THE REMNANT
Chapter 1 The Event He lifted up His eyes to heaven…before the world came to be, You are.
Thursday, August 12th 3:49 p.m. PSTGlacier Peak Wilderness, North American Quadrant 11, 2034 A.D.
Daniel heaved a sigh and straightened, planting his hands at his hips as he squinted against the glare, not really seeing his surroundings. Flashes of light reflected off his darkened lenses from the glacier-covered peaks and incredible views afforded at this elevation. He frowned, sighing in frustration. Despite the warmth of the sun and wispy clouds he felt cold dread settle in the pit of his stomach, unable to shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen. And, added to the nightmares he'd been having lately, he knew it wasn't his imagination. Unfortunately he'd felt this way before, and had learned long ago to trust his instincts.
Lifting a hand to swipe at the perspiration dotting his forehead, he gazed west toward Seattle, noting the faint line of smog hanging over the urban sprawl. It was a hot day despite the stiff wind sweeping down from the summits surrounding him. Too hot for being at this elevation.
"There's definitely something up," he murmured, bending back down to finish. He estimated the hours before he'd reach the parking lot at the end of the dirt road from Darrington to climb behind the wheel of his truck, trying not to focus upon the fact that he was a good 15 km away.
It had only been three days since he'd left his office in a rush, yet it felt like he'd been gone for weeks. His back ached from all the trails and obstacles he'd encountered just coming up here to check the equipment. The damage from the latest storm ended up robbing him of three hours just to get to this final station. He leaned closer, squinting at the tiny screen as he punched in the security codes and started running diagnostics. Waiting until they were streaming through at the right settings, he leaned back and reached for his waterproof journal to log in his field notes. Balancing on one knee planted in the half frozen ground, he recorded the measurements and impressions about the surroundings. Waiting for the system check to finish, he rose with a groan to glance at the darkening clouds at the western horizon. Pursing his lips, he shifted his attention to the station to recheck the solar panels and instrumentation, just to be on the safe side. Then snapping the cover shut he locked it and turned to pack his equipment.
"Station GPW 3 now back to working order!" he announced, hoisting the heavy backpack and grunting under the weight. Tightening the waistband, he swept the area with a critical eye to be sure he hadn't left anything behind. Satisfied, he turned and started back toward the trail while an eerie moan flew past him on the breeze. Shuddering with an uneasy feeling, he whistled twice for his Labrador retriever and headed back.
"The data will speak for itself, and after an hour or so they'll call to confirm the transmission," he sighed, concentrating on getting back to his truck, heading home and enjoying some fresh food for a change.
"Duke—let's go boy!" he shouted, following the trail as it wound through a field of alpine flowers as he scanned the perimeter and spotted his dog at the edge of an ice melt. "Time to go home, boy!" he yelled, hearing the answering bark over the echoes of his own voice.
Duke bounded eagerly toward him, panting with exertion from the altitude. Their paths intersected in 20 meters with his addition of an "about time" bark and a grateful gleam in his eyes.
Daniel hooked his thumbs beneath the straps of his pack, clomping at his side. "We getting old, boy?" he teased but Duke barked his denial and sped up, beating him to the edge of the tree line. There he paused to lap up a few slurps of water from a puddle left by the melting snow.
"I'm coming," he called, glancing at his watch and taking one last appreciative scan of the peaks surrounding them before entering the trees. He'd hiked Glacier Peak Wilderness over the years, even before his job had brought him up here. Though it was pretty familiar territory he never saw it the same way twice, still awed by its beauty. Duke preceded him down the trail, sniffing at every other boulder they passed.
"How 'bout we go fishing tomorrow?" he suggested, laughing at his answering bark as they turned through the first switchback. "You're right—we've earned a day off, haven't we?"
It had been weeks since he'd had any down time thanks to the influx of data pouring in from the regional monitoring centers and his research projects. It was bad enough that he had too many deadlines and reports to deal with, but when the data from Glacier Peak Wilderness suddenly went missing he was ordered up to investigate. He'd tried arguing about the higher costs involved in sending him, but his boss insisted it was worth it—he didn't trust the grad students to do it efficiently, and was convinced that Daniel was far better at fixing or jury-rigging equipment. Now he allowed himself a moment to reminisce about the good old days when they'd helicoptered him up to save him the two day hike in. But this time he had concrete evidence that the GPW monitors were too important to keep jury-rigging, especially considering the fact that this mountain was the most active and historically explosive volcano in the region. Not to mention its proximity to Seattle and the outlying communities, making it an unlikely but potentially ominous threat.
