by Bobby Akart
Then an updraft sucked the smoke skyward for a brief moment, providing Jake Wheeler a clear glimpse of the source of the intense heat.
Hellfire.
Chapter 2
Norris Area
Yellowstone
Jake scrambled down the mountain in search of the firefighters. He raced without regard to the poor footing underneath, like a man running from the devil itself. Within a minute, he found the man-made trail and chased after the others toward the creek bed, which was being used as a natural barrier to stem the advance of the fire.
Another minute later, he caught up with the others and followed his team leader down the trail under a canopy of lodgepole pines, their branches turned into ghostly aberrations of dust and ash. The constant foot traffic along the newly created path had pulverized the soil and ash to a fine gray powder that flowed over the toes of his boots like a cloud of dust.
Overhead, the helicopters had momentarily abandoned their continuous water brigade to and from Yellowstone Lake. Wildfires had become business as usual in northwestern Wyoming, especially as a drought had set in over the last couple of years. Despite the extended drought, forest fires had existed since the first tree had been struck by the first bolt of lightning, the number one natural cause.
Mother Nature had a way of overcoming tragedy, and the forests of the Mountain West provided proof positive of this. Despite the fires over the years, forests had survived, evolved, and grown stronger.
As Jake and his team reached a point where the path had widened to a narrow road, he wondered whether the bulldozers and chainsaws caused more of a lasting scar on the beauty of the Yellowstone landscape than a fire did.
The fresher air allowed them to stop their descent down the mountain and an opportunity to inhale fresh, clean oxygen. It also allowed Jake the opportunity to consider what he’d just witnessed.
He didn’t want to accept the explanation that his gut instinct screamed at him. It was probably just the charred, glowing embers of a fallen tree. After all, he couldn’t get close enough to be sure. But what about the extraordinary heat, he argued with himself. That was just my overactive sensory perceptions getting in the way of logic.
“There’s too much brush fire! We’ve gotta move the line farther down the mountain.”
The instructions shouted by the team leader reminded Jake that he didn’t have time to dwell on what he’d seen.
“Run for the creek!” shouted one of the firemen as the group bolted down the trail once again.
Jake followed along, exhausted from days of tackling the biggest forest fire at Yellowstone since 1988. That September, thousands of firefighters had descended upon the park in an attempt to save it from total destruction. High winds and a prolonged drought fueled the largest wildfire in the recorded history of Yellowstone National Park, and only the cooler temperatures of autumn brought the fires to an end. The actual cause was never determined.
Smoke was first reported in this part of the Norris Geyser Basin nine days ago during a routine helicopter patrol of the park. By the time firefighters could assemble, hot, dry winds had forced the fire across the side of the ridge and into the ravine.
Day after day, wind-driven flames jumped roads and fire lines, with burning embers starting new flash fires up to a mile away. This portion of the park was eventually closed by day three of the fire, and the firefighters leapt into action. Jake had joined the fight too.
Despite their quick response, it wasn’t long before this portion of the Wonderland of the West, as the Yellowstone region was once called, was engulfed in flames.
After days of battling the blaze, the firefighters caught a break. The flames reached the Firehole River, which provided them an unlimited supply of water. The fire was stymied in its advance. Then the wonders of Mother Nature, who had a way of fixing things, blessed Yellowstone with a steady rain, its first in three weeks. As the afternoon turned to night, the light rain turned into a steady downpour. The fire was doused, and by dawn the next day, the charred remains turned into a muddy mess, but no longer a danger.
When it was over, Jake wanted to return to the spot where he’d seen the unusual glow. For one thing, he wanted to make sure its flame had been put out by the rain. More importantly, he wanted to convince himself that the conclusions he’d reached on the side of that mountain that day were not the result of an overactive imagination.
I just have to know.
