Kai glanced at his watch. Only seven minutes left. He did a quick calculation in his head. Assume one minute to get down to the street. Say three minutes to find a jack if they were lucky. Another two minutes to get back up. That only left one minute to jack up the girder, get down the building, run to another building, and run up the stairs. When Kai finished the mental arithmetic, he was stunned. They simply couldn’t do it in time. Brad and Mia were going to die. And unless they left and didn’t come back, the rest of them would too.
“There isn’t enough time,” Kai said.
“I’m not leaving without Mia,” Teresa said. “We are going to try, damn you!”
Kai looked at Teresa, Lani, and Tom. All of them looked ready to risk their lives to save Brad and Mia.
“All right. We can do this,” he said, trying to sound more positive than he felt. “But I need all of you. The search for the jack will go faster.”
Kai couldn’t help feeling that their efforts would be futile. But when they got to the open air of the stairwell, the glass windows long gone, he happened to glance past the now-destroyed building behind them and felt a surge of hope recharge him.
Along the base of another building still standing a hundred yards away, Kai saw a partially obliterated sign, some of the letters washed away.
The sign said, “Re f K ngs.” A red rectangle with a white diagonal line through it flapped to the side. He had seen the same thing on a truck as they were entering Waikiki.
The symbol was easily recognizable to divers. The store was a scuba shop.
THIRTY-EIGHT
11:39 A.m.
8 Minutes to Second Wave
Max had to take a few seconds’ rest after the first two trips carrying the disabled veterans up the stairs to the roof. Adrian looked just as tired as Max, who had finally taken off his jacket and tie. Three of the vets were grossly overweight, tipping the scales at three hundred pounds, and the exertion required was overwhelming. If they didn’t take a break, they might drop some of the people they were carrying. Only ten people were left downstairs: the veterans who couldn’t walk up on their own, plus the spouses or loved ones who wouldn’t come up without them. Those with cell phones had continued to try to call out, but without success.
While Adrian rested, Max went over to the edge of the roof and looked at the skybridge twenty stories below. Rachel was taking far too long. Through the gash in the roof of the walkway, he couldn’t see any movement. Maybe that meant she was on her way up. She had taken his walkie-talkie, so he didn’t have any way to contact her.
The noise of helicopters had been a constant but distant companion when they were on the roof. The sight of so many helicopters landing on crowded rooftops reminded him of photos he’d seen of the evacuation of Saigon just before it fell after the Vietnam War. This evacuation was no less haphazard, but with an even harsher deadline.
The sound of beating rotor blades seemed to be getting louder. Max looked up, shielding his eyes from the noon sun. The buildings and surrounding mountains could make the direction and distance of sound deceiving. He searched the sky and then saw some of the guests pointing in the direction of downtown Honolulu.
A small sightseeing helicopter with no more than six seats was headed in their direction. Along with the other guests, he waved his arms like a madman and yelled loudly, even though it would have been impossible for anyone in the helicopter to hear them.
When the chopper got within one hundred yards, Max could see the pilot’s face. He could also see that the helicopter was already carrying several passengers, although he couldn’t tell how many.
The pilot brought the helicopter lower until it hovered about thirty feet above the roof, where it held steady. He waved with his hands to back off. Max understood, but many of the hotel guests had thronged to where the pilot was trying to land. Everybody wanted to be the first on the helicopter.
“Adrian!” Max said. “Help me get these people back!”
They pushed the guests back toward the roof edge, despite some protests. When they were safely away from the landing zone, the pilot eased the helicopter down.
“Stay here!” Max yelled above the din of the rotors.
He ran over to the helicopter, and the pilot popped his door open.
“Are we glad to see you!”
“How many you got?” the no-nonsense pilot said.
“Maybe sixty, sixty-five. I haven’t counted.”
“Jesus. All right. I’ll see if I can get some more choppers headed this way. A lot of the Marine helicopters got caught on the ground by the first wave. The radio waves are jammed. It may take a few minutes.”
