Sedulity 2: Aftershock (Sedulity Saga) (3 page)

Fox Rusher added a horrifying narrative to the footage.
“With nearly all of the roads blocked and
highways destroyed by the earthquake, millions of people are heading inland on
foot. There is no organized evacuation. Emergency services are overwhelmed.
Whatever orderly evacuation plans the government intended to enact have failed.
It’s pure chaos down there. Looting, violence, and other forms of lawlessness
are rampant. This would already qualify as the most horrific natural disaster
in the history of our nation, but we have been told that worse is yet to come.”
Fox paused, choking on his words as the video feed from the helicopter continued
to display images straight out of biblical Armageddon.

“Most of the people down in the city,
everyone not in shock and still able to move, are all heading for the hills. I
have no idea how far inland the waves will reach, but I fear that many of those
unfortunate people will not escape. We can also see that some people have
chosen to exploit the crisis by looting and committing acts of violence. If
it’s any consolation, I’m fairly certain that they are sealing their own fate.
Those who stop to loot, rob, or rape and murder others will not make it out
alive.”
Fox’s voice
took on a hard edge when he made that prediction.

“Fox,”
the Washington anchor interjected,
“is there no hope of rescue or escape for
those who can’t reach high ground?”

“Some people have decided to evacuate
vertically,”
Fox
said.
“Most of the high rise structures
in the LA Basin withstood the earthquake and remain standing, although all of
them show signs of damage. Quite a few people are trying to reach the upper
floors and rooftops of those buildings. Of course the power is out across the entire
region, so they are faced with a long climb upstairs. Nevertheless, some experts
have endorsed the option of vertical evacuation for those who don’t have time
to reach actual high ground before the tsunamis arrive.”

“That sounds like a viable option,”
the New York anchor said hopefully.

“Perhaps,”
Fox replied.
“I wonder how high the waves will be and how much structural damage
those buildings suffered in the earthquake. Some of them might be ready to
topple even without being hit by a tsunami. On the other hand, one hopeful sign
is the arrival of military helicopters. Over the past few hours we have seen
dozens of them arrive over the city. They are setting down on helipads atop
those tall buildings to pick people up, fly them to high ground, and then
return to collect more. It’s a valiant effort, but I’m afraid they won’t be
able to rescue more than a few thousand of the millions trapped in this city.”

“Are the helicopters picking people
up anywhere else? Or just from the rooftops?”

“Only the rooftops now,”
Fox said evenly.
“At first they tried landing in parking lots
and open fields, but that turned out badly. Hundreds of people rushed
helicopters that could only carry a dozen or so. A couple of Blackhawks crashed
when the pilots tried to take off while being mobbed by desperate evacuees. In
several cases the helicopter crews opened fire on the crowds in self-defense.
After that the military decided to only land on rooftop helipads where they can
control the size of the crowds better.”

“That’s horrible!”
the Washington anchor chimed in.
“I suppose their plan makes sense, in a way,
but I doubt that many of the injured or infirm residents of the city will be
able to make it onto those rooftops. Will they?”

“No, they won’t,”
Fox confirmed.
“This is triage on a massive scale. I’m afraid it comes down to
survival of the fittest, smartest, and luckiest. At this point, if the tsunamis
are as big as we’ve been told, I’m afraid that only a small fraction of the
people in this city will survive. Residents of inland suburbs and those close
to the Santa Monica Mountains have a better chance of reaching high ground. The
rest? God help them, because there isn’t much else that can save them now.”

*****

Hank Donner sat in the ship’s theater nursing a flask of Jack
Daniels and watching the horrific news unfold on the big projection screen. It
was hard to grasp the enormity of the disaster engulfing the world, harder
still to believe that the ship had survived a near miss by an asteroid impact
that could unleash that scale of destruction.
 
Hank had been inside the theater when the blast wave and tsunami struck
the
Sedulity
. He had felt but not
seen the awesome power of the impact. Witnessing the tsunami destroy Hawaii and
then Panama on TV had been more than shocking. The big Texan had felt faint
when he realized that the ship he was aboard had actually ridden up and over
the same monster waves that were now obliterating cities and tossing less
fortunate vessels around like toys.
 
He
offered a silent prayer of thanks as he took another swig of whiskey and
contemplated the catastrophe unfolding around the world.
 

