by Roland Smith
“The bridge is out,” John said.
There were three army trucks parked on their side of the bridge and no vehicles on the Puebla side. He slowed to a stop, then consulted his GPS.
“I’ll go talk to them,” Nicole said.
“I’ll go with you,” Mark said.
“Ask them when the bridge went out,” John said, pulling a topographical map from the glove box to compare to the map on his phone.
The bridge had spanned a deep gully three hundred feet across. A third of the bridge was now gone. Nicole asked the soldiers when it had collapsed, but they didn’t know exactly. They’d been sent from Mexico City right after the earthquake hit. When they called in and reported that the bridge was out, their commander told them to stay put until they were relieved. The sergeant asked if Nicole had any spare food or water. She sent Mark to see what Mr. Masters could spare.
“Did you see any circus trucks drive up to the other side? Or did you pass any circus trucks on your way up here?” Nicole asked in Spanish.
The sergeant shook his head. But he had heard about the circus. His cousin had gone to see it in Puebla. He’d been planning to take his family when the circus performed in Mexico City.
“That may not happen,” Nicole told him. She went on to explain her connection to the circus and gathered as much information from the man as she could.
A few minutes later, Mark and John walked up with a box of food and water and handed it to the soldiers. Nicole filled them in. “The sergeant thinks my mother and sister and the rest of the circus probably started out of Puebla, found they couldn’t get far on the ruined roads, and turned back. So maybe they’re safe.” Or stranded somewhere on the road — or worse, she thought. She continued aloud, “He says there are several roads and trails through the mountains, but they’re only passable with four-wheel drive.”
“I think I’ve found a way around the bridge,” John said. “Ask him about the volcano.”
“I already did,” she told him. “He said the same thing as Tomás. He isn’t worried about Popocatepetl either. He told me the mountain lets out steam all of the time, and it’s nothing serious. He’s guessing the earthquake opened a fissure in the crater, but it will close up in a couple of days. It always does, he said.”
John gave the sergeant his phone number and asked him to call if he heard anything about the circus or warnings about the volcano. Back in the truck, he showed Nicole and Mark the map, moving his finger along the road he was planning to take.
“It looks more like a trail than a road,” Mark said.
“It is a trail,” John admitted. “It swings back around to the highway on the other side of the bridge. If it’s wide enough and not too steep, we should be able to make it.”
“If it’s still there after the earthquake,” Mark said.
John put the truck into four-wheel drive. “If the trail’s not there, we’ll make our own.”
Mark rolled his eyes. “Here we go again.”
“What are you talking about?” Nicole asked.
“When we ran out of roads during the hurricane, Lightning John here and his sidekick, Tomás, decided to redefine the meaning of off-road vehicle. At one point we were stuck on a train trestle. I can’t tell you how much fun that was.”
John smiled. “Lightning John, huh? I gather Chase told you? It’s not the worst nickname I’ve had.” He bumped the truck off the highway and headed into the trees.
In some ways Popocatepetl reminded Chase of Mount Hood. The dense blanket of evergreen trees, the steep and winding logging roads, the small patches of snow surviving in the shade. Before the lightning strike — before everything changed — his family had owned a cabin on Mount Hood. They had spent almost as much time at the cabin as they did in their regular home. His father had even been a volunteer in the Mount Hood Ski Patrol. Chase’s best memories were from their time on the mountain. His worst memory was too.
“So tell me something about Chase Masters,” Cindy said. She was sitting between him and Tomás.
“There’s not much to tell,” Chase said.
Cindy laughed. “You sound like your dad.”
“You sound like a reporter.”
“Guilty as charged. It’s in my blood. My parents are both journalists.”
“Where do they live?” Chase asked.
“Southern California. In the same house I grew up in.”
“So you know about earthquakes.”
“I’ve been in my share of quakes, and of course I’ve covered them for television.”
“How about volcanoes?”