They were approaching a storm ravaged section of the trail so he concentrated on his footing, again feeling the uneasiness creep over him. There was increased melt from the glaciers that was alarming, added to the eerie sounds he was hearing so it made sense to have some amount of concern. He leaned backward to offset the heavy downward pull of his pack while Duke stepped carefully around the gullies and tossed rocks. They were moving quickly to get back before dark, but he couldn't deny wanting to get away from the place. Even Duke was intent on his progress, shoulders hunching forward as he led the way down the trail.
"You feel it too, don't you boy?" he asked his friend. "I just can't pinpoint the problem but I've got this gut feeling that something is off."
Duke paused to glance back, licking his chops so Daniel stopped to pull out his water bottle. Pouring a small stream of water for him, he watched Duke catch a few gulps before he took a few swallows for himself. He ran a sleeve over his forehead to wipe the perspiration away, eyeing the higher slopes behind them before putting away his bottle.
Get a grip Dan, the Voice of Reason chided him as they started off again. He had to admit that trusting his gut wasn't scientific. Plus after having studied GPW's history and activity extensively, what he had observed was actually pretty normal behavior for the ancient mountain. Shaking his head, he chalked it up to his weary state and lack of sleep.
"I'm just imagining things because I'm exhausted and overworked," he admitted aloud. "That's all it is, plain and simple."
Bracing himself for the challenge of outmaneuvering an expansive rock slide, he ignored the burning in his quads and kept up as decent a pace as he could. This trail was the fastest way down and he couldn't afford losing another day by taking a less rigorous way back. By the time they cleared the slide he reached into his pocket and threw Duke a snack.
"Good boy," he encouraged him. "We'll be back before you know it."
Warn your sister…
Startled by the unexpected invasion of his thoughts, he slowed his pace, that quiet whisper of a voice still echoing through his mind. It was familiar, though it had been a while since he'd last heard it. But why now, and why did it concern Amy? As he was reminded of the nightmares he'd had throughout the past week, he told himself not to put much faith in dreams, especially not dreams with such troubling subject matter.
Call her…he heard, pursing his lips at the sudden distraction. He was exhausted and hungry, and they still had a few hours to go. He picked up the pace, following Duke along the ridge and gazing out at the vista surrounding them. But the nagging feeling stayed with him so he tried arguing it away.
"She hasn't answered any of my calls in nearly a year," he sighed, amused by Duke's bark of agreement. "Not to mention the four years before her last appearance."
The heavy weight of the Presence settled upon him, waiting. It wasn't like the eerie foreboding he'd felt at the summit—this was an entirely different impression.
"She thinks I'm paranoid and that I worry too much—that's probably why she gave up the contact."
You must warn her.
"About what?" he shot back, slipping on a muddy spot. Catching himself despite the sudden shift of his pack, he straightened and forced himself to take better care with his footing. Below the tree line he caught a glimpse of the river, a silver flash in the late afternoon sun. Dusk came quickly in these mountains, and he was anxious to get back to the parking lot. The sense of comfort he'd felt quickly evaporated.
You can feel it, Daniel…he heard deep inside his soul. You're not imagining it…you must warn your sister.
Shaking his head as if to clear it, he wondered how scientific it was talking back to a voice no one else seemed to hear, not even Duke. Yet at his reluctance, the weight of disapproval draped over him. He knew the greater need here was to trust the one who had been with him all these years, the one who had proven unfailing faithfulness in every circumstance.
"She already thinks I'm crazy," he mumbled in resignation, pulling the satellite phone from its holster at his belt. "I don't even know what to say. How can I warn her about something I'm not even sure—"
Tell her where you live …
Climbing over a fallen tree trunk he grabbed the twisted roots for support until he made it over, a muttered thank you to no one in particular. Duke, he saw, did the wiser thing and went in a large circle around it. But he didn't drop the phone and shot Duke a smile as he once again took the lead.
"Good boy—she'll just ignore the call, especially if she doesn't recognize the number," he continued. "But I guess it couldn't hurt to try…"
Trust me, Daniel…
Somewhat chastened despite that gentle answer, he thought back to the last awkward meeting with Amy, refusing to consider his greater grief concerning the rest of the family. All the years of nothing at all from any of them, then suddenly she'd appeared. She must have somehow tracked him down through the University, for one day he'd looked up to find her standing at the door of his office, wearing a tense and fearful expression. He'd been in shock at the sight of her, barely hearing her confirmation of her identity as if he wouldn't recognize her—she looked so much like his mother it wasn't possible. But her angry stare only waged a more bitter war within him until she'd stepped closer, her eyes filling with tears.