Chapter 3
Near the Kilauea Volcano
The Island of Hawaii
Dusty Holder whistled cheerfully as he drove the rented RV up the side of the mountain toward the peak of Mount Kilauea. A river of lava had engulfed the surroundings after the volcano had erupted on Hawaii’s Big Island more than a week before.
The treacherous lava flow had destroyed more than eighty homes and forced thousands of tourists and islanders alike from nearby towns. The fact that Kilauea was once again blowing its top was not unusual. The volcano, located on the southeast part of the Island of Hawaii, was one of the most active volcanoes in the world. It had continuously erupted on and off for thousands of years.
What attracted the attention of Dusty and the late sleepers in the back of the RV was the depth of the magma that blasted toward the surface of Kilauea and ejected itself skyward through the volcanic edifice. The southeast flank of the volcano was becoming increasingly unstable and could potentially slide into the Pacific as it tore away from the rest of Kilauea.
The ramifications of this were enormous for the region. The possibility of a tsunami being generated from the landslide would have a far-reaching effect depending on the volume of the mountain that disappeared into the ocean. In addition, the thinning of the volcanic structure would provide an easy subterranean pathway for the magma to travel to the surface, resulting in further eruptions in the future.
“Hey, you got us going early,” moaned a sleepy-eyed Rita Charles as she emerged from the back of the RV. She was wearing a pair of pajama bottoms covered in a Hello Kitty pattern and an oversized Cal-Berkley sweatshirt in honor of her undergraduate alma mater.
“Good morning, sunshine!” said Dusty, a notorious early riser who had an affinity for Cheetos. He continued to crunch on the cheese-flavored snack while Rita spoke.
“Shut up. Did you make coffee?”
“Of course,” he replied as he swerved to avoid a coconut that had rolled into the middle of the road.
Dusty looked into the rearview mirror and saw that the other female member of the team was stirring, so he respectfully found a place at the crest of a ridge to pull over, allowing them to fill their systems with caffeine and hopefully a better disposition.
He carefully parked the RV at a roadside picnic overlook, which gave them a view of Hilo to their north and Kilauea to their south. He grabbed his still-full tumbler of iced coffee and stepped out of the RV to provide the women some privacy.
Just as he opened the door, he was startled by a news truck roaring past. The satellite dishes attached to the top swayed back and forth with the top-heavy vehicle as a slight gust of hot wind crossed the peak.
He walked to the edge of the cliff overlooking Hilo and took in the beautiful scenery. For miles, the unspoiled paradise of the Hilo Forest Reserve stretched between Kilauea and Mauna Kea, a dormant, snowcapped volcano that rose fourteen thousand feet above sea level to create the highest point in the state.
He casually walked to the rear of the RV and took in the surroundings. His eyes gazed upon Mauna Loa, serene and docile at the moment. One of five volcanoes that form the Island of Hawaii, Mauna Loa has been considered the largest volcano on Earth in terms of both mass and volume. Unlike the conical-shaped stratovolcanoes of Mount St. Helens and Mount Pinatubo, Mauna Loa rose out of the sea with relatively gentle slopes to reach a peak just below her sister to the north, Mauna Kea.
Like Kilauea, Mauna Loa had been erupting continuously for at least seven hundred thousand years. However, the most recent eruption had occurred in t
he spring of 1984, over thirty years ago. Unlike the hundreds of other scientists who’d descended upon the island paradise to study Kilauea, their team had different plans.
They were studying the potential lava link between Kilauea and Mauna Loa, which stemmed from a connection fifty miles beneath the Earth’s surface. The two massive volcanoes seemed to contradict one another. Historically, the island’s two active volcanoes, separated by only a few miles, seemed to ignore one another when eruptions took place. When one was active, the other was not, and the episodes where both inflated simultaneously were extremely rare.
However, their research had shown that both volcanoes were fed by the same source of magma under the Big Island. The coupling of the two was via a vast network of channels of molten rock, which climbed haphazardly toward the surface.
