Eruption (7 page)

“Stop!” Cindy shouted.

Tomás slammed on the brakes.

“There are no tire tracks in front of us,” she said in Spanish.

Tomás looked through the windshield and nodded. He pointed at her sat phone.

Cindy looked down at the phone's screen. “No satellite signal.”

Tomás put the truck into reverse and turned it around. A couple miles down the road, they found the disturbed ash. They got out for a closer look and found the tire tracks going back in the direction Chase had come from.

“Footprints,” Tomás said.

“And animal prints,” Cindy added.

“
Muy pequeño
.”

“Very small,” Cindy agreed.

They got into the truck and followed the tracks all the way back to the slide. There was a man sitting on the rubble, wearing Chase's respirator and helmet. Sitting next to him was Chase's go bag. Tomás was out of the truck in a flash. The man got up and tried to run away but fell. Tomás yanked him
to his feet, slapped the helmet off of his head, and tore the respirator off his face.

“I think his leg is broken!” Cindy shouted.

Tomás either didn't understand or didn't care. He dragged the blubbering man over to the edge of the road. The quad was smashed against a tree thirty feet below them. Lying next to it was another man.

“
¿Muerto?
” Tomás asked.

“
Si
,” the man said. He looked at Cindy. “My friend is dead.”

“So you speak English,” Cindy said with absolutely no sympathy for him. “Where is
our
friend?”

“We left the boy on the road.”

“Alive?”

“Yes.”

“He had better be.”

Tomás marched the man to the truck and pushed him into the bed, ignoring his protests.

“We go,” he told Cindy.

Cindy ran to the passenger door and jumped in. She was afraid that in his present mood, Tomás would leave her behind.

Tomás stepped on the gas, but they didn't get very far. A hundred yards down the road, the right front tire exploded.

 

Chase walked up the road in the direction of Lago with Pepe at his feet, stirring up tiny puffs of ash with each dainty step. He was no longer limping.

Where are Tomás and Cindy? What's taking them so long?

It had been over an hour since he had told them it was clear.

Maybe Tomás found a better way up and is in front of me. But where are the tire tracks?

The only tracks in front of him were the thieves' boot prints reminding him how stupid he'd been. The pounding in his head had diminished to a dull thud, but his anger had not. He came around yet another curve in the winding ash-covered road and stopped. In front of him was a crack in the earth that ran across the road and up the mountain as far as he could see. White steam billowed out of the crack. It was as if the ground had been unzipped, leaving a gap thirty feet across. In the middle of the gap were two upended trucks with the Rossi Brothers' Circus logo painted on their sides. One truck had a camper on the back. The other truck had been pulling a trailer, which was now a twisted wreck. Scattered around the smashed trailer were at least a dozen dog crates. The wire-mesh doors were all hanging open. Chase looked inside one of the crates and saw what looked like dried blood. There was a second trailer just off the road. Inside were four dead ponies.

Pepe barked.

“I hear you,” Chase said. “You were lucky to get away with an injured paw.” He looked at the trucks. The passenger's and driver's doors were open, just like the crates. “Looks like everyone got out.” He scratched Pepe's ears. “This explains
how you got up here, but it doesn't explain
why
you were up here, or where everyone went.”

The trucks formed a bridge across the gap, which the circus people must have used to get to the other side.

And there's no doubt the thieves used the same bridge to get to my side
, Chase thought. He was still angry, but looking at the steam coming out of the crack, he couldn't really blame them. The mountain was coming apart. The two men had been in a panic, with a long, dangerous walk ahead of them. He just wished they had left the go bag with the sat phone and his water. He was thirsty and he was sure the others were wondering why he hadn't checked in or answered the phone.

Chase looked down the road where he had come from. The curve was sharp. With the ash flying around, there was a good chance Tomás wouldn't see the crack before he crashed into it. Chase had to warn them. He thought about walking back and flagging them down. But what if they didn't drive up the road? What if something had happened to the truck? A flat tire, mechanical breakdown, getting mired in the soft ground … The possibilities were endless.

He looked up at the sky. It was getting darker, and it wasn't just the ash. The sun was getting lower. It would be pitch dark in a couple of hours. He couldn't wrap himself in toilet paper like they had the air filters. His eyes were swollen, his throat was sore. He needed water. He needed shelter. And he needed both of them soon.