The reports coming out of Los Angeles were almost worse than seeing
tsunamis wipe out entire cities. Mercifully, the waves engulfed their victims
swiftly, hiding most of the pain and suffering within their raging waters.
Seeing panic sweep across a major American city, already paralyzed by an
earthquake and waiting helplessly for the other shoe to drop, was enough to
shock even the likes of Hank Donner. He hadn’t bargained on any of this when he
booked passage aboard the
Sedulity
to
Australia. This voyage was supposed to be a rewarding mix of business and
pleasure. The asteroid strike came as a rude surprise. During the initial
crisis Hank had been more outraged than awestruck, more offended than afraid,
and more selfish than compassionate towards the plight of his fellow
passengers, let alone the rest of the world. His attitudes were now tempered by
a dawning appreciation for the true magnitude of the catastrophic events
unfolding aboard the ship and across the planet. Hank now realized that most of
the things he had taken for granted only yesterday no longer applied.

Already Hank had detected a noticeable change in attitude
among the crew towards the ship’s passengers. Most of them still appeared
committed to preserving the safety of the ship and all aboard her, but they
were no longer as eager to serve the passengers and satisfy their every whim. Hank
had first noticed the trend when a waiter refused to fetch a cocktail. When
Hank complained to the officer in charge the man implied that Hank better get
used to it and start pulling his own weight. Upon reflection, it made sense.
The passengers couldn’t expect to continue being pampered by the crew in the
wake of a global disaster, especially one in which many of the crew had
probably lost their homes and loved ones as well. Hank found that idea disturbing,
especially when he expanded the concept to include social interactions in other
parts of the world.

Although Hank scoffed at most social niceties and was often
considered to be rude, even offensive by some standards, as a gambler and
oilman he knew the value of money and general societal norms. Playing by the
rules was important, but he feared the rules had changed. Sitting in the ship’s
theater, witnessing much of the world as he knew it get washed away, Hank found
himself wondering how much of the civilized standards they all took for granted
would survive the coming hours, days, and weeks.

Chapter 2

The wave approached Central America
from the southwest at more than 300 miles per hour, slowing and growing taller
when it reached the continental shelf. The twenty mile wide Gulf of Fonseca was
shared by Nicaragua to the south, Honduras to the East, and El Salvador on the
northern shore. It was also home to two of the largest volcanoes on the Pacific
coast of Central America, making it a popular destination for eco-tourists,
earth scientists, and geology students. One such group had just completed an
arduous hike to the caldera crater atop the Cosiguina Volcano on the northwest
tip of Nicaragua at the mouth of the gulf. They had been out of contact with
the outside world for several days and were unaware of the asteroid impact, or
the approaching danger. However, a few hours earlier they had felt a strong
earthquake that shook the rainforest covering the mountainside, driving the
local howler monkeys into hysterics.
 

Two professors leading the tour
assured the students that earthquakes were quite common in this part of Central
America and nothing to worry about. Nevertheless, their confidence began to waver
when they spotted steam rising above the trees from the top of the volcano
above them. Approaching the rim they were told to expect a beautiful little
lake filling the bottom of the crater. What they did not expect was to see it
boiling and spitting clouds of steam.
 

The teachers tried to calm their
students, though couldn’t help exchanging worried glances. The volcano of Cosiguina
was not extinct, but had been dormant for more than a century. In 1835 it had
erupted violently, transforming the top of the volcano into a 500 meter deep
crater. Giant pieces of rock had been hurled into the Gulf of Fonseca where
they formed new islands in the shallow sea. Volcanic clouds from that eruption
had covered Central America, raining ash as far as Mexico City a thousand miles
away. Those eruptions were violent, but relatively short lived, with the
volcano returning to a dormant state in 1859. By 1938 the bottom of the crater
had filled with a picturesque lake and eventually became an ecotourism
destination. Nevertheless, the group that stood at the rim of the crater on
this fateful day was soon worried that they might have chosen the wrong time to
visit this slumbering giant.

 
The professors instructed the geology students to take photographs of
the steaming lake and surrounding area before organizing their descent. There was
no other indication of an imminent eruption, so the crater might simply be
venting thermal steam or releasing a minor lava flow underwater. It was
certainly an unusual and unexpected sight, but those were often the most
interesting events to study and record. The group spread out around the rim of
the crater, many using smartphones and digital cameras to snap pictures of the
boiling lake 500 meters below, others turning to grab scenic views of the
surrounding area.

