another county.
Suddenly, Tom sprouted gray hair after gray hair the more he had to bail Gabe out of one spot of trouble or another. He swore Gabe would never live to see his thirtieth birthday. He did, but that thirtieth birthday was certainly iffy.
In a way, bad news for Gabe wasn’t always bad, it helped keep his mind off the breakup.
Tom wasn’t surprised or devastated like he thought he’d be when Julie left him. He saw it coming. Admittedly, Tom was never around, he was far too focused on Gabe and they had married when they were merely twenty. He just wanted her to be happy. Not so much that he wanted to give her that boat load of court ordered alimony each month.
In fact, alimony and Gabe were the reasons for the vacation.
Julie finally remarried and the alimony stopped, and Gabe looked as if he were finally finding his way.
A cause to celebrate.
Then again, poor Owen was like, “And Dad, what exactly am I celebrating?”
Tom told him, “The fact that you’re hearing me talk to you about your brother far less.”
“I’ll celebrate when a little more time goes by,” Owen had told him. “However, I won’t pass up a trip to Vegas.”
Both his sons knew it was a big thing for Tom to get on a plane, even if it wasn’t that long of a flight.
As he packed his bag in his room, he thought about the day he told his sons they were gonna take a trip to Vegas.
“How about I get a hold of a travel agent and we get these plans in motion,” Tom said.
They both made fun of him. It wasn’t like they were taking some exotic vacation, they were going to Las Vegas, the sort of trip that could be booked right on line.
Admittedly, Tom’s knowledge of computers and the internet was limited to a single social media account where most of his posts were people ‘tagging’ him, and that smart phone Owen got him for his fiftieth.
Two years later, Tom was still discovering cool things about it.
Of course, when he was confused, he just called Owen. After all, Owen worked with phones for a living.
Tom was really looking forward to the trip, plus he was a little anxious.
He had everything folded neatly and laid out on his bed to view before putting it in his suitcase. The only things not ready to pack were his phone, his bargain tablet and his chargers.
In fact, he lifted the phone and sent a text to Gabe.
“Are you all packed?”
Gabe replied, “Not yet. Soon.”
“I’ll be by to get you at five,” Tom texted. “You sure you don’t want to spend the night here? It’s an early flight.”
“No.”
Exhaling, Tom spoke out loud, “Okay.” Then sent a message he’d see Gabe in the morning and not to forget his ticket.
Because it was just the way he was, Tom reached out to Owen with a text. “Hey, are you all packed? Did you print your ticket?”
Unlike Gabe, Owen didn’t text back. He called.
“Hey, Buddy,” Tom answered the phone. “You didn’t need to call.”
“Dad, you don’t need to print your ticket, or rather boarding pass.”
“No, we get the boarding pass when we give our ticket at the counter and check our bags,” Tom said.
“No, Dad, just download the app.”
“App for what?”
“Your boarding pass.”
“We get that at the airport.”
“Dad, this isn’t 1995, okay? Your boarding pass and ticket are the same thing. Download the app from the airlines and … you know what? I’m headed out to get a burger, I’ll stop by and do it for you. Did you want one?”
“Yeah, that would be nice, I haven’t had dinner yet, thank you,” Tom said. “Did you want to stay over since we’re leaving so early?”
“No.”
“Okay. Well, are you packed?”
“I’m all packed.”
“Your brother isn’t,” Tom said.
“Well, he’s probably trying to figure out how he’s gonna smuggle weed on the flight.”
“Oh, Owen don’t say that. I think it’s illegal to do that. You don’t think he will, do you?” Tom asked.
“No, Dad, he won’t.”
“Good.”
“He’ll just buy it in Vegas.”
“Good.”
“See you in a half hour,” Owen told him.
“Thank you.”
Tom disconnected the call, then looked to all the items on his bed.
“I need a beer.” Phone in han
d he walked through the living room of his apartment to the kitchen and grabbed a beer. Without missing a beat, he twisted off the cap and took a drink as he began his journey back to his room.
He noticed the television was on, and as he reached down, he paused when he saw the news.
The chyron at the bottom of the screen read, ‘Montana Town shut down due to natural disasters. Hundreds feared dead.’
