Rain of Fire (43 page)

Sonny smiled and flicked ash from his cigar. “I like it.”

“Are you both crazy?”

“Come on, Larry,” Carol said. “How am I going to do this without you?”

“Take Sonny. He knows how to operate a camera.”

The newly minted station manager seethed. “I’ve got to run things from here.” He waved a stubby arm. “Look, it’s your job to cover Yellowstone, has been for twenty years.”

“Twenty years ago I didn’t have Donna and Joey.” He felt a wave of pride, for his hardworking gamin wife and for Joey, a bookworm who excelled in school as compensation for not being able to play sports.

Carol tried again. “I’ve got Louisa in high school, but I’m not going to miss the story of a lifetime.”

“We’ve all got to pick our priorities,” Larry said.

Sonny stood up to his full five-foot-one. “So pick this. If you don’t have a job, how will you take care of your family?”

Larry pushed up and towered over both Carol and Sonny. “Are you threatening me?”

Carol stepped between the two men. Her hand felt light on Larry’s arm, but it restrained him. “We were in dangerous places during the ‘88 fires and got out just fine. Don’t go off half-cocked over this and lose your health insurance.”

L
ong past daybreak, Wyatt drove Kyle’s Mercedes into Gardiner, Montana. He’d taken the long route around the northwest corner of the park, watching for patches of accumulated snow and black ice while Kyle slept.

He tried to get back the euphoric feeling he’d had when she took him into her bed, a sensation of losing the boundaries between himself and her. But Nick’s call had catapulted him back to reality and made him question the wisdom of laying his feelings all out. What chance did he really have against a flashy globetrotter?

Crossing the deserted Yellowstone River Bridge, he caught a glimpse of Alicia’s townhouse. Her Navigator was gone and so, he assumed, was she. An image of her big liquid eyes and generous mouth failed to move him; she’d been right to leave him.

He glanced at Kyle who was rubbing her eyes. A crease on her cheek marked where she’d lain on her jacket.

She looked at him and smiled.

Confidence renewed, he reached to smooth the fold in her skin.

With a broader grin, Kyle shoved her coat into the floorboards and raised the seatback. “Did the Pied Piper come through?”

“Must have.” Only one moving car was in sight and the buildings appeared dark inside despite the dreary morning.

Wyatt pulled the Mercedes up in front of a surprisingly open service station. “I could use some coffee.”

Inside the old-fashioned place with a mechanic’s bay alongside, he greeted a big red-faced man in work coveralls. “Hey, Landers. Still here?”

“Could say the same about you.”

“Got things to do in Mammoth,” Wyatt said, “but you ought to clear out.”

Landers shook his blond head. “Everybody ran like rabbits yesterday. Now this morning those earthquakes have plumb stopped.”

“Stopped?” The last time they’d seen the park records, the rumbling in the earth had been almost constant and on the increase.

Landers put a hand flat on his linoleum counter. “Steady as a rock.”

Wyatt couldn’t believe that. Tremors must still be going on at a level lower than a person could detect.

Thankfully, it was fifty miles to Nez Perce Peak.

Kyle went to the ladies room and washed up, feeling as though her eyes were full of sand. Yet, as she smoothed her tangled hair and twisted it into a thick braid, she couldn’t help but be heartened by the memory of Wyatt’s fingers combing through it.

He hadn’t said he loved her; just that Alicia had come up with it. But with a smile, she realized he would never have uttered the word without meaning it.

If someone had asked her a week ago to name the people she loved, she would have begun with Stanton and Leila and then … she would have had to name Wyatt. All those days and nights of working together had bred the trust that allowed her to confide in him about Hebgen Lake, before she ever realized they’d be lovers.

In the seconds that followed, she felt a quiet adjustment inside her. Of course, she loved him, had loved him for years as her most cherished friend. It had just expanded like the fullness in her chest, the polar opposite of the emptiness she would feel at his loss. Franny had been wise to teach her that litmus test.