You're no good to anybody if you're dead … including yourself.

Another of his father's favorite sayings. He wondered if that one was a Navy SEAL deal too. The SEAL motto Cindy had told him about was certainly holding up. The only easy day
was
yesterday. The hardest thing they'd done the day before was move a lion and slap a bear on the butt, and it was Momma Rossi who had slapped the bear.

“Guess I better get my own butt in gear,” Chase said.

Pepe barked and ran into one of the crates.

“I'm not carrying you in one of those, but I will carry you across the junkyard bridge so you don't fall into the steaming crevasse.” He squatted down. “Let's go.”

Pepe gave him another bark, but didn't budge.

Chase got an idea. He reached into the crate and pulled Pepe out.

“I need this.”

He picked up Pepe's crate and a couple others, then jogged back down to the spot where the curve straightened out. It was roughly thirty yards from the crack. He came back and picked up a few more crates, then returned for a third and fourth load.

“Fifteen crates,” he said. “We're going to build a pyramid.”

Chase set out five crates in the middle of the road, then four on top of the five, then three on top of the four, then two on top of the three, topping it off with Pepe's crate, which was the smallest.

Pepe did a backflip and landed on the first tier.

“Nice,” Chase said. “But this isn't a circus prop. It's a stop sign. The truck will have to slow down as it's coming around
the curve. Tomás will stop when he sees the crates, or he'll run into them. Either way, he won't fall through the crack.”

Pepe stared at him.

“I can't believe I'm explaining this to a poodle.”

He picked Pepe up and started toward the crack in the earth.

“I'm sorry about your friends,” Mark said.

“Thanks,” Doug said. “I guess this is the end of the Rossi Brothers' Circus. No cat act. No elephant act.” He looked off into the distance. “Maybe no owner. We all knew it was coming, but we had no idea it was going to end this way.”

Doug was smiling, but it was clear from his voice and the expression beneath the greasepaint that he was anything but happy. When he'd heard about the elephants and cats and his friends, he had nearly collapsed. John and Mark had to help him into the tent where he could sit down.

John was out trying to make a phone call, Nicole was in the opposite corner of the tent talking quietly to the other circus people, leaving Mark to look after the bereaved clown. He didn't mind. He liked clowns.

“What's the deal with the camera?” Doug asked.

Mark explained the last forty-eight hours as best as he could.

“The Rossis lost their house!” Doug said. “We didn't even hear about the hurricane. Does Mrs. Rossi know?”

“I don't think so. We haven't been able to get in touch with anyone down here to let them know.”

“You're making a documentary about this John dude?”

“I'm just the camera guy. My producer, Cindy, is making the documentary. But it's a safe bet you'll be in it.”

“Clown on a volcano,” Doug said.

Mark smiled. “Something like that.”

“Might be my last performance.”

John came into the tent, looking worried. Nicole saw him enter and ran over to join Mark and Doug as he walked up to them.

“I spoke to Cindy, but the conversation was garbled. The ash is playing havoc with the satellite signal. She said she completely lost the signal for a while. From what I understood, a couple of men jacked Chase's quad and he's missing. Tomás found the thieves. They had totaled the quad, and one of them is dead. The other guy has a broken leg. To top it off, Tomás had a blowout, which caused some other damage to the truck besides the flat. Cindy's walking ahead trying to find Chase while Tomás tries to fix the truck. It sounds like the ash is a lot worse up there than it is down here.”

“What do we do?” Nicole asked.

“
We
do nothing,” John said. “You and Mark are going to stay here. I'm going back up to find Chase.”

“I'm going with you,” Nicole said.

John shook his head. “You'll be safer here. I'm not going back the same way we came. That would take too long. I've figured out a way of going over the top. Or close to the top.
I'll get the truck up as far as I can, then head out on foot or on the quad to Lago. There's only one road going in. If I get there before Tomás and Cindy, I'll backtrack along the road.”

“I'm still going with you,” Nicole said.

“Sorry,” John said.

“My mother and sister are in Lago. It's the reason I came all the way down here.”

“It's why Cindy and I came down here too,” Mark said. “Who's to say it's any safer here than it is up at the village? Stranded is stranded.”