The rim of the Cosiguina Volcano
crater stood 2,800 feet above sea level, offering a commanding view of the
whole Gulf of Fonseca. The visitors could look down towards the base of the
mountain they had climbed and see the Nicaraguan fishing village and marina
where they had spent the previous night. Those looking east across the shallow
gulf saw the hills and river valleys of Honduras, with the big island of Tigre
and several smaller volcanoes in the foreground. El Salvador was also visible
to the north. However, those who glanced west, out over the Pacific Ocean, were
the first to sound a true alarm.

Shocked exclamations and pointed
fingers drew everyone’s attention out to sea where something strange and
sinister formed on the horizon. From atop the volcano the students and
professors could see for many miles on that clear afternoon and what they saw
sparked fear and confusion. The ocean was rising up into a moving mountain
range that rapidly approached the shore. One of the professors blurted,
“Tsunami!” Then he paused, speechless, to shake his head in disbelief that any
wave could possibly be that enormous. It stretched the whole length of the
horizon and grew taller as it approached land, casting a shadow across the flat
sea before sucking the water up into the face of the wave. Far to the south,
the eastern end of the massive wave was already hitting the coast of Nicaragua,
sweeping inland as a moving mountain of whitewater, while the rest of the wave
continued to build and roll northeast on a collision course with the Gulf of
Fonseca.

The stunned observers atop the
volcano soon realized that although the wave grew to incredible height, it was
not as tall as the volcano. They could actually see over the first wave and
discern several slightly smaller walls of water following it. The smaller waves
caught up to the big one when it slowed and piled up higher on the continental
shelf. The combined height of the waves topped two thousand feet when it
smashed into Cape Cosiguina. Many of the students used their smartphones to
record videos of the monster wave sweeping over the coast, crossing miles of jungle,
and climbing towards them up the face of the volcano. They held their breath as
they waited to see if it would reach them at the summit. It would be close.

One of the professors focused instead
on the portion of the wave that swept past the cape and into the shallow Gulf
of Fonseca, where it grew even larger. It crashed into the southwestern tip of
El Salvador and the mouth of the gulf focused the wave, magnifying its
destructive force. A moving mountain of water swept over the scattered islands
without pause, enveloping the whole west coast of Honduras. A portion of the
focused wave slammed into Zacate Grande, a slightly smaller sister volcano of
Cosiguina, with a splash that rose thousands of feet into the air while the
rest of the wave surged past it in a deluge that swept dozens of miles up the
Rio Negro Valley. A smaller wave surge, only a thousand feet tall, swept around
the Cosiguina Peninsula to wipe away the Nicaraguan town of Potosi and dozens
of little fishing villages before meeting more water pouring across the
peninsula and obliterating the shrimp and lobster aqua-farms lining the
southern half of the gulf.

Only a few of those on the peak of
Cosiguina paid any attention to the destruction of everything else in the gulf.
Most focused instead on the wall of whitewater threatening their own
lives.
 
The wave swept past either side of
the volcano at more than half its height, but where it hit the mountain the
water exploded uphill with the power of half an ocean behind it. Some of the
students screamed in terror, yet many of them kept taking pictures with their
phones and cameras. It defied logic to see a wall of churning water rushing
up
the side of a mountain. Yet up it
came, accompanied by a cacophony of destruction in the rainforest it overran.
Howler monkeys howled before being engulfed, flocks of birds shrieked as they
took flight, towering trees fell into the flood, and all of it was drowned out
by the roaring water rushing up the side of the volcano.

Most of the students were spread out along
the southern rim of the crater, facing the wave. Some of them were frozen in
fear. The rest turned and ran around the crater towards the eastern side of the
volcano. The rising water slowed its ascent at around the 2,500 foot level. By
the time it passed 2,600 feet the majority of the raging torrent began parting
to flow around the mountain. Nevertheless, a churning wall of whitewater,
though diminished, continued to climb towards the summit of the volcano.

The wave was still several meters
high when it crested the summit and swept a dozen terrified students off their
feet. They screamed and flailed when the water carried them over the rim of the
crater to plummet more than 1,500 feet to their deaths. Some of them bounced
off the crater walls on the way down, mercifully losing consciousness. Others
were launched into a freefall towards the boiling lake far below.

The professors and surviving students
stood transfixed by the sight of the ocean sweeping over the top of the volcano
and pouring into the crater in front of them. It only lasted for a few seconds
before the rest of the wave receded down the mountainside, but everyone who
witnessed it was certain the vision would stay with them for the rest of their
lives. They had no idea how right they were.

