Storm Runners #3: Eruption

by Roland Smith

  If only I had some food, I could … She remembered the go bag. Very slowly she slipped the small backpack off her shoulders. Chico watched her suspiciously but didn’t run. He showed a little more of his body as she unzipped a side pocket and pulled out an energy bar.

  “Hungry?”

  Chico stepped completely out from behind the stump.

  “Me too.” Nicole started to unwrap the bar. Chico took a tentative step forward. “You recognize my voice, don’t you?”

  Chico gave her a quiet woot.

  “That’s what I thought.” Nicole took a bite out of the bar, then held the rest out to him. “You want some?”

  “Woot.”

  “You’re going to have to come and get it, because I’m not bringing it to you. And you’d better make it quick. This train’s about to leave the station.”

  Chico took a couple steps forward.

  “I know you’re scared. It’s creepy when the ground shakes. Scared me too. But you’re lucky you weren’t at the farm during the hurricane. Now, that was terrifying.”

  Chico started knuckling his way toward Nicole, then froze, looking at something behind her.

  “It’s okay, Chico. Don’t run off.” Nicole turned her head. Mark was fifty feet away with his camera.

  “Is that a chimpanzee?”

  “No, Mark, it’s a baby Sasquatch.”

  “Funny. Can I get a little closer?”

  “No. You need to back off. Preferably all the way to the truck.”

  “I’m filming. You look just like Jane Goodall. This will be great for our —”

  “Mark. You. Need. To. Get. Out. Of. Here. Now.”

  “I guess I’ll get out of here,” Mark said.

  Nicole turned back around, half expecting Chico to be behind the stump again or, worse, completely gone. But he was still there, looking past her, watching Mark’s retreat.

  “Where were we?” she said. “Oh, yes … food.” She pulled more of the wrapper away from the bar. Chico took another couple steps forward, reaching out for the treat. “No snatch-and-run for you. You’re going to have to eat it here.” She patted her lap.

  “Woot.”

  “That’s right.”

  Reluctantly, Chico climbed into her lap. Nicole broke off a small chunk of energy bar and handed it to him.

  “I wish you could talk and tell me what happened. Where are my mother and sister?”

  “Woot.”

  Chase stopped the quad and waited for Tomás and Cindy to catch up. They had dropped below the slide and had managed to get past it without mishap.

  Now the hard part.

  He looked up the hill. It was a half-mile climb back up to the road, with no guarantee there wouldn’t be more slides blocking their way to Lago. Chase’s eyes stung and his mouth was dry from what he thought was dust. As the truck bounced toward him through the trackless forest, he saw that Tomás had his wipers on. The windshield was streaked with a gray slurry the color of cement.

  Not dust. Ash.

  Tomás and Cindy got out of the truck. Tomás opened the crew cab door and pulled out a roll of toilet paper.

  “Azufre,” Tomás said.

  Chase looked at Cindy. “Toilet paper?”

  “I think azufre means ‘brimstone,’” Cindy explained. “He’s talking about volcanic ash. I have no idea why he has the toilet paper.”

  Tomás popped the hood, removed the air filter, and shook out a cloud of gray ash. He wrapped the filter in toilet paper, put it back in, then did the same to the air filter on the quad. He handed the toilet paper roll to Chase.

  “Wrap every ten miles or the quad, it will stop.”

  “Sure.” Chase put the roll in his go bag and pulled out his respirator.

  “You need something for your eyes,” Cindy told him.

  Tomás ran to the back of the truck, rummaged through the toolbox, and came back with a pair of eye protectors and a roll of duct tape. He covered the perforated sides of the glasses with tape and handed them to Chase.

  “Thanks.”

  “De nada.”

  “I think you should stay down here with the truck while I go up and check the road to see if there are any more landslides.” Chase took the sat phone out of his pocket. “I’ll call you if it’s clear.”

  Tomás nodded.

  Cindy looked doubtful.