“Montana?” Tom said, thinking immediately about Gene and the dead cow. He looked down to his phone and contemplated calling Gene to ask if that was the same town. He decided against it, Gene would tell him, and if it was the same place Gene had gone … his friend had his hands full.
THREE – REPEAT
Billings, MT
“Nine-one-one what is your emergency?” the operators voice carried over the speaker in the conference room.
Gene was one of ten people, all experts in one field or another. The meeting was delayed because the coroner wanted to examine at least one of the bodies. Gene didn’t mind but he was pretty sure nothing the corner would tell him would be a surprise.
Crackle.
“Every … One … is dead.”
“I’m sorry, sir, repeat that.”
“Can’t.”
“Sir, please repeat what you said. Everyone is dead?”
“Can’t … can’t breathe.” The male wheezed. “Can’t.”
Silence.
“Sir, sir, are you there?” the operator asked. “Sir, are you there?”
The recording stopped and Captain Leon Grayce of the Montana State police stood up at the end of the long table, he was leading the investigation. “That was it. Call placed by Richard Wilson at twelve sixteen PM. By that point everybody but one person in Hardin had died. I would have been there had I not been in training. This is personal. I lost my wife and two kids there. What the hell happened in my town?”
Governor Luella Williams spoke up, “I understand how painful this is for you, Captain, it is for all of us. We need answers, that’s why we have this think tank. We have the press waiting for answers.”
“Fuck the press,” Captain Grayce said. “Sorry, Ma’am. But what they think and what they know is irrelevant.”
“I beg to differ,” said a major with the US Army. “The wrong thing can cause chaos. What we know was the very last credit card transaction came from that town at eight-twenty-two AM. After that nothing, so whatever occurred, happened in that time frame.”
“It did,” a man in a suit spoke up. Gene figured he was FBI. “We have a video taken at the bank.” He clicked some keys on his laptop and on the big screen behind Captain Gracey, a security footage played a shot inside the bank. Everything appeared normal.
“Eight-twenty-four,” FBI guy said. “Watch the reaction of the teller and the customer.”
At that second both the teller and the customer jumped as glass flew out and a car came through the window.
Just as the two individuals in the video reacted, they stammered, grabbing for things that weren’t there before they finally fell to the ground, where they shook some before turning silent.
“Two minutes,” the coroner said. “That’s how long it took. Two minutes to die. The lungs are expanded and nothing can be expired out of the airways, but they show no internal organ damage. The bulging eyes are from asphyxia.”
The CDC representative. “It’s not biological. Or viral. Nothing like that. Whatever it is has a half-life of about two hours before dissipating. The first body was found in a car off the road one mile outside of Hardin. We estimate Mr. Wilson was exposed seven minutes before dying. He cleaned out his car and took his time before going in that store. At that point it was already leaving. Had he arrived ten minutes later, he may have survived.”
The major tapped his pen. “We definitely think it is some sort of gas.”
Gene chuckled. “It was a gas alright.”
“What kind of gas?” Captain Grayce asked.
“Methane.”
The coroner nodded. “That makes sense.”
“No.” The major shook his head. “It doesn’t. Surely, people would have smelled methane.”
“And sure,” Gene said. “You are ignorant of the fact that the only reason people can smell methane, or rather natural gas, is because an odor is added to it for detection. Methane untouched is odorless, colorless. Deadly.”
“So methane gas was used in an attack?” the Major asked. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“Attack? Maybe if you want to say Mother Nature had enough,” Gene replied.
The captain lifted his hand slightly. “You’re saying the methane came from the ground? Like a huge gas line leaker?”
“Have none of you noticed the giant hole outside of town?” Gene asked.
“The sink hole?” the major asked.
“It’s not a sink hole, it’s a release hole,” Gene explained. “Sink holes drop in. This propelled, you can tell by the dirt surrounding it. Ever make one of those pasta microwave meals? You put the little plastic lid on it, cook it, but it’s so thick that if you don’t catch it in time, the pressure pops the lid. Same thing here. The pressure built up and … pop. It released. This is nothing new. It’s been happening for years, decades.”