When she came out to the car, Wyatt had bought her coffee and doctored it with cream. Taking the wheel, she drove them past the park maintenance barns and up to the kiosk at the north entrance. A striped boom blocked the highway and she stopped.

“Let me handle this.” Wyatt got out and walked up to the small building.

“Hey, Teri,” Kyle heard him say say to the small ebony-haired woman who alone manned the border into the park. She didn’t look large enough to enforce anything, but the look on her face said she’d throw a drunk and disorderly onto the hood of a car and cuff him in a heartbeat.

“We must get to Mammoth,” Wyatt said.

“Off limits.” Teri wore a .45 on her hip.

Kyle couldn’t believe this. She’d been certain no one would question Wyatt’s right to break the evacuation order. Thinking to help, she shut off the engine and got out.

“Come on, Teri,” Wyatt said. “If it’s safe for you to be here …”

“We drew straws for the duty, everybody who didn’t have family.” Her jaw squared. “Maybe the National Guard will take over later if they have to call them out, but right now it’s just me.” She looked thoughtful. “You know they only left one person because they didn’t think anybody would want back into the park.”

“Teri, you have to let us in,” Wyatt insisted. “This is important.”

The young ranger’s expression softened, but she stood her ground. “I’m sorry, Wyatt.”

Kyle stepped forward. “I’m Dr. Kyle Stone of the Utah Institute. You might have seen me with Wyatt on TV?”

Teri’s eyes widened. “I didn’t see the show, but they’ve been playing parts of it over and over on
Billings Live Eye.”

“Then you know how serious the situation is. Now Wyatt and I have to access some very important data from his computer in Mammoth.”

Teri spoke to Wyatt. “They said on TV she got fired. She was wrong about scaring everybody. They all ran and this morning everything’s fine.” Her slight quaver conveyed how badly she wanted to believe that.

“It’s not fine,” Wyatt said. “All of us are sitting on top of the teakettle’s whistle.”

Kyle tried again. “Right now, you’re stuck here not knowing what might happen. How about you let us get to Wyatt’s computer and we promise to call you … if it looks like you need to clear out?”

Teri looked at the empty town. A moment more of weighing duty versus common sense and she offered Wyatt her hand. “Deal.”

Kyle guided the low-slung Mercedes carefully up the dirt track into the park. Unspoken between her and Wyatt was the worry that Nick had carried out his plan and left at dawn for the backcountry. Although the arctic front was still on its way, the intermittent snow showers had subsided, leaving a weather window for a helicopter.

The closer they drew to Mammoth, the more she dreaded finding out.

They came down the hill into a ghost town. The hotel parking lot lay deserted. No lights brightened the dull morning in the Headquarters or Admin buildings. Not even the local elk were on the lawns.

When she pulled up in front of the Resource Center, she was surprised to see smoke issuing from its chimney. “Maybe that’s Nick.”

“I hope so,” Wyatt agreed. “He’ll know what’s been happening since last night.”

Inside, Radford Bullis greeted them from his corner office. “Thought I’d stay until you got here.”

“Who said we were coming?” Wyatt asked.

“Darden.”

Kyle looked down the hall toward Wyatt’s dark office. “Where is he?”

“Eagle Air from Gardiner flew him up this morning. Guy’s got brass balls. He had a moon suit flown in from USGS and winter gear in case he had to hike out. He said he’d call from his satellite phone to Wyatt’s office at noon.”

“I wish he had waited for us,” she said.

“You got a death wish, too?” Radford misunderstood, thinking she had wanted to go. He stared at the burning logs in the fireplace, his bushy brows knitted. “I’ve got Polly and our boys down in Gardiner. I was going to head up to Bozeman with them, but since the quakes have tapered off, maybe I should stay.”

“No, Radford,” Kyle said. “Twice now we’ve had major events preceded by a period of seismic quiet. If anything, I’d say it’s ominous.”

“Take care of your family,” Wyatt urged.

Kyle felt numb, as they talked about the impossible in calm tones.

Radford started to go and turned back. “Colin Gruy is flying back to USGS from Sakhalin today. When things settle down, we’ll have to sort out things with you and Hollis.” He shook his head. “Stanton was always right about you two needing a referee.”

