Footprints of Thunder (13 page)

They finished climbing the hill, went down the grade, and hit the stretch where the road split into two one-way sections divided by dense trees. It felt like driving down a dark green tunnel. Suddenly, Cubby hit the brakes, sliding to a tire-squealing stop. Ripman very nearly hit the windshield, and John and his Big Gulp rolled off the bench seat. He came up cussing, but stopped when he looked out. Cubby was ten feet from where the road ended abruptly. The asphalt was neatly cut from one edge of the road to the other, and where the road should have continued was a forest, but unlike the one that had lined the road to Newberg. The spindly second-growth Douglas firs were gone, and in their place were giants, with girths three to four times larger. John stood, his head protruding from the sunroof, and traced one of the giants from its massive base to its crown, towering above him. Had the road been shifted by the tornado? Had these trees always been there, hidden from the road by the firs?

Cubby and Ripman climbed out of the van, and Ripman walked to the nearest giant and kicked it with his foot.

“It’s real enough,” he snorted, “but I still don’t believe it. Where … how did it—?”

Cubby’s sudden loud sobbing cut Ripman off. John turned to see Cubby drop to his knees, his hands spread wide and his face turned to heaven. He buried his face in his hands and begged for Jesus to take him. Angrily stomping over, Ripman pulled Cubby’s hands from his race. Cubby jerked his hands back and shoved Ripman away, the other boy, overpowered, staggered back a few steps, his face red with anger.

“Get away from me!” Cubby shouted, his voice ragged with tears. “Don’t you know what’s happened? Can’t you see it? It’s the second coming. It’s the rapture. The righteous have been taken from the world and I have been found wanting.”

“Don’t give me that, Cubby. This is just some kind of landslide, or maybe that tornado did something weird, but don’t give me that supernatural crapola.”

As Cubby kept on sobbing, Ripman stepped forward, stopped and kicked dirt at the weeping boy, and then stalked to the edge of the forest, peering into the blackness. John approached Cubby but hesitated, embarrassed and afraid. Ripman was an atheist, but John was an agnostic who could be convinced of God’s existence by a miraculous event. What force short of a miracle could have delivered the changes? After a few minutes, Ripman stomped back to yell disgustedly, “Stop blubbering, you big baby. I’ll prove to you this isn’t the second coming. John, watch him till I get back.”

John opened his mouth to protest, but Ripman walked off down the road toward Newberg. John watched him until the dark enveloped him, then he turned back to the forest, a forest that hadn’t been there a few hours ago.

“I hope you’re right about this, Ripman,” John whispered, “I hope to God you’re right.”

13. Flight Delay

The flight leader radioed they were off course and his compass was haywire. The pilots of the other four torpedo bombers confirmed their instruments were going crazy, and then lost contact. After the planes vanished a twin engine Martin Mariner, with a crew of 13, was dispatched to search the area. The search plane was never heard from again.

—
Roger Cochran,
Vanished: Secrets of the Bermuda Triangle

Honolulu, Hawaii

Time Quilt: Saturday, 10:11
P.M.
AHT (Aleutian-Hawaiian Time)

A
ssistant Professor Emmett Puglisi hurried through the airport looking for the arrival monitor. There were few people, but because he feared being late, everyone was in his way. Spotting a monitor, he quickly scanned for Dr. Wang’s flight. Emmett was relieved; he still had a few minutes before her flight arrived.

Emmett noted the gate number but only took three steps before he was stopped by a touch on the arm. Emmett turned to see Professor Carrollee Chen-Slater’s beaming face. There was nothing subdued about Carrollee, not her smile, not her personality, and not the way she dressed. Today she was dressed in a brightly colored flowered sundress, which on most people would be gaudy, but Carrollee added large flowers to her sandals and one in her hair. Carrollee’s taste in clothes ran well past loud, and stopped just a little short of being circus garb.

“Hello, Dr. Puglisi,” she said with mock formality.

“Hello, Carrollee,” Emmett replied warily. He and Carrollee worked at the university but in different departments, and he knew her well enough to be careful of what he said.

“Dropping off, picking up, or going somewhere?”

Emmett considered lying but wasn’t good enough at it to fool Carrollee.

“I’m picking up Professor Wang. She’s been at a conference on the mainland.”

Carrollee immediately cupped her hand, put her nose inside and twisted it, making the universal sign for brownnosing.

“It’s not like that,” Emmett said defensively. “She didn’t want to leave her car in long-term parking, and she doesn’t have any family—”

“Or friends.”

“I’m a friend.”

“You’re an obsequious kiss-up who wants tenure.” Carrollee said it with a smile, but it stung anyway. Emmett changed the subject. “What are you doing here?”

“I dropped my brother off. He’s going to the mainland for a couple of weeks. That’s him over there,” she said.

Emmett followed the point to see a uniformed man a few years older than Carrollee standing in a ticket line.

“I’m only doing it so he’ll keep buying me stuff in the PX cheap,” she added.

“Nice seeing you, Carrollee, but I’ve got to get down to the gate.”

“I’ll walk along.”

Emmett left reluctantly, with the unpredictable Dr. Chen-Slater at his side. He didn’t want her near when he met Dr. Wang, but didn’t know how to get rid of her.

“It might be better if I met her alone, Carrollee.”

“Want to do your kissing up in private, eh?”