Susan finally spoke up. “Close to twenty holes appeared over a span of six years in the Siberian traps. Holes much bigger than this.”
Captain Grayce asked. “Did we have a warning we missed?”
Gene nodded. “I think we did in this region, but nothing no one would think would be a warning. It’s like one of those in hindsight.” He pulled his tablet forward. “There was some seismic activity around eight am. But … a short, very short spike sent the readout from two to four. Now it was so sure, it could have been read like an animal or glitch in the sensor. But that was at eight-thirteen.”
Susan added. “The cameras on the body shop showed the eruption of the hole at eight-fifteen. The men in the shop went to investigate. They died in seconds, so the gas was thick there, but … it took seven minutes to carry over a three mile radius.”
The captain’s face showed his shock. “So we’re talking less than a ten minute warning to evacuate a town.”
The CDC woman shook her head. “You can’t evacuate that fast. Oxygen is the best option. Hence, why our one survivor lived. He was on pure oxygen. But … Dr. Taylor, correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t methane eruptions associated with permafrost in the artic region?”
“They are,” Gene answered with a nod. “But methane also builds up in the soil and oceans. But, for example, two hundred and fifty million years ago, it’s theorized that the Permian Extinction, the largest mass extinction, was caused by a methane bomb. You had an increased buildup of methane in soil, shelf sediments, oceans and permafrost and the pressure just … erupted causing a catastrophic biopic event. It found pressure release wherever it could. Just like here. I mean, maybe not like here. Permian extinction spewed it into the atmosphere. The fact that we only saw dead birds around the hole told me the birds sensed it and flew up. So the cloud probably lingered around a mile.”
“Okay.” Governor Luella waved out her hand. “A little extreme don’t you think. Mass extinction? Let’s pull in focus to the problem at hand. We’re talking here and now.”
“I think the fact we’re talking here and now,” Gene said. “Is indictive of something bigger and wider. We’re in Montana, far from the arctic or oceans, if a methane expulsion happened here, it’s building up. It’s building up big time.”
The major asked. “What do we do?”
Gene shook his head. “I don’t know if we can move fast enough. Right now I have probes going into about nine of these holes globally to get readings. We need readings from the oceans as fast as we can get them.”
“Then what?” the major questioned.
Gene just lifted his hands. “I don’t think there’s anything we can do. Again, if it happened here, it’s already built up pretty bad and is looking for ways to e
scape. If I’m correct in my theory, it’s already too late. It’s not a matter of could it happen or if it happens, it’s a matter of where and when. My answers to that are anywhere and soon.”
Gene’s words brought an eerie silence to the room.
FOUR – THE DAY
Denver International Airport
Controlled annoyance.
That was the best way Tom could describe the vibe he got from his oldest son, Owen. He didn’t get any airport vibe from Gabe, because Gabe was still outside.
Tom paced nervously over that. The whole airport experience was still somewhat new to him. Heck, Tom was still under the impression he had to dress up to get on a plane and was worried he didn’t meet the dress code when he choose to wear a nice pair of jeans and that white and black golf-looking shirt that still had the tags on it. Until he saw Owen. His oldest wore cargo shorts and a black, eighties band, faded tee shirt. Owen’s near shoulder length dark hair was still wet from showering, why he wore his glasses on the top of his head instead of his face, Tom would never know.
Tom stopped walking and looked at his watch. “Where the heck is he?”
“Dad, we made it through TSA in six minutes. He’ll be fine. He doesn’t have a bag to check. We have an hour and a half before we board.”
“What’s he doing out there?”
“Using his phone, wasting battery power and having a smoke.”
“I guess I should have listened when you said we didn’t need to get here this early.” Tom said.
“It’s okay. You’re excited.”
“I am. What do you say we grab some breakfast and some snacks from the shops?”
“Snacks for what?” Owen asked.
“The plane.”
“Dad, it’s only an hour and a half flight.”
“You never know.”
“Alright.” Owen lifted his hand. “Snacks after breakfast. I’ll text Gabe to let him know where we are.”
“Yeah, and tell him he’s missing Starbucks, too.”
Owen started to laugh but stopped.
Flight 3430 Page 2