Radford clapped Wyatt on the back and his broad bulk disappeared through the doors of the arctic entry.

She watched him go. “I’m not sure that was a vote of confidence.”

Wyatt led the way to his office, started his computer, and brought up the Institute website. Kyle watched over his shoulder as he typed in his username and password, and hit the return key.

A dialog box declared, “Your password is either invalid or has expired.”

“Shit!” Kyle kicked the desk leg with her hiking boot.

“That can’t be right.” Wyatt peered intently through his glasses. “Nick was using this account last night.”

“Hollis knew you’d bring me here to get into the system.”

“You’re probably right.” Three failed attempts to log on caused the site to lock Wyatt out.

She jumped up and paced a narrow oval between the desk and the credenza. If only Radford hadn’t left, maybe he could call Hollis and talk sense into him.

Wyatt was already on his feet. “Radford’s cell number was on my phone I lost in the canyon. I’ll get it from his office.”

Kyle followed him into the lobby. Radford’s door was locked.

Wyatt turned to Iniki’s desk. “She should have all the numbers.”

He tugged, but the desk drawers didn’t budge.

“What about somebody who can pull rank on Hollis?” Kyle suggested. “Janet Bolido?”

“The brass keep their cell numbers under wraps.”

She continued to cast about. “We’ll call Colin, no, he’s on the plane.”

Her hands made into fists. She felt like going back into Wyatt’s office and kicking his computer, or better yet kicking Hollis’s ass all the way to Sakhalin. She’d never forgive him if anything happened to Nick.

N
ick studied Nez Perce Peak from the Saddle Valley. His view was unobstructed through bare trees left standing from the fires of ‘88. He’d had the helicopter land in the divide downslope from the cabin along the Saddle Valley Fault and stowed his equipment and camping gear at seismograph station four.

Using binoculars and a topographic map, Nick plotted out areas he wanted to stay clear of. Any of the reentrants that led down from the peak could be potential paths for a
nuée ardente
, a pyroclastic avalanche of gas and particles that would seek the path of least resistance. You got caught by one of those and ash would plug your mouth and nose until you suffocated, unless the air was superheated, in which case a single searing gasp would destroy your lungs. He had observed one of the deadly and fascinating events at the Soufrière Hills volcano on Montserrat in the West Indies back in 1977. High on the slope when the nuée rolled out of the crater, he’d had no place to run. With a pounding heart, he had raised his Nikon and watched the roiling cloud come at him through the lens. As flashes of St. Elmo’s fire illuminated the clouds above the crater, the electrical charge in the air from particle friction stood Nick’s hair on end.

The nuée came on, slowing on the broader areas and leaping down the narrower gullies. Expecting to be burned, buffeted off his feet, Nick snapped photos as fast as his auto-wind would cycle. If the camera made it, he hoped the community of volcano lovers would see the images as a fitting memorial.

Through the lens, he watched the cloud approach. The mass billowed over him and cut his visibility to zero, the stench of sulfur everywhere. Hunkering down, he waited for death. No time for regrets or what ifs.

To his amazement, he realized the cloud was composed of fine dust and surprisingly cool. Within moments, it lifted.

Hardly able to credit his fortune, he blinked grit from his eyes and realized the main body of the flow had passed around a hundred yards from him.

His pictures were spectacular.

The quake in the canyon had been another close call, but not a signal to run from the mountain as Kyle had imagined. In his mind’s eye, he saw her, slim and lovely, and tasted regret that he couldn’t lead two lives, one with her and the other in the field.

With his traverse planned to the top, Nick set out walking. Using a portable gravimeter, a million times more sensitive than the average bathroom scale, he measured gravity variations as the mountain lifted from magma’s upward press. The instrument could detect an inch of elevation difference by measuring the gravitational field to the center of the earth, nearly 4,000 miles below. Along with the gravimeter box, the size and weight of a car battery, he also carried silica tubes in his pack to collect gases on the crest.