“I’m just doing her a favor. It’s just that if she sees us together she might think we’re dating or something.”

Carrollee laughed softly and then said, “Are you suggesting I’m not fit to be your girl?”

Emmett was pretty sure she was kidding, but admitted to himself he was mildly attracted to her. Carrollee was four inches over five feet and had a round face topped with a mass of short brown curls. Her figure was unremarkable, except for the way she covered it.

“I’m not saying anything about you,” he said defensively. “I just know Dr. Wang doesn’t think faculty should have personal relationships.”

“You mean sex.”

“Relationships. It creates complications—”

Emmett never got to finish the conversation with Carrollee because at that moment a loud boom pealed through the terminal. People in the concourse gasped and babies cried.

“A sonic boom?” Carrollee asked.

“Maybe, but it sounded more like thunder to me.”

Carrollee walked to a window. Mindlessly, Emmett followed.

“It’s a clear sky,” she said, puzzled.

No clouds or aircraft were in sight, and Emmett soon gave up and managed to slip away to find Dr. Wang’s gate.

Twenty minutes past arrival time a commotion broke out by the arrival monitor. Emmett joined the crowd to find the arrival times gone, replaced by DELAYED. A half hour later the enormity of the disaster was clear.

14. Tidal Wave

The ocean will become desert and the fish will die in the sea.

—
Nostradamus

Off Naples, Florida

Time Quilt: Sunday, 3:12
A.M.
EST

A
n ear-splitting sound blasted Carmen and Ron awake and to their feet.

“Look over there!” Carmen yelled and pointed. Ron followed her gesture starboard to an island. In confusion, Ron mentally reviewed his charts. There was no island within hundreds of miles of their position. Even if he had made a navigational error, they hadn’t been sailing long enough to reach one of the charted islands. As his mind continued to race he realized that there was something wrong with the island they were Looking at. It was getting smaller … no, it was sinking, and sinking rapidly. His mind hadn’t quite grasped the importance of that fact when the kids came out of the cabin, distracting him.

“What was that?” Rosa asked. “I nearly peed my pants. Hey, an island, neat. Can we go there?”

“Can we go there?” Chris echoed. “Hey, where’s it going?”

The island was clearly sinking. Just half its original mass was visible.

“Look at the sky,” Carmen said.

Ron saw a boiling angry cloud bank above the island. Otherwise it was a clear night in all directions. Lightning suddenly lit the sky, quickly followed by peals of thunder, and Ron realized the clouds were racing away from the island in their direction. More lightning traced constant jagged patterns and lit up the clouds while overlapping peals of thunder sounded nearly deafening.

“Man almost as good as a laser show!” Chris yelled above the thunder.

“It’s too close,” Carmen shouted into Ron’s ear. “Can we move away—”

A stiff breeze suddenly hit them, interrupting Carmen. It was then Ron realized the danger.

“Carmen! Get life jackets on Rosa and Chris and one on yourself, and get below! Secure everything. Quickly!”

“What’s wrong?”

Ron hesitated. Rosa and Chris were staring at him with frightened eyes, but there was no hiding what was coming,

“I think we’re going to be hit by a tidal wave.”

Rosa and Chris looked stunned, but Carmen immediately took action, herding the kids into the cabin. The breeze was getting stronger and waves were rolling the
Entrepreneur
to starboard. Ron hit the Start button and listened to it crank, his eyes never leaving the sinking island. After a few seconds of eternity the little engine chugged to life, but it wasn’t designed for outrunning a tidal wave and could manage only a few knots. Ron hesitated, anguished. Rationally he knew his best chance was to head into the wave, but every cell in his body was programmed to run from danger, not toward it. But the lives of his son and his new family depended on his decision. Finally, he put the
Entrepreneur
in gear and spun the wheel to starboard, and toward the island.

Carmen reappeared on deck with two life jackets. Chris and Rosa were peeking out of the cabin behind her, worried—but Ron was reassured that they didn’t reflect his own mortal terror. Carmen looked around briefly and then turned to Ron.

“Aren’t you going the wrong way?”

“If there is a tidal wave, we need to head into it. If we run, it will catch us and swamp us. If it hits us broadside we’ll be capsized.”

“Won’t it swamp us if we run into it?”

“There’s a better chance this way.”

Ron wanted to say more, but there was no conviction in his words. If he tried to explain more his voice would quiver.

“Really, this is the best chance.”

Carmen took the helm while Ron put on his life jacket, cinching it tight. He stepped below to double-check the kids’ jackets and weakly attempted reassurance.

When Ron took the helm again Carmen gripped the railing, her knuckles white, as if she expected the wave at any second. The wind was picking up and the clouds from the island were beginning to block out the stars. The lightning was only intermittent now. Ron found the occasional peals of thunder more disturbing than the constant booming, as he reflexively used the pauses to prepare for the next boom. The starry calm night of a few minutes ago was now a stormy nightmare.

Ron looked for the island just as a wave broke over the bow, showering Carmen and Ron with spray. As the
Entrepreneur
crested still another wave, Ron searched ahead.

“Carmen, do you see the island?”

“There, I think there.” ‘ .

Ron looked but saw nothing but waves and spray. At least Carmen confirmed that they were probably heading in the right direction. More waves broke over the bow and Ron began to think they might drown even before the tidal wave sank the Entrepreneur. Then Carmen shouted again. “Oh my god! Ron, look at that!”