Aftershock: A Donovan Nash Novel (A Donovan Nash Thriller) (34 page)

Lauren put her hands on Marie’s shoulders and walked her down the aisle, past John, until they were at the rear of the plane. Lauren opened the lavatory door and switched on the light. “There’s a sink, soap, and towels in there. Make yourself at home. I’ll be right outside the door if you need me.”

Marie slipped into the small lavatory and latched the door. Lauren exhaled and leaned against the door. The moment the
adrenaline stopped she was going to crash under the weight of Buck’s death. They’d lost Eco-Watch members before, but Lauren felt a special connection with Buck. They all did. He was the man who’d come to the rescue on so many occasions. It wasn’t as if they’d just lost a friend—they’d lost their guardian angel—and she felt exposed, vulnerable. She crossed her arms across her chest and fought the tears.

Through the window, Lauren caught sight of Michael inspecting the plane. She saw him react to something unseen, as if he’d lost his balance. Confused, she moved toward the window as the floor of the
Galileo
jumped and shuddered beneath her feet. She managed to steady herself and sit heavily in one of the chairs. Even though Mt. Atitlán was a hundred miles away, she could see a monstrous curtain of ash boil up above the haze level, followed by what sounded like a massive sonic boom.

Marie bolted out of the lavatory, terror in her young eyes. In the front of the plane, Michael rushed up the stairs.

“Craig, start the engines, we’re going now!” Michael began closing the
Galileo’s
door and turned toward Lauren. “Buckle up, this is going to be fast and dirty!”

“John, is the
Scimitar
okay?”

“We’re fine, but I can’t fly any farther west until we get in the air.”

Lauren situated Marie into one of the seats and made sure she was buckled in tight. She could hear the big Rolls-Royce engines light off and quickly settle into an idle. She took a seat across from Marie as Michael added power, and the
Galileo
barreled down the taxiway toward the end of the runway. Michael lined up on the centerline of the runway and pushed the throttles forward. As the
Galileo
lifted free of the runway, the gear retracted with a resounding thump, and they accelerated and climbed steeply.

The Gulfstream burst from the low-hanging smog and haze into the clearer air above. High above, Lauren could see that the ash reached well into the stratosphere, propelled by strong upper winds. As the Gulfstream banked, her eyes followed the ash to its source. In the distance she saw that the entire southeastern
quadrant of Atitlán had blown out. In a wedge that fanned out from the epicenter of what used to be the cone, she could see the destruction of the landscape. Trees lay flat, and fires had been ignited by a torrential flow of expelled lava. From where she sat, she had no idea where Donovan and Eva were in relation to the volcano, but if they had been directly in the blast zone, they never had a chance.

Lauren threw off her seat belt and went forward to where John sat. She lightly touched his shoulder so he’d know she was behind him. She studied the screens and found nothing recognizable—blotches of heat mixed with what looked like trees.

“Where are they?” Lauren asked quietly.

“The
Scimitar
is just now arriving overhead. The fires are going to make their infrared signatures hard to find.”

“Call them on the radio!” Lauren felt helpless, her anxiety climbing, her thoughts turned to the source of strength she’d grown to rely on, and she realized once again that Buck was gone.

“Michael’s been calling since we broke ground.”

Lauren lowered her head. Of course he was. “Where are Janie and Eric?”

“We’re considerably faster than they are, we just passed over them a minute or so ago. Once we find Mr. Nash, we’ll vector the helicopter in for the pickup.”

Lauren glanced down the aisle at Marie, who was looking at her, uncertainty reflected in her young face. Lauren forced a smile; her heart went out to the young girl. Marie was caught in the middle of a firestorm that was not of her making, they all were, and there was nothing any of them could do but wait.

Towering far above, shooting up into the atmosphere, the ash generated its own lightning—electrical spider webs exploding within the cloud, the thunder booming above the omnipresent roar of the volcano. In the distance, Donovan could see trees igniting from falling embers.

“Michael! Where are you?” he said into the radio. There was no answer.

“Where are they?” Eva asked.