Max looked around the cabin. Three passengers sat in the back. It looked like two seats were still available.
“Do you have room for more?”
“Yeah. Give me two, but no more; I don’t want to be mobbed. I’ve already seen that happen to one helicopter. Crashed when it tried to take off. It won’t be the last one, either, and I don’t want it to happen to me. If I see more than two people run over here, I’m taking off before they get here.”
“Gotcha.”
Max went back over to the guests.
“Okay. This helicopter can only take two people,” he announced. Groans and curse words erupted from the crowd. Max put up his hands to calm them.
“More helicopters are on the way. But we don’t have time for a lottery, so I’m just going to choose two people at random.” He pointed at a septuagenarian couple standing right in front of him. They were obviously husband and wife, the man on crutches because he was missing his right leg.
“Come on, you two.”
He expected a revolt from the others who weren’t selected, but perhaps because they were veterans, they knew how to take orders. Although there was a lot of grousing, no one tried to make a break for the helicopter.
Instead, the man who had been selected protested.
“I’m not going when there are still women here. What kind of a man do you think I am?”
“Sir, this isn’t the Titanic, and we don’t have time to argue—”
“I don’t care. I’m not going until all these women are gone.”
“Mr. Lateen, can you help me here?”
Bob Lateen, who sat to the side, his wheelchair now a floor below him, quickly glanced around the crowd and shook his head.
“I think I can speak for every one of us when I say that not one man is getting on a helicopter until all the women are gone. You’re just wasting your time if you think something else will happen. And I’m going last.”
Max started to protest again, but he could see that Lateen was not going to budge. The other battle-hardened veterans seemed equally stubborn. Max knew he had no time to argue, so he pointed at a woman standing on the other side of the man.
“Fine. You, then. Let’s go.”
Each of the women hugged her husband good-bye. Max escorted them over to the helicopter, instinctively ducking his head under the blades. The women climbed aboard and tearfully waved to their husbands after they strapped in.
“Come back quick,” Max said.
The pilot nodded.
“We’re dropping people off at Tripler Medical Center, or Wheeler Field if Tripler is too busy. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Max backed off as the helicopter’s blades spun up. It lifted off gracefully, made a neat turn, and headed northwest.
The crowd behind him let out an unexpected cheer at the first good sign they’d seen since the end of the brunch.
Max got Adrian and went back to bring the rest of the guests up, hoping what he’d told the guests was true: that more helicopters really were on the way.
Rachel dangled from the pillar with one hand and held Wyatt with the other. When she saw Bill start to come over, she yelled, “Wait! The bridge might collapse if you get on too!”
Bill saw that she was right and stayed on his side, wringing his hands in frustration.
Wyatt was too heavy for Ra
chel to pull him back up.
“Wyatt,” she said. “Grab my legs and climb up my back.”
“Okay,” he said.
Rachel felt him let go of her hand and grab her legs. She gripped the pillar with her free hand, securing herself. Wyatt clambered up her back until he could pull himself to a standing position. When he was out of the way, Rachel swung her leg up until she had some purchase. Carefully, she inched up the pillar until she was on her feet. Together they completed the last few steps of the journey and collapsed onto the floor of the lobby, stunned from the ordeal.
Wyatt’s family cheered from the other end of the sky-bridge. Rachel looked up to see that neither of the parents had made a move to come across.
“Maybe we should just stay over here until this is over,” Bill said.
“No, Dad!” Wyatt begged, terrified by his near fall. “Don’t leave me here!”
Rachel tried to comfort the boy. He lunged as if to go back on to the bridge, but she restrained him.
“Stay there, Wyatt!” Bill yelled. “It’s not safe.”
Wyatt dissolved into tears and sagged to the floor. Paige cried at the sight of her distraught son but didn’t move.
“I’m telling you,” Rachel said, “my husband works at the Pacific Tsunami Warning Center. He says that more waves are coming, and they’re going to be massive.”