Following the renewed activity of Kilauea in recent days, the team used global positioning devices to create readings comparing the deflation and inflation of the cycles of the two massive volcanoes. The GPS findings led them to reach a conclusion that might have far-reaching implications when studying volcanoes around the world. Applying their findings to historical records, they determined that an inflation within the magma chamber causing an eruption at Kilauea was often followed by swelling at Mauna Loa about six months later.
The two volcanoes were linked in a way that they shared the source of energy. In Iceland and the Galapagos Islands, similar sister volcanoes stood side by side. If their findings held true in this instance, volcanologists could more accurately predict eruptions.
“Good morning, Dusty!” A friendly, energetic voice greeted him as the rear camper door opened and slowly hissed to a close on its pneumatic closer.
Chapter 4
Near the Kilauea Volcano
The Island of Hawaii
In contrast to the growling beast that was Rita in the morning, their boss, Dr. Ashby Donovan, was far more amiable.
“Hey, Doc! I was just checking out the view.”
The head of the three-person team dispatched by NASA to the Big Island emerged from the camper alone and joined Dusty’s side. Ashby was a geologist whose primary focus was on volcanology. She had attended one of the top schools in the world for her chosen profession—Oregon State College of Earth, Ocean and Atmospheric Sciences.
She was a member of the prestigious VIPER group, an acronym for volcanology, igneous petrology, and economic geology research, a real mouthful, hence the adoption of the abbreviated form. As a former student and part-time faculty member within VIPER, she was trained in conducting research in all fields associated with geology, and volcanoes in particular.
Dusty and Rita were VIPER students assigned to Ashby and had traveled abroad with her, conducting geologic testing on both land and sea. They’d studied the volcanic eruption of Volcán de Fuego in Guatemala and mapped the granite deposits of the Cascade Range in the Pacific Northwest.
“Welcome to another day in paradise, right?” Dusty greeted her with a smile and a quick toast of his iced coffee.
Ashby smiled and nodded before she took another sip of brew. “Yeah. It’ll be our last day, I’m afraid.”
She joined Dusty across the road, where they stood by a guardrail protecting them from a cliff overlooking Mauna Loa. The faint sounds of local seabirds rose up the side of the ridge over the long stand of tropical forest.
After a moment in which they soaked in the beauty, they dashed across the road to avoid yet another media truck just as Rita emerged from the RV.
Ashby’s two assistants were polar opposites, every bit as much as the contrast between the serene view towards Mauna Loa and the destructive scene that surrounded Kilauea.
Dusty, her geologist assistant, was an easygoing jokester who preferred to dress like he was going on a fossil dig in the Canadian Badlands. His standard attire was some form of cargo shorts, regardless of the weather, a graphic tee shirt, which typically reflected his mood for the day, and sneakers, which he’d wear until his sock-covered toes protruded through the end.
Rita, like Ashby, was fascinated by volcanoes, although for different reasons. Rita came from a long family of scientists who studied volcanic systems. She was at the top of her class, and Ashby admired her for being book-smart. Rita also had a tendency to be arrogant, and her attitude toward Dusty often hinted that she was somewhat of a man-hater. Their relationship was a mystery, much like the volcanic plumbing systems they studied. Despite their differences, the two had an excellent working relationship, and Ashby liked to believe that her own calm demeanor kept the two from clawing each other’s eyes out.
The three of them found a seat and stared toward the Pacific Ocean. Despite the incredible sight before them, their eyes couldn’t help but be drawn toward Kilauea on their left. The peace and quiet of an early summer morning on Mauna Loa stood in stark contrast to the view on the south side of the road facing Kilauea.
Winding its way from the top of the volcano to the Pacific was a river of molten misery, carving its way down the path of least resistance to the ocean. Although, there was no meaningful impediment, as everything in the lava’s path succumbed to its superheated wrath.
For the first time in nearly a hundred years, lava from Kilauea’s molten lake overflowed, creating a fiery spectacle that grabbed the world’s attention. At first, spectators rushed to the surrounding neighborhoods to take a selfie for social media or to make light of the event by roasting marshmallows over the thousand-degree slow-moving lava flow.