“I don’t know,” Donovan replied, as he scanned the destroyed buildings. In the rubble, he spotted something he hadn’t expected, the shattered remains of a wooden boat paddle. He grabbed Eva by the hand, and they navigated the fallen trees, working their way away from the road. The terrain sloped away from the buildings, and Donovan found a well-worn path. Fifty yards later they came to a small stream. The gorge was steep; at the bottom, surrounded by sand, the water was moving, tumbling from one pool into another as it surged downhill. There was no sign of a boat.

“With all the burning trees, I think using the river will move us downhill faster than the road. Ready?” Donovan asked as he started down the embankment, still holding Eva’s hand.

She let out a small scream as they slid down into the water. This part of the river was only waist deep, and Donovan held the radio over his head to keep it dry. Together, using a combination of wading, treading water, and floating, they allowed the river to move them away from Atitlán.

“
Galileo
calling Donovan.”

The transmission was scratchy, but Donovan splashed his way to the rocky shore and stopped. He keyed the microphone. “Michael, you’re weak, but I read you.”

“Donovan! The
Scimitar
can’t find you. Say your position!”

“We’re south from the Cessna, in a valley following a stream.”

“I copy. John is repositioning the
Scimitar
as we speak. How far south from the crash site do you think you’ve traveled?”

“Maybe a third of a mile. Right now we’re in a pretty narrow gorge. How far out is Janie?”

“Ten minutes, fifteen at most.” Michael said. “Can you hear the
Scimitar
? John says he’s following a river.”

“The river’s too loud. We have to keep moving, I don’t think Janie can extract us from here anyway.”

Donovan and Eva pushed back into the river and once again began wading downstream. He kept looking upward, hoping to see either the
Scimitar
or the helicopter.

“The water is getting warmer,” Eva said. They negotiated a waterfall by staying to one side and gripping the rocks as they carefully stepped down to the next pool.

Donovan hadn’t noticed until she’d brought it up, but it was warmer. He looked out ahead of them. The rocks were wet, but the water level was a good foot lower. The water was not only growing warmer, it was also dropping.

“Eva, we need to move faster.” Donovan looked upstream. “I think we may have a problem.”

Overhead, the high-pitched scream of the
Scimitar
echoed through the forest canopy, faded, and then circled back around.

“Donovan,” Michael’s urgent transmission sounded over the radio. “You need to climb—get out of the gorge, now! A river of lava is flowing down the ravine.”

Donovan looked up at the nearly vertical rock walls that surrounded them. Climbing wasn’t an option. Upstream, the surging lava had choked off the river at its source. The water level continued to drop dramatically, until all that remained of
the river was a smattering of pools. Panicked fish flopped in the sand and mud.

“It’s too steep to climb,” Donovan said as he and Eva began to run. “Michael, how far do we have to go until there’s a place for Janie to lift us out of here?”

“John says that just around the next bend you’re going to come to a cliff. Janie might be able to hoist you out there.”

“Will she get there before the lava does?”

“John says ‘yes,’” Michael replied. “But it’s going to be close.”

The wet mud and sand made it slow going as they moved downhill. Donovan kept looking behind them, expecting to see the torrent of lava that would envelope them. He kept studying the shore, trying to visualize a way they could climb free. All he found was sheer rock and scrub brush growing in the cracks. They’d be lucky if they could get ten feet up the wet rocks.

Up ahead, as they ran, Donovan could see an oval of open sky. The smell of smoke grew stronger and the heavy odor of sulfur filled the air. The sand and mud gave way to rocks, slick with moss and mud. As they neared the cliff, they slowed, walking carefully as they approached the precipice. Donovan grasped Eva by the hand, and with each step, she resisted. He glanced back to see terror filling her eyes.

“We need to get close to the edge,” Donovan said.

“I can’t,” Eva said as her knees started to buckle. She closed her eyes as if to blot out the sight of the drop-off.

Donovan put his arm around her waist and eased her forward. He could feel her entire body tremble, and he remembered her fear of being up in the plane. Being out in the open must be far worse for her, he thought. She was nearly paralyzed when he could finally see over the edge. Donovan gently picked her up and stepped up onto a rock that split the river; now they were higher than the surrounding riverbed, and its surface was dry. The drop was easily a hundred feet. At the bottom were huge boulders amid a shallow pool of still water. If they had to jump, they wouldn’t survive.

