Chasing the fleeting sun, he plots a course that should take them toward civilization — hopefully
before all hell breaks loose.
Chapter 12
The evacuees from Crescent Beach waken to an early-morning rain, which only adds to their misery. Last night, they had gathered on a large slate slab wedged near the summit to contemplate this latest obstacle in their ongoing trial to survive. They stared in awe as the ancient volcano exhaled a steady stream of silver smoke, straight to heaven’s gate. The clock had struck thirteen for the ones left behind, and with time against them, each had no choice but to answer Noah’s challenge.
After the latest shock wore off, several people began to express concern, and even more doubt, that they would be able to navigate through the rough wildlands ahead — let alone escape the impending wrath of the agitated volcano. But when pressed, no one could offer a better alternative, though what Noah was asking promised to push all of them to their breaking points. And there was no assurance that they would live through it.
The castaways were further burdened by restless sleep, made worse by the sporadic aftershocks that rattled through the night. Others didn’t even try, occupying themselves instead by preparing for the needs of the living, as well as to honor the dead. Evelyn, Patrick, and Sarah worked tirelessly to convert the extra articles of clothing into rucksacks for transporting essentials and to fashion walking sticks to help navigate the wild terrain. Meanwhile, Noah plotted the next day’s journey. His infrared binoculars allowed him to see for several kilometers, and from his high vantage point he charted a path to take them away from the ticking time bomb to the south.
At daybreak, red-eyed and restless, the survivors gather at the gravesite of Leilu, Tom, and Jeremy. They marvel at the triad of cairns erected by Hiroshi and Luna Saito. Working through the night, they carefully stacked stones of varying sizes. The departed would now rest in a rock garden memorial crowned with steeples of balanced pebbles. The body of Leilu, Tom’s lock of hair, and Jeremy’s sweat-stained pillow are all that remain, now buried under the stones. Luna had made the pillow from a shower cap during the first of the long nights that she had devoted to Jeremy’s care.
Evelyn steps forward and offers up a few words.
“We give tribute today to those we say goodbye to by offering the only thing that we can. And that is to live on, and keep fighting, so that these departed souls will not have died in vain. Their memory lives in those they touched and loved, and we pledge to continue to live and love till we die, and we shall offer nothing less.
“Leilu Kei Saito, I did not know you, but I have had the honor to meet your mother and father and they are two of the most extraordinary people I have ever known. They have touched all of us with their kindness, support, and unwavering dedication for which we are all grateful. We mourn their loss on this solemn day as they honor you in this sculptural garden of earth and stone. They will never forget the love and joy your presence brought to them and they will cherish that time in this life, and the next.
“Thomas Edward Murphy, your warm spirit will live on in all of our hearts. You served your fellow man with charity and thoughtfulness, and you were a man of great integrity. It is my promise to you that when I get back to England, I will personally seek out your family and tell them what a noble Englishman you were. Noah’s father, Jackson, who was a very wise man, once told me that you can see the mettle of a man by the way he acts toward a stranger. To that end, I can only conclude that you were an outstanding individual, as you treated every one of us with respect and kindness and always put others before yourself. I will often seek the memory of your rollicking laugh to comfort me in the tough days ahead.
“Jeremy Kane, your suffering is over. You are joined with your beloved Jessica, and you and your wife can rest in peace for eternity.
“And finally, all the others who were lost four days ago: Whether it was a spouse, a family member, or a friend, we will remember all of those who were taken from us on that day, and the ones previously, for as long as we live.”
A few of the others say their goodbyes then, before concluding with a moment of silence. Each of the survivors places a stone on the memorial before they leave; there is not a dry eye among them. They adjourn to the campfire where they eat a portioned breakfast of powdered eggs and canned ham served up by the Lockhearts. Noah explains to the others that they had withheld the bounty before, largely because of their successful foraging near the beach. In addition to the powdered eggs, they have several cans of salted ham and chicken, an assortment of dehydrated vegetables, two pounds of brown rice, a bag of quinoa seeds, a tin of cornmeal and oatmeal; if rationed properly, the provisions should last them about five days.
While they breakfast, Noah stands before them to go over the details of the day’s endeavor. They will be traveling in pairs, ten paces apart from one another, with Noah and Mia serving as the scout team ahead of everyone else. The plan elicits confusion, in no one more than Mia herself. He assigns the teams in descending order: Max and Alice will travel behind the scout team, followed by Sarah and Patrick, then Craig and Josette, Evelyn and Hank, Luna and Jacob, and finally, bringing up the rear, Hiroshi. He stresses that each pair is responsible for watching out for the pair in front of them and providing support when necessary. He then demonstrates the three hand signals he will use to communicate with them: halt, come to me, run for cover.
With stomachs half full, Noah and Mia set off through a winding path high in the foothills that cuts through a series of undulating black peaks. He determined the safest route was to remain high above the flooded countryside for at least the first leg of the journey. The rain is gone and the sun is starting to burn through the dense fog of what has been a cold and miserable morning. Billowy clouds hang low from the mountaintops and move ever so slowly through the landscape in a dreamlike panorama.
Noah and Mia walk ahead of the others at a brisk pace; for a short while, little passes between them, aside from the occasional instruction from Noah about where to walk and what to look out for. But she appears more than capable. Finally, he looks behind them to see that they are out of earshot from others.
“This may sound strange, but you remind me of someone I used to work with in the Special Forces,” he says.
Mia shoots him a bewildered look. “Ummm, I do? How can that be? I just graduated prep school.”
Noah laughs. “You
are
much younger than the person I’m thinking of, but you share a common ability.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not following you.”