Finally, after one adventurous tourist slipped in an attempt to get the perfect picture, resulting in his burning to death, local law enforcement closed the Kilauea region to looky-loos. Only credentialed media and scientists were allowed near the volcano and the continuation of its eruption.
“We look at these things from a different perspective,” started Ashby. “There aren’t a lot of words that can describe a gradual, slow-developing natural disaster like this.”
A plume of ash continued to rise from Kilauea into what would ordinarily be a beautiful blue sky in Hawaii. To complicate matters, a new fissure had opened up the day before, which released lava towards subdivisions in the town of Pahoa.
Dusty, who was the resident social media watcher and internet newshound, pointed out reactions from around the country. “I really don’t understand people. We’ve seen the devastation here. Thousands of people have lost their homes and businesses. Tourism, the lifeblood of this island, has disappeared. On the mainland, this news story is about tenth on the list of what’s currently being talked about on Twitter and Facebook.”
Rita shrugged. “It’s not often that an ordinary American subdivision gets evacuated because of a volcano. Even the fairly recent events at Mount St. Helens and Mount Redoubt wouldn’t get the attention of people in, say, Florida.”
“We don’t care when they get hit by a hurricane either,” said Dusty, who’d lived his entire life on the West Coast.
Ashby stood and finished her coffee. She wiped the thin, imperceptible film of ash that covered the picnic table off her butt. “This is our last day, gang. Let’s make the most of it.”
Dusty groaned. “Awww. Come on, boss, can’t we stretch it another day?”
“I wish, buddy, but I’ve gotta get home and prepare for the symposium at CalTech in a few days. Plus, you two have to prepare reports on everything we’ve learned here.”
“I hate the reports part,” Dusty whined.
“Idiot,” Rita chimed in, giving her counterpart a playful shove. “That’s how we get our grade. Do you think gallivanting around Hawaii will get you that doctorate degree?”
“Hold on, you two,” interrupted their professor. “I have a reward for you both. The reports are necessary because I have to turn them into NASA, who commissioned this project. However, I’d like to give you two an opportunity to shine.”
“How so?” asked Rita, whose interest was immediately piqued.
“Scientific American has been bugging me for a research paper
on something I consider newsworthy,” started Ashby in her response. “I think our discoveries here are newsworthy, don’t you?”
“Hell yeah!” exclaimed Dusty, who gave his associate a high five.
“For real?” asked Rita, the younger and more hip of the two.
Ashby laughed. “For real. Now, let’s get loaded up and do our final calculations. I wanna be on the last flight to LA that gets us home by tonight.”
Chapter 5
Near the Kilauea Volcano
The Island of Hawaii
“The seven-point-nine earthquake occurred here, indicating compression along a fault at approximately three miles below sea level,” explained Dusty as Ashby and Rita hovered over his shoulder. He used the cursor as a pointing tool. “That’s why we’re seeing this destabilization along the southern flank of Kilauea.”
“Over time, the volcano grew upward through years of eruptive activity,” added Rita. She reached over Dusty’s shoulder and moved the cursor on his MacBook to open a separate tab. The screen changed to show a moving gif image indicating the results of her research. “This created a weak detachment at the contact between the stronger oceanic crust that the Big Island was built on top of, and the weaker conglomeration of fractured lavas and other volcanic debris that it was created from.”
“The net result is the whole flank is sliding into the ocean,” concluded Dusty.
Ashby stood to take the entire scene into perspective and then put her arms on Dusty’s shoulders. “Show me the drone footage again,” requested Ashby. “I want to take another look at those cracks.”
Dusty made several keystrokes on the MacBook, and the screen revealed a video from above Kilauea. A drone had been sent above the volcano the day before, and scientists were alarmed by what it revealed. Several cracks had appeared along one of Kilauea’s main craters.