 
Deep below the crater a plug of hardened lava
that had held the volcano in check for more than 150 years was destabilized when
the Pacific Plate moved and pressed up against the much smaller Cocos Plate. The
earthquake earlier in the day and the boiling lake had indeed been indications
of more to come. Timing of the arrival of the monster tsunami was coincidental
to the looming volcanic eruption, although both were caused by the asteroid
impact. The people clustered atop the Cosiguina Volcano knew none of this. At
that moment they were the only survivors within miles of the Gulf of Fonseca, feeling
grateful and relieved to have escaped the water, but that would not last long.

Less than a minute after the wave hit
the volcano, while those who survived were gazing out over the devastated Gulf
of Fonseca, watching the flood waters continue to advance deep into the Rio
Negro Valley, the ground began to rumble and shake. Another earthquake seemed
almost tame compared to what they had just endured, but this one was different.
The shaking increased. The lake below, swollen and cooled by the wave only
moments before, began to bubble and steam more violently than ever. Chunks of
rock broke away from the crater walls. The survivors’ relief quickly returned
to terror and they turned to flee the rim of the volcano. It was far too late
for that.
 

The eruption of the Cosiguina Volcano
was enormous. In a repeat of the 1835 event the giant plug below the crater was
forced up from beneath the lake. It was easily blown out of the 500 meter deep
crater on a high pressure pillar of lava, ash, and superheated gases. The
students and professors on the rim of the crater were vaporized within a second
of the detonation that launched the plug out into the gulf.
 
Anyone within a dozen or more miles of the
volcano would have been killed by the blast wave and pyroclastic flows, if they
hadn’t already been wiped out by the tsunami. A giant cloud of dust and ash
rose into the stratosphere, darkening the sky across most of Central America. The
dust would eventually combine with massive storm clouds generated by cubic
miles of evaporated sea water from the asteroid impact to accelerate climate change
in ways nobody could predict.

*****

Captain Mikal Krystos used a pair of Leupold low-light
binoculars to gaze out the bridge window towards the impact site, in the
direction he expected to see the sunrise. The
Sedulity
was still traveling east at a slow speed of five knots.
Rain continued to fall hard and steady from a totally overcast sky filled with
clouds that streamed westward faster than Captain Krystos could ever recall
seeing clouds move. Paradoxically, a strong wind had developed over the past
few hours at sea-level blowing in the opposite direction, towards the asteroid
impact site. Mr. Summers, the meteorologist, had explained that the billowing
column of steam from the asteroid strike was sucking air in from every
direction at sea-level and spewing storm clouds out in every direction at high
altitude. The theory made sense, but this was an event unlike any witnessed
throughout recorded history. These forces of nature seemed unnatural, even to
experienced seamen.

The captain was becoming concerned that it was still so dark.
He should be seeing signs of dawn. Sunrise should only be moments away, but the
eastern horizon remained pitch black. The low light binoculars allowed him to
discern the shapes and movement of waves and clouds, but revealed little detail
of what they were sailing into.

“Are the FLIR pods operational?” he asked.

“Imaging is working, Sir,” Mr. Crawford replied, looking up
at a couple of LCD monitors mounted above the helm. “But the directional
controls aren’t responding. The cameras are both pointed back along the ship in
‘man overboard’ mode. We might be able to point them forward manually.”

He was referring to the infrared cameras mounted on the
underside of each bridge wing. They were normally pointed towards the stern,
down the length of the ship, since the primary purpose of their 640 x 480
resolution thermal imaging cameras was to watch for anyone falling, or jumping,
overboard. Being in that configuration had shielded the lenses from the blast
wave and tsunami that hit the bow of the ship, but the FLIRs were also designed
to be directed forward to assist in navigating the ship when necessary. The aiming
system had been damaged by the impacts, and pointing them forward manually
would now require one of the crew to hang outside the ship on a tether.

“How hot is the rain now?” inquired Captain Krystos.

“Rain temperature has fallen below 50 degrees Celsius, about
the same as a very hot shower, Sir,” said First Officer Crawford. “I think one
of the crew would be willing to give it a try.” The captain raised an eyebrow,
noticing that Crawford hadn’t volunteered to do it himself.

“I’ll do it, Sir,” said Petty Officer Perkins. Being the
radar operator on a ship with a broken radar was motivation enough to find
other ways to make himself useful during the crisis.
 
Perkins was also a technician, so he was a
logical choice for the job. The captain nodded agreement and instructed Perkins
to put on foul weather gear and a safety harness.