“The only volcano I’ve covered is Mount Saint Helens in Washington. I did a story about it the last time it acted up. It blew some steam and ash for a few days, then went back to sleep. I hope Popocatepetl does the same.”
Chase hoped so too, but his TGB was telling him otherwise. How often had his father said, “The gut barometer is never wrong, so always listen to your TGB.” His father believed that everyone had a TGB. It worked like a real barometer, but instead of hanging on a wall, it was in your solar plexus. “When you feel the bottom drop out of your gut, you’d better go on full alert,” his father always said. Right now Chase’s gut was somewhere between his knees and his ankles. He hoped the feeling of hollow dread was an aftereffect of the novocaine. Or maybe I’m just hungry. He hadn’t eaten anything since the airplane. He pulled an energy bar out of his go bag and offered half to Cindy.
“No, thanks. Let’s get back to Chase Masters.”
“Like I said, there not much to tell. I was born and raised in Oregon. Two years ago, my mother and sister were killed in an auto accident. One year ago my father was struck by lightning in our backyard. When he came out of the coma, he sold my uncle his share in their construction company, and we hit the road. I go to school while my father and Tomás charge people a lot of money to put their property back together.”
“I was sorry to hear about your mom and sister,” Cindy said. “I can’t imagine how difficult that’s been.”
“Thanks.”
“As far as your father charging people a lot of money to fix things, I suspect he’s spent most, if not all, of his profit on this little excursion. If he didn’t have the cash, we’d be back in Florida, worrying about Tomás’s and Nicole’s families instead of down here trying to find them.”
Chase shrugged. She had a point, but his father was not a psychic like Momma Rossi. He hadn’t been charging people because he knew that one day he would have to save Tomás’s and Nicole’s families.
“I can see you’re not convinced,” Cindy said. “It’s hard for men like your father to give up their training.”
“What training?”
“His SEAL training.”
“As in sea, air, and land? The Navy SEALs?”
“That’s right.”
“My father was not a Navy SEAL.”
“Chief Petty Officer John Sebastian Masters.”
“Sebastian?”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t know your father’s middle name.”
“I knew the initial,” Chase said, which sounded weak even to him. “Did he tell you he was a Navy SEAL?”
“No.”
“Then how —”
“You don’t really think that I would pick your dad as a documentary subject without doing some research first?”
“I guess not,” Chase said. How could I not have known something so important?
“My little brother — well, not so little anymore — is a Navy SEAL. We lived close to Coronado, California, where SEAL Team One is based. I can’t remember a time when my brother didn’t want to become a SEAL. His bedroom was plastered with SEAL paraphernalia and Navy recruiting posters. Your father was younger in the photo, of course, but I recognized him from one of those posters. I called my brother to verify it. He said John Sebastian Masters is the real deal. Your dad’s exploits in Asia are the things of SEAL Team One legend.”
Chase’s father’s voice echoed in his head. I was
in a bad eruption in Indonesia before you were born…. I was sent there to help rescue some people…. Chase still couldn’t believe he hadn’t heard any of this before now. His mother had to have known his father had been a SEAL.
“What kind of operations?” Chase asked.
“My brother wouldn’t tell me, the little creep. He said they were classified.”
Chase looked over at Tomás. He had both hands on the steering wheel and was looking straight ahead as if he wasn’t paying the slightest attention to their conversation. Did he know about his partner’s past?
“What did my dad say when you asked him about being a SEAL?”
“I didn’t ask him.”
“Why not?” If they weren’t driving up the side of an active volcano, he’d be on the sat phone with his father right now demanding an answer.
“Good question,” Cindy said. “I guess I was waiting for him to say something about it, but the fact that he didn’t tells me even more about him than if he had.”
“How so?”
“I know a lot of ex-SEALs. They’re a proud bunch and delighted to talk about their accomplishments. Then along comes someone like your dad, who doesn’t even tell you about it. I assumed that you knew. I probably shouldn’t have said anything.”