“Maybe he’s wrong—”
“He’s not wrong. Just look below you if you don’t believe me. There’s nowhere for a helicopter to land on your roof, so you have to decide right now. And this is your last chance. The skybridge won’t last through the next tsunami.”
Bill and Paige conferred.
“Are they coming?” Wyatt asked Rachel.
“I hope so, honey.”
“Okay,” Bill said. “Paige’s coming first with Hannah. Then I’ll carry Ashley.” He took the five-year-old from Paige’s arms so that Paige could grab Hannah.
“Good. Hurry up. We don’t have much time left.”
Using the method Rachel had used with Wyatt, Paige cautiously began the trip across the skybridge, holding the hand of her eight-year-old daughter. Not wanting to frighten Paige into making a mistake, Rachel suppressed the urge to shout for her to move faster. Because they were being so careful, the crossing took much longer than it should have. Finally, Paige and Hannah made it to the Moana tower without incident.
Bill put Ashley down and squatted so she could put her arms around his neck from behind. Then he stood, holding her piggyback style, and started to cross.
“Paige,” Rachel said, “the kids should start climbing up the stairs. The next wave is supposed to be a hundred and fifty feet high. We need to get at least to the fifteenth floor to be safe.”
Paige was obviously torn. Keeping the children with her meant a slower climb up those ten stories once Bill and Ashley were across. But she didn’t want to leave her husband and other child, either. And sending the children up alone wasn’t an option. They were already scared, and having them by themselves was a recipe for confusion or worse.
In the end, the idea of having two of her children safe was more important than having them with her.
“Will you take them for me?” Paige said. “I can’t leave Ashley and Bill here. What if something happens?”
“I understand,” Rachel said. “I have a daughter myself. I’d do the same.”
Paige hugged her two kids.
“Remember,” Rachel said, “you’ve only got a few minutes left. Besides, you’ll know when it’s time to head up. We’ll wait for you on the sixteenth floor.”
“If you don’t see me in ten minutes …” Paige’s voice trailed off.
“I’ll take care of them.”
“Thank you.”
Rachel led Wyatt and Hannah to the stairwell.
“Where are we going?” said Hannah.
Rachel forced a smile. “We’re going up the stairs so we can ride in a helicopter. Won’t that be fun?”
She opened the door to the stairwell and the children hesitated at the gloom, with little more than a faint glow filtering down from above. Thankfully, the emergency lights in the stairwell above the eighth floor were still on, powered by the batteries in each unit as soon as the hotel power was lost. Below that level, all of the lights had been short-circuited by the water.
“It’s spooky,” Wyatt said.
“That’s just the emergency lights.”
“Aren’t Mommy and Daddy coming?” Hannah said.
I don’t know, Rachel thought as she looked back at Bill tentatively stepping onto the skybridge with Ashley riding piggyback. I hope. I pray. But I don’t know.
“Yes, sweetie,” Rachel said confidently and started up the stairs holding both children’s hands. “Your parents will be with us again soon.”
THIRTY-NINE
11:41 A.m.
6 Minutes to Second Wave
Given all of the obstacles they had encountered up to this point, Kai had no reason to expect that their luck would improve. Even if they simply found a jack and managed to pry Brad and Mia out from under the steel beam, there wouldn’t be time to escape to a taller building. They would all be caught in the ten-story condominium when the next tsunami hit. But on seeing the scuba shop, he felt a rush of optimism. If he could find what he needed in the ruined shop, they might be able to buy themselves more time.
That depended, of course, on the condo building withstanding another tsunami impact. Kai had no illusions about their chances, but the only other option was to leave Brad and Mia to their fates, and he wouldn’t even contemplate that.
Lani, Teresa, and Tom went with Kai to search. He had considered sending Lani and Tom toward high ground on their own, but at this point the thought of Lani fending for herself was frightening. Kai wanted her with him where he could keep an eye on her. And sending Tom off by himself, injured, seemed like a poor idea. Besides, Kai needed their help to gather supplies. They would have to survive with whatever they could carry in one trip; they wouldn’t have time for a second.