  “There’s no point in driving the truck up to the road if it isn’t clear.” Chase took his helmet off so he could put on the mask and the glasses. He had to leave the Bluetooth in his pocket because the helmet wouldn’t fit over it.

  “I just don’t like the idea of us splitting up.”

  Chase put his helmet back on. “I’ve been driving a quad since I was five years old.”

  “But not during an eruption. I’m worried about this ash.”

  Chase was too. He looked up through the trees. It had gotten darker in the last hour, and the gray against the sky was not a thundercloud.

  “It won’t take me long.” Chase swung onto the quad and started up the hill toward the road.

  Nicole walked up to the truck with Chico in her arms. The young chimp was happily munching his third energy bar.

  “I told you there was a chimp,” Mark said.

  “So you did,” John said.

  “Chico,” Nicole said. “Chiquita’s twin brother.”

  “Where does Chico ride when the circus is traveling?”

  “In the clown truck.”

  “Semi?”

  Nicole nodded. “Two drivers. They haul most of the wardrobe for the show, portable dressing rooms, props. The clowns follow the semi in campers and trailers.”

  “What are the chances of Chico’s getting loose on his own?”

  “Just about zero. When he’s not performing, he’s in a harness with a leash.”

  “No harness,” Mark said.

  “They take it off when they put him in his cage.”

  “Then we can assume the clown truck has had an accident,” John said. “What other animals would the circus be transporting?”

  “Lions, tigers, bears, camels, elephants, and dogs.”

  “Dogs?” Mark asked.

  “Thirty-two of them. Mostly poodles. Teacup up to standard. It’s the show’s most popular act.”

  “How far can a chimp travel in a day?” John asked.

  “I don’t know. What worries me is, why did he travel anywhere?”

  Chase made it back up to the road, but it hadn’t been easy. It was going to be even harder for the truck, but if anyone could get it up there, Tomás could. The road was covered with half an inch of fine gray ash. Sweat dripped down the back of Chase’s neck from his helmet. He took it off, pulled down his respirator, took a long drink of water, then rinsed the ash off the safety glasses. The glasses had helped, but the stinging ash was still finding its way into his eyes. He put the Bluetooth back into his ear and hit redial on the sat phone. Cindy answered first.

  “Are you on the road?”

  “Yes. A lot of ash up here. I’m going to drive down a mile or so and make sure there aren’t any more landslides. So stay put. I’ll give you a call when I know.”

  “What landslides?” His father’s voice was in his ear.

  Chase had forgotten again that everyone could listen in. He told his father — and everyone else — about the landslide and their plan to get around it.

  “How much ash is up there?” his father asked.

  “Half an inch on the road. But it’s not falling. It’s kind of swirling around in the breeze.”

  “Same here,” his father said. “There might have been an eruption and an earthquake. You need to get up to Lago. The sooner we get off this mountain, the better.”

  Chase could tell by the tone of his voice that his father’s gut barometer was on high alert. Chase’s TGB was too. The afternoon light filtering through the suspended ash was ghost-like. I wonder if this is what it would look like after a nuclear explosion, he thought.

  “Are you
wearing your respirator?” his father asked.

  “Yeah. And some eye protection Tomás rigged up.”

  “Keep a lookout for circus animals,” Nicole said.

  “What?”

  “I found Chico wandering around in the woods.”

  “The chimp?”

  “Yes. He was scared to death. I don’t know if any other animals escaped. Or if they did, whether they’re anywhere near you. But it’s possible. We looked at the map, and Chico was three miles from the highway.”

  “What other kinds of animals are you talking about?”

  “Lions and tigers and bears, oh my,” Mark said. “Along with some other less aggressive things.”

  Chase switched over to the phone’s GPS screen. He was probably less than five miles from the highway as the crow flies. Or as the tiger runs.

  “The only easy day was yesterday,” he said.

  “What did you say?” his father asked.