“Eva, we’re on a flat, dry rock. I need to set you down,” Donovan said as he carefully lowered her to her feet. She held on tightly as he pulled the radio out of his pocket. “Janie, this is Donovan. We’re as far as we can go.”

“Roger that, I’m five minutes away. We’ll plan to hoist you out.”

“We’ll be ready,” Donovan said.

“John, how far away is the lava?”

“You’ll see it shortly—it’s almost to the last bend in the river.”

Donovan snapped his head around as the first red-hot edge of the molten rock surged, expanding as it coursed down the gorge. As the lava relentlessly moved toward them, they were helpless. They were trapped. He pulled Eva close. They didn’t have much time. He decided at some point he’d jump, taking Eva with him, rather than burn to death.

Eva heard it first and opened her eyes, looking skyward. As Donovan turned, the helicopter came low and fast over the trees, swung steeply out into the valley, then pulled into a hover. Hanging nearly motionless in the sky, Janie guided the helicopter toward the face of the cliff, the hoist line already being lowered.

Donovan watched as the padded sling, looking impossibly small, swung back and forth from the cable. Janie moved sideways, inching the ring closer to where they stood. Donovan positioned himself as near to the edge as he dared. Rotor wash buffeted them both, making conversation impossible, and the ring hung out in space, ten feet away.

Behind him, instead of pulling away, Eva screamed and pressed herself up against his back. He turned and saw that the lava had picked up speed, now only thirty feet away. Vegetation along the banks of the gorge burst into flames. Looking at the molten rock seared his eyes; the heat was beginning to envelop them as if they were standing too close to a roaring bonfire.

Donovan turned and looked up as Janie banked the helicopter. The leverage she created swung the rescue harness even farther away, and then, just as Janie had planned, the harness reversed course and swung toward him.

“Eva, don’t move!” Donovan yelled as he freed himself from her grip, calculated the arc of the harness, then launched himself over the cliff out into space. His right arm threaded the sling, and his entire body jerked to a stop, swinging high above the valley floor. Instantly, he pumped his legs and used his weight to keep his inertia going, just like Abigail in her tire swing. He spun to face Eva as he was propelled back toward the cliff.

Eva, eyes wide and unblinking, was standing alone, bouncing up and down as the lava reached the rock. Donovan braced himself, swung in, reached around her waist, and plucked her from the ledge. Eva screamed as she was yanked from the rock and swung away from the lava, spinning outward into midair. Clutching him desperately, she buried her face into Donovan’s chest. He could feel her gasping as he locked his hands firmly around her and looked up at the helicopter.

Janie immediately banked the helicopter away to keep them from swinging back into the lava. Donovan breathed in the cool air as they gently spun above the valley. The river of lava was now a bright red-and-orange waterfall plunging over the edge of the cliff. He relished the rush of euphoria at still being alive.

Above him, Cesar began to winch them up toward the helicopter. As they reached the door, Cesar reached out, clutched the cable, and pulled them both into the cabin. He unhooked the hoist line and slammed the door shut.

Donovan lay on his back, spent. His breath came in huge gulps. Eva held him tightly. She sobbed tears of joy, and he pulled her close.

“Donovan!” Janie called out. “I’ve got Lauren on the radio. She needs to talk to you. She says it’s urgent.”

Donovan finished his second bottle of water and secured the empty container. Below them was Guatemala City. The airport was only ten minutes away, the
Galileo
was already on the ground. He’d spoken to Lauren shortly after Janie had rescued them. He wondered what could be so important. Cesar handed him a headset. He slid it on and found the transmit button. “Donovan here.”

“Hey, we just landed at Guatemala City. Vargas and his men have been here. He was demanding to know where his granddaughter was being held. He threatened Malcolm and Lillian at gunpoint. They had no choice but to tell Vargas where Stephanie had been taken. I think William and Stephanie are in danger, and you can get there faster than any of us.”

“What happened when you called William?” Donovan asked, as Eva began to look concerned and motioned to Cesar for a headset of her own.

“Straight to voice mail,” Lauren replied.