“I’m glad you did,” Chase said. “And don’t worry. When I ask him about it, I’ll figure out a way to do it without pointing at you.”
“I’d appreciate that.” Cindy looked out the windshield at the darkening sky. “The only easy day was yesterday,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“That’s the SEAL motto.”
Chase hoped it wasn’t true.
“Stop the truck!” Nicole shouted.
“Why?” John asked.
“Because I need to puke,” Mark said.
“I’m serious,” Nicole insisted. “I saw something!”
John put the brakes on, and Nicole was out of the cab before the truck came to a complete stop.
“I’m serious about puking,” Mark said.
“Take care of it outside the cab while I find out what Nicole is up to.”
The trail they had been following was slippery and narrow. They had already gotten stuck twice, but both times John had managed to get the truck loose without using the winch. He caught up to Nicole fifty yards into the woods, on the downhill side of the trail.
“What did you see?”
“I’m not sure.” Nicole scanned the thick trees. “It was just a glimpse of something or someone.”
“We’re at least a mile above the highway and several miles from the nearest village. It’s not likely that anyone would be wandering this far above the —”
The ground shook. John grabbed Nicole and pulled her down to the base of a tree, shielding her from the dead branches raining down. The tremor sounded like a freight train barreling right past them. John counted the seconds. When he reached nine the tremor stopped, followed by complete silence, as if the forest were holding its breath, waiting.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I think so.” Nicole sat up and brushed the pine needles out of her black hair.
John looked up the hill and shouted, “Are you alive, Mark?”
“Barely!” Mark shouted back. “Oh, no …”
The ground had started shaking again.
The truck continued to shake after Tomás had stopped. Saint Christopher and two of Tomás’s children fell off the dash. Four cracks appeared in front of the truck, as if a giant, invisible cat paw had scratched the road.
“Whoa,” Chase said.
“I think that was the second tremor,” Cindy said. “We couldn’t feel the first one because the truck was moving.”
Tomás put Saint Christopher back on the dash and replaced the photos of the two children. Everyone got out of the cab to take a closer look at the cracks.
“Not too bad,” Tomás said. “We can get around them.”
All at once, each of their satellite phones starting ringing. Chase was about to hit talk when he remembered the Bluetooth in his ear and tapped it instead.
“Are you guys okay?”
Chase jumped when he heard his father’s voice directly in his ear.
“We’re fine,” Cindy said. Chase could hear her speaking out loud and in his ear at the same time. He walked a short distance away to avoid the echo. “There are some cracks in the road, but Tomás thinks we can get around them. Where are you?”
“About twelve miles from the bridge overland. An hour and a half by road. The bridge was out. We’re trying to get around it and drop back down to the highway. It’s tough going, but we’re making progress.”
“How’s Nicole?” Chase asked.
“Shaken,” Nicole answered in his earpiece.
Chase laughed. It was going to take him a while to get used to the fact that everyone was listening in.
“Nicole thought she saw something in the woods, so we stopped. Lucky we did. The truck slid about five feet during the last tremor. I’m going to have to winch it back up onto the trail.”
“Don’t worry about Mark,” Mark chimed in. “He was crushed by the truck, but it means more food for all of you.”
It was Cindy’s turn to laugh. “Did you get video?”
“Of my death? Yeah.”
“Good. Seriously, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I was on the other side of the truck when it slid off the trail. And the camera was rolling. So were my bowels.”
“Too much information, Mark.”
“Don’t worry. I didn’t get any footage of that. You did hear that I said trail instead of road, right?”
“I heard.”
“Lightning John is up to his old tricks, blazing trails like Meriwether Lewis. Why are we down here again?”
“We won’t know until it’s over,” Cindy said.
“Perfect.”
“We’d better get going,” John interrupted. “We have to winch the truck back up, contact Mark’s next of kin, then bury him.”