  “I gotta go.”

  Chase ended the call, pulled the Bluetooth from his ear, and put on his gear before getting back on the quad. He continued down the road, smiling. Let him think about what I said for a change. But the smile didn’t last long. He rounded a corner and put on the brakes so hard, the quad nearly flipped. Sitting in the middle of the road was a gray poodle the size of a small domestic cat. At least, Chase thought it was a poodle, from the way its fur was cut.

  And very few wild animals have blue bows tied to their ears.

  The poodle was holding up its right front paw as if it were injured. If Chase hadn’t slammed on the brakes, he would have run right over the tiny dog. He got off the quad, squatted down, and called the dog to him. The poodle didn’t move.

  “You probably think I’m an alien,” Chase said. He took off his helmet, glasses, and respirator. “Is that better?” The poodle still didn’t move. “Apparently, it isn’t better. Look. We’re on an active volcano. We need to get —”

  The ground started shaking violently. Chase dropped to the ground and covered his head with his arms, wishing he’d kept his helmet on. The upheaval and deafening roar seemed to go on forever. When it finally stopped, Chase was still shaking even though the ground was still. As he struggled to catch his breath, he felt something rubbing against his thigh. He glanced down. The trembling poodle looked up at him. Chase picked up the dog and settled it in his lap. He started to pet it and discovered that the poodle was not gray. Its white fur was covered in ash.

  John Masters felt the steering go and hit the brakes. The truck slid sideways for twenty feet before it slammed against a tree, crunching the passenger door. The ground continued to shake for a couple more seconds, then stopped.

  Chico had his arms around Nicole’s neck so tightly, he was nearly choking her. “That was a bad one,” she said.

  Mark rubbed the bump on his forehead. “I’m getting a little sick of these earthquakes!”

  John was getting sick of them too, but this last one had felt a little different. “That might have been an eruption.”

  “Perfect,” Mark said.

  “Are you okay?” Nicole asked Mark.

  “Just a small concussion. But thanks for asking.”

  “I’ll check the truck.” John put on his respirator.

  “I’ll go with you,” Nicole said.

  John shook his head. “You two stay here. No use in all of us going out into the ash.”

  With difficulty Nicole managed to peel Chico’s arms from around her neck. They were less than half a mile from the highway. She hoped there was nothing wrong with the truck.

  We’re so close! she thought.

  Her phone and Mark’s rang simultaneously. Nicole put hers on speakerphone so she and Mark could listen together.

  “Is everyone okay?” John asked.

  “Tomás and I are fine,” Cindy said. “We’re waiting to hear from Chase.”

  “I’m fine,” Chase said. “Tomás and Cindy, the road looks clear, so you can start making your way up here. Are you listening in, Nicole?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Does the show have a dog act?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “I think I have one of the performers in my lap. It’s the size of a big squirrel.”

  “White?”

  “It was, but now it’s ash gray. It has blue bows in its ears.”

  “Pepe,” Nicole said. “What’s he doing all the way over there? Why is he loose? Why is he by himself?”

  “I have no idea. I’m just glad it was Pepe in the middle of the road and not a lion, tiger, or bear.”

  “Oh, my,” Mark said.

  “Funny,” Chase said. “I’m going to head up the road with Pepe and find out where he came from, or get to Lago, whichever comes first. Are you on the highway?”

  “No,” Nicole said. “We just hit a tree. I’m not sure if we’re going anywhere.”

  “The truck’s fine,” John said. “Just a little dented. We’ll be back down to the highway within half an hour unless we have another earthquake, or eruption. Everyone stay in touch.” He ended the call.

  Chase picked up Pepe and looked at the little poodle’s paw. The pad was split, but the ash in the wound seemed to have stopped the bleeding.

  “I’m sure that’s sore, but I think you’re going to live.”

  Chase had never owned a dog. His mother had been allergic to both cats and dogs. He’d always wanted a dog, but not under these circumstances. He got on the quad and put Pepe on his lap.