“I think that you do, actually. In my previous line of work, I often consulted with people just like you — people with extraordinary senses of perception.”
This was true. Within the halls of British Intelligence, telepaths were referred to as
strays.
While peculiar, the term accurately described the existence of these extraordinary people who, throughout history, had been hunted and killed, demonized as witches, false prophets, and heretics. During the past century, their fate had been little better, most living as vagrants in the streets or locked in psych wards, mislabeled and discarded as paranoid schizophrenics.
Mia looks nervous, as if she may run. Noah tries to put her at ease. “It’s okay, Mia. Your secret is safe with me. Just listen to what I have to say, alright?”
She nods pensively, but says nothing. Noah, sensing her fear, decides to alter his approach and relate the story of Virgil Hunt.
*************
Virgil was a twenty-two-year-old man, declared an invalid, who lived under the custodial care of his family; decades later, he would have been called mildly autistic. He lived a quiet life with his mother and father and their two cats in a suburb of Baltimore, Maryland.
All that changed when a dictaphone recording was brought before the FBI’s Special Intelligence Service. The recording was a conversation between Dr. Melvin Hunt and his son Virgil on the night of the thirteenth of October, 1940. Earlier in the week, Virgil had spent days in bed, speaking incoherently and disoriented by fever and flu-riddled dreams that went on for three restless nights. When Virgil’s fever finally broke, he burst into his parents’ bedroom where they were sleeping and told them of a horrible vision he had seen. Startled and confused, Melvin made his son go back to bed, but not before listening to what Virgil repeated over and over again. It was during this episode that Melvin recorded Virgil’s harrowing premonition.
“On January 7, 1941, the Imperial Japanese Navy will launch a surprise attack on Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, killing thousands and crippling the Pacific fleet. I have seen it... I have seen.”
The recording, only eleven seconds long, sent a shiver through Dr. Hunt that would haunt him for the rest of his life. The next day, he took the recording to the FBI in Washington, where it was reviewed by the SIS. Much to his dismay and his country’s detriment, the revelation was promptly dismissed and forgotten about. The FBI realized only much later that, indeed, the recording was a warning.
Soon after the attack on Pearl Harbor, there was formed a special division, known as the Office of Strategic Services, which later became the CIA. One of its early missions was to find individuals like Virgil Hunt who had similar ESP abilities. While certain people publicly claimed to have this ability, after they were properly vetted, nothing could substantiate their claims. It became apparent that people who truly had this power were few in number, and the ones who did learned early on to keep it to themselves. The few they did find were considered a viable threat to national security and were kept under the close watch and supervision of the federal government. Over time, their stance softened, and when they realized that these individuals could be trained to serve within the intelligence sector, they were given prominent positions in hopes that they could prevent future catastrophes.
*************
Mia quietly listens to everything Noah says. She can scarcely believe her ears, but maybe the most shocking aspect of the story is that she doesn’t feel afraid, not anymore. For once in her life, she doesn’t care what a stranger might think of her or fear that no one will believe her. There is something about Noah that makes her feel genuinely comfortable, and for that she is grateful. For as long as she can recall, she has felt uncomfortable with those around her — no more so than in her own skin.
“Mia, I believe that you have this gift and I need your help if we are to get out of this mess alive,” Noah says. “I will listen with an open mind to anything you have to say. I understand the power you hold.”
“Okay, so now what?” she blurts.
Her sudden acquiescence catches him off guard. He smiles vaguely. “So now... I guess that makes you my scout.”
Mia is nonplussed. “I don’t think you get it. I have no control over what I see and what I don’t. I can’t even tell you if it’s ever going to happen to me again. I used to think I could use my ability to keep my family safe, only to
kill my parents in the process
!” Her shout is louder than she had intended; she looks behind her to make sure that no one else has heard.
“I understand your frustration, and I am sorry for what happened to your parents. But I do know that no one can control the future. And you cannot blame yourself for things that are out of your control.”
“Can’t I?” her voice cracks. “I have saved my parents and my dipshit brother more times than I care to remember.”
“Hmm, I see.” Noah rubs his thickly stubbled chin as he ponders. “Tell me, when was the first time you altered your family’s future?”
Mia looks to the sky. “I was eight years old, and we just got back… wait, no. That wasn’t the first time,” she corrects herself. “The
first
time, I was six, and Max and I were sitting in the backseat of my dad’s Range Rover. I think it was a day like any other until I had this terrible vision of a car running through a red light and broadsiding us on the passenger side. I saw my mother dead and my father dying, covered in her blood. Knowing I had to act fast, I did the only thing I could think of, which was to make myself sick. So I threw up everywhere. Later, when we got to the intersection, we sat in traffic while emergency crews tried to rescue the passengers of the car that had been in my vision. Except that it had collided with a different car, smashing it to pieces, leaving three people dead and as many injured.”
“This happened to you when you were six?”
“Yeah,” she nods. “Ever since that moment, I thought my purpose in this life was to protect my family. Which is why I don’t understand what happened on the airship. Why would I have a vision if I couldn’t do anything to stop it? I know if we went back for them, Max and I wouldn’t have survived the crash. But that doesn’t mean I forgive myself. I can’t forgive myself. I
can’t
!” She wipes her eyes.
Noah rests his arm around her shoulder as they walk slower. “Mia, you can’t blame yourself for what has happened here and, from what I gather, you have saved your family time and time again. Why this was kept from you, I can’t explain, but I am certain you have spent your entire life trying to suppress your ability. All that I am asking of you now is to open yourself up to it and allow your senses to do what they were meant to do.”