“I think the mountain is going to take care of that for you,” Mark said.
Lightning John laughed and ended the call.
“Landslide,” Tomás said. When he spoke in English, it was usually in one-word sentences.
“A huge landslide,” Chase said. A fifteen-foot pile of boulders and uprooted trees covered the road.
“How far is Lago?” Cindy asked.
“Nine or ten miles.”
They got out of the truck. Chase started to climb the pile.
“What are you doing?” Cindy called after him.
“Checking to see how far it goes.”
“Be careful.”
“Yes, Mo — uh … ma’am. I’ll be fine.” Did I almost say mom? He scrambled up the loose scree as if he were trying to get away from the idea. What’s up with that? He reached the top and looked at the debris pile. It was extensive. Fifty yards, maybe more. It would take a road crew a week to move it. A dangerous job. They’d have to start at the top of the slide and work their way down. If the pile shifted, or if there was another earthquake … Chase suddenly realized the precarious position he was in and quickly climbed back down.
“What’s it look like?” Cindy asked.
“It’s a mess. We’re not getting past it, and no one from Lago is either. We were lucky we weren’t driving by when this let go. I couldn’t see very far beyond the slide, but there might be more slides up ahead. We’re going to have to go around.”
Chase looked at Tomás to see how much he had understood. Apparently, he’d understood enough, because he’d switched on his sat phone and was consulting the GPS. When he finished, he showed the screen to them and traced the alternate route he wanted to take. All of it was off-road.
“It might be best if we unload the quad,” Chase said. Tomás nodded. “I can ride up ahead of you and make sure the path is clear.”
“Crank the steering wheel to the left,” John told Mark. “Keep your foot off the brake
. When I tell you, give it a little gas. But don’t let the wheels spin. If it starts to slide, we’ll lose the truck. In fact, we should unload everything in case we do lose the truck. That way we’ll still have the quad and our supplies.”
“How many people can ride on the quad?” Mark asked.
“Two.”
“But there are three of us.”
“If we lose the truck, there won’t be because you’ll be inside the truck.” John pointed down the steep hill. “Wherever it ends up.”
“Maybe Nicole would like to do the truck thing.”
“I’d be happy to,” Nicole said.
“Except I told her dad that I’d try to keep her safe,” John said.
Mark pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Wanna call my dad?”
John smiled. “Give me a hand unloading the quad.”
“I’m going to look around,” Nicole said. “I know I saw something.”
“Don’t wander too far,” John said. “And take your go bag with you.”
Nicole walked back to where she thought she had seen something. Whatever it is, she thought, uncertain why it was so important. Mr. Masters probably thinks I’m insane. She had seen it out of the corner of her eye past Mark’s head on the passenger side. By the time she’d leaned forward, it had vanished into the trees. She scanned the forest for a familiar landmark. There! An old tree blown over by the wind or downed by lightning. She walked toward it. Halfway there, she saw a movement behind the splintered stump and stopped. She knew better than to walk up to a wild animal in the woods, if that’s what it was. She waited and watched. In the distance she heard the truck start and John shouting instructions to Mark. It moved again. A humanlike face peered out from behind the stump. It was Chico, Chiquita’s twin brother. He was baring his teeth in a fear grimace. She didn’t blame him. Earthquakes were scary. So was being lost in the woods and separated from the show. She couldn’t imagine what was going through the young chimp’s mind, but she knew exactly what was going through her own.
Chico’s bizarre appearance here meant that her mother and sister had to be nearby. It also meant that animals had escaped from the circus trucks, and the show was almost certainly in trouble. Nicole sat down on the ground and averted her gaze to make herself appear less threatening. If it had been Chiquita peeking out from behind the stump, Nicole would have walked up to her with open arms, calling her name, but she didn’t know Chico that well. If she walked toward him, he was liable to run away. The only thing to do was wait for him to get over his fear and approach her.