  “Let’s go see what’s up the road.”

  A few minutes later, he saw two men. They had rags wrapped around their heads to keep the ash out. Chase slowed down so he wouldn’t stir up too much ash. He stopped the quad about twenty feet away, removed his helmet and respirator, then walked up to them, carrying Pepe in the crook of his arm. When he reached them, Pepe started growling. The two men looked at the poodle as if they didn’t know what it was. At first Chase thought they might be with the circus, but judging from Pepe’s reaction, they couldn’t be roustabouts. They’d know the dog, and Pepe would know them.

  They must be from Lago. Chase smiled, wishing Cindy was with him so she could talk to them.

  “¿Hablas inglés?”

  The men shook their covered heads.

  “I’m afraid that’s about the extent of my Spanish,” Chase said.

  One of the men pointed at the quad.

  “Yes.” He turned his head to look at the quad. “I came up the road on —”

  Chase’s eyes rolled up in their sockets, he fell to his knees, and his world went from ash gray to pitch black.

  John pulled the truck onto the highway with a satisfied sigh.

  “Not too bad,” he said.

  “Yeah,” Mark said. “We only almost died twice.”

  “We’ll go to the bridge. If we don’t find them, we’ll turn around and head back to Puebla. But first I’m going to rewrap the air filter.”

  This time Nicole and Mark got out with him to stretch their legs. Nicole wandered over to the edge of the road, carrying Chico. Suddenly, she screamed.

  John and Mark ran over to them. At the bottom of the ravine was a stream. A smashed semitrailer marked with the Rossi Brothers’ logo lay across it. Scattered around the trailer were four dead elephants.

  Nicole had turned away from the terrible sight. “Rosy, Hannico, Me-Tu, and Hugo,” she said quietly. “Hugo is … was … the father of Pet’s calf.”

  Mark turned his camera away from the carnage as well, and put his arm around Nicole.

  John was equally horrified, but he did not turn away. He looked up the road toward the bridge and saw where the shoulder must have broken off and fallen into the ravine. He ran back to the truck and grabbed his climbing rope and harness.

  “What are you doing?” Nicole asked.

  “I’m going down to check it out. How many people ride in the tractor?”

  “Two. But there might be a third riding in the sleeper. Do you think they’re still in there
?”

  “We’ll see,” John said, though from the look of the wreckage, he was certain no one had gotten out. The real question was, were they still alive? “What do your mom and sister drive?”

  “They have a truck camper.”

  John was relieved to hear that. “Can you drive a quad?”

  “Sure,” Nicole said.

  “I want you and Mark to head up to the bridge and see if anyone else has had an accident or is stranded.” He pointed at the ravine. “The circus logo on the side of the trailer is pointing away from the bridge, which means they were heading to Puebla when they went off the road. They’d probably turned around when they saw the bridge was out.”

  “What made them go off the road?”

  John pointed up the road. “Looks like they were in the right-hand lane coming around that curve. Maybe another quake. Or maybe the elephants got scared and rocked the trailer, and the drivers lost control. You can see where the pavement fell away. If you find something, let me know. If I find someone alive down there, I’ll call you.” He looked at Mark. “I need you to use your eyes without the camera.”

  “No problem,” Mark said.

  “Is your head okay?”

  Mark smiled. “The only time you have to worry about my head, or any other part of my body, is when I’m not complaining.”

  John returned the smile. “That’s what I figured.” Back in his SEAL days, he’d had a team member just like Mark, a guy by the name of Raul Delgado. Raul used to constantly whine and complain, but when it was crunch time, he was the best operative they had. John had heard that Raul was now Commander Delgado, head honcho of SEAL Team One.

  As Mark and Nicole off-loaded the quad, John rigged his ropes. It had been fifteen years since he had rappelled into a ravine, but he found his hands working the line and harness as if it were yesterday.