When they got outside, Kai divided up the group, dispatching Teresa on a search for as many car jacks as she could find. At least two, maybe three, if she could carry them. Tom and Lani would accompany Kai to the scuba shop.
The street by the condo looked like Sarajevo during the worst years of the Balkan war. Pieces of wood, metal, concrete, vegetation, and, worst of all, human bodies littered the pavement and sidewalks. Cars and other vehicles had been thrown into every conceivable orientation, many of them smashed beyond recognition. One car, a Mini, defied gravity, hovering twenty feet above the ground, skewered like a kebob by a steel pole jutting out of the second story of a building.
Most surprisingly, several people wandered the streets unscathed. Kai supposed he shouldn’t have been amazed—if he had survived, others would have as well—but the utter devastation made it difficult to believe anyone else had lived through it.
An Asian woman babbling in a language Kai didn’t recognize led a boy of about ten toward a hotel and disappeared through the front door. Several teenagers emerged from another hotel and began running wildly in the direction of the mountains. Two people on a tenth-floor balcony about two hundred yards away waved to them.
A man, sopping wet and completely naked except for a pair of running shoes, darted up to them and said, “Where’s Emily?”
“Who?” Kai said, dumbfounded.
The naked man grabbed Kai’s shirt and yanked Kai toward him. “Emily. Have you seen her?”
Kai looked at the others, who were as shocked as he was. He shook his head, and without another word the man released him and kept going down the street, peering into every open doorway and window. Kai could only guess that he had been caught by the tsunami with his girlfriend or wife or daughter. The scope of the tragedy continued to grow in Kai’s mind.
“Don’t stop to talk to anyone else,” he said, and the rest of them understood what he meant.
They just didn’t hav
e time to help others. It was now the law of the jungle: every man for himself. The thought that civilized behavior could degenerate so rapidly was sobering to Kai, but reasoning with panicked people or guiding them to safety would keep them from saving the people they loved. None of them was going to let that happen. No more needed to be said.
Leaving Teresa to rummage through the cars, Kai and the others sprinted to where he had seen the scuba shop. As they got closer, Kai could see more clearly the extensive damage to the building that housed the store. He wasn’t encouraged by its condition.
He ran through the door to find the interior completely gutted. None of the store’s original complement of supplies remained. Instead, it had been replaced by junk swept inside by the wave: chairs, garbage cans, and minor bits of scrap littered the floor. The only recognizable bit from the shop was a Professional Association of Diving Instructors plaque that had been nailed to the wall.
“No!” Kai cried in frustration. “There’s got to be something!”
He began to toss the refuse around, looking under it for the scuba tanks and other equipment that he had imagined would be their lifesavers. But with each piece he threw aside, his hope ebbed further.
Then Lani pointed at something Kai hadn’t noticed in his frenzied search.
“Dad. There’s another door.”
Along the back wall of the store, a large plywood sheet had been slammed against the wall, covering the door. Only a sliver of the door and the doorknob showed. Kai pulled the plywood, which had dug into the Sheetrock, and it clattered to the floor, revealing an undamaged handle. He pushed the door open, and his effort was rewarded.
The plywood had kept the back room of the shop from getting washed away. At the opposite end of the room stood a metal emergency door that was still intact. It opened outward, so the receding water hadn’t been able to push it open.
Nevertheless, the room was still wet from floor to ceiling, which explained why it had come through the tsunami relatively unscathed. If the room had been watertight, the pressure from the water outside would have been far greater than the air in the room, and the water would have blasted the doors inward, sweeping everything away. But something had equalized the pressure, and Kai saw the source: a rivulet of water drained through a three-foot-wide hole near the floor where the pole propping up the Mini had initially penetrated the building.
The Tsunami Countdown Page 21