“Are you saying that you want to go too?” John asked.

“Not particularly, but Cindy would probably kill me if I didn't.” Mark smiled. “Besides, you're lucky. Bad things happen all around you, but you always come through without a scratch. You're the Teflon man. Nothing seems to stick to you, so I'm sticking
with
you.”

“You're forgetting that if we have to use the quad, there's only room for two people,” John said.

“If it comes to that, I'll flip you for it,” Mark said.

“What about my luck?”

“I'll take my chances.”

“What about us?” Doug asked.

“I spoke to the authorities in Mexico City. They know you're stranded here. There's a road crew on the way to repair the bridge and clear the slide.”

“How long is that going to take?” Doug asked.

“Too long,” John admitted. “But I think I have that covered as well. A friend of mine in the States is trying to get
permission to bring a rescue team in with choppers. As soon as they get the okay, they'll mobilize quickly. It won't take them more than a few hours to get here.”

“How'd you arrange that?”

“My friend is in charge of the outfit.”

“A military outfit?” Nicole asked.

“Definitely military.” John looked at Doug. “The best thing you can do while you're waiting is to set up a landing zone. You'll have to move some of these trucks. They'll fly in and ferry you to the other side of the bridge, where you'll be driven to Mexico City.”

“What about the animals?” Doug asked.

“That's up to Delgado.”

“Delgado?” Mark asked.

“Commander Raul Delgado of the U.S. Navy SEALs.” John smiled. “He reminds me of you, actually. Constantly whining and complaining, but he's the best operative I know. His priority is going to be getting the people out of here, not the animals, but you never know with Raul. He's done some crazy things in his life. He might like the idea of evacuating lions and tigers and bears.” John looked at Nicole and Mark. “Time to go.”

 

It was time for Chase to go. He put the dusty poodle down his shirt and started across the junkyard bridge. The short crossing turned out to be a lot harder than he was expecting. The wrecks were hot with steam and slick with ash. And
Pepe's sharp nails scratching his stomach and chest as the little dog tried to get out wasn't helping matters.

“Knock it off! Unless you want to fall off into the bottomless pit.”

Chase knew it wasn't bottomless, but it was deep. He couldn't see the bottom. He got down on his hands and knees, afraid he would slip off if he stayed on his feet. As he crawled onto the camper roof, the pile suddenly shifted with a loud screech. He froze and held his breath.

This is it.

The screeching stopped. The twisted metal held. Chase breathed.

Forward or backward?

He looked behind him. The distance was just about equal.

Dead center.

He didn't like the sound of that.

In the middle. Halfway. Better.

Pepe had stopped struggling. It was as if he sensed the danger. Whatever the reason, Chase was grateful. It would make his next move easier.

Whatever that move is going to be.

There wasn't enough room to turn around safely. He'd have to crawl backward to get to where he'd come from. The other problem was that when the camper shifted, the top had settled at a steep angle. He was hanging on to the edge to keep himself from slipping into the crack.

“Just go!” he shouted.

He crawled forward, feeling the pile tremble every time he put a hand or a knee down. The far side seemed like it was a football field away.

If there's another earthquake … If the crack widens … If I slip …

Chase knew better than to think this way.
Fear brings disaster from the inside out.
His father had told him this a thousand times.
Focus on the moment. Concentrate on survival. Think about what's right, not what's wrong. Take advantage of it.

Chase wished his father was there to explain what was “right” about this. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally reached the other side of the junkyard bridge, but he was far from safe. The edge of the road was several feet above him. He would have to stand on the tilted truck hood, reach above his head, and pull himself up. He got to his feet very slowly, looking for something solid to grab on to if the pile started to go. The camper rocked back and forth. Pepe began struggling again.

“Can't have that.”

He reached into his shirt and pulled him out.

“Sorry.”

He tossed the poodle up over the ledge. Pepe landed with a soft thud and a whimper. A second later, his head appeared over the edge and he started barking indignantly.

“No need to thank me,” Chase said.

He reached up and grabbed the overhang of broken road. Pepe licked his fingers.

“That's not helpful.”

He pulled himself up, relieved to have his feet off the unstable camper, and even happier to have climbed onto the road. He lay on his back, catching his breath, with Pepe perched on his chest.