"Amy?" he'd finally managed to croak as she clutched her bag to her chest like a shield.
"They made aliyah last month," she'd said in a broken voice, staring back at him with an expression of grief that dissolved into one of relief. She forced a shaky smile. "Finally."
"What?" he'd choked in response, getting to his feet as she studied his face.
Her expression had softened a bit by then. "We—just have each other now," she'd said softly.
Shaken by the reality of seeing her, he realized that the past that still haunted him, despite his confidence that he'd dealt with the feelings long ago. Then she'd come closer, to within arm's reach of him as she lowered her bag.
"I came to tell you that I forgive you," she'd said hoarsely as her eyes flooded with tears. "I hope you can—I hope that you can forgive me, too…"
It was at that moment that he'd pulled her into his arms, holding her as she buried her face against his chest, gripping him like a lifeline. His throat burned from holding in the pain as he'd eased her away to look at her. But she gripped his arms as if afraid of losing him again.
"I work at Sea-Tac, in PR," she'd told him before reaching into her pocket. Grabbing his hand, she placed a wallet sized photo in his palm. "This is your nephew Samuel," she'd said with proud smile. "I've named you his legal guardian," she added.
Stunned, he pulled his gaze from the photo and stared at her, unable to process everything. At that point she broke away and ran out, and though he'd called for her and rushed after, she'd slipped into the crowded hall and disappeared. Stunned at her revelation, he stood helpless for some time, finally raising the photo to stare at the kid. It was still in his wallet, but he'd never spoken to anyone about it to this day.
Trust me…
That had been their last communication. After countless unanswered calls to the number she'd scratched onto the back of the photo, he'd given up. Neither Airport Security nor Human Resources had helped, adamantly refusing any information beyond confirming her right to privacy. He'd frequented the airport at all hours until they'd caught onto him and escorted him out despite his protests that he only wanted to find his sister. Every effort to locate a Samuel with their surname had failed, further frustrating him. Now all he knew was that his 22 year old sister had had a kid who looked about three years old. Just thinking about it only made him feel betrayed all over again.
Warn your sister…
"Alright!" he finally agreed, punching the number he'd memorized into the satellite phone. "What have I got to lose, right? We'll consider this a test," he complained, glancing at the trail as he dialed.
Waiting for the call to connect, he worried about the threat using this phone posed to his off-grid status. He could hear his co-workers teasing and calling him Doomsday Prophet at worst, Prepper at best, labeling him as eccentric even though he was only 31. He'd put up with it, thankful for the anonymity his position had afforded him. The University had waived their requirement of undergoing microchip implantation just for him, pushing his application through before someone with his qualifications and intellect was snatched up by the competition. It had cost him a higher salary, but he valued protecting his identity more. He'd managed well enough, carrying on his research via the handful of grants that kept him funded and his untenured professorship's salary.
As the call went predictably to voicemail, he glanced at the screen to be sure the signal was intact, then tossed Duke another treat. Watching him catch it mid-air and gobble it down with gusto, they approached another rough section of trail where the river had washed most of a lower section out. Off in the distance he could hear its sound, estimating that they only had another hour left before they were back. Then the beep on her voice mail kicked in.
"Amy?" he addressed her recorder, not bothering to identify himself. "Look I want you to have my address, ok? Just in case you feel up for another visit…besides, I should meet my nephew and ward, don't you think? But look, don't share it with anyone, and don't call this number back—it's a work phone I don't always have access to."
Glancing at Duke's sidestepping a fallen tree trunk, he continued. "I've got a place up in the hills, so the directions will be a little complicated…If I'm not home there's a key hidden in a fake rock in the upper left corner of the door frame. Don't bring anyone else there except Samuel—it's important that no one else knows...I miss you…Call me."
With that he sighed off, tucked the phone back into his belt and met Duke's quizzical expression. His head was tilted to one side, almost as if he was about to speak. You did the right thing his expression read.
"Ok let's go, boy," he stated, resuming a faster pace now that the trail was clear. Somehow he felt the weight of the past few days fall off his shoulders. Duke barked excitedly and passed him, eager to get back.
"There, I did it," he murmured, following him into the deepening shadows of the forest. "Let's just hope it'll do some good someday."
Even as he said it he had his doubts; his kid sister seemed as secretive and paranoid as he was. He wondered about her son, and how she'd managed to appoint him the guardian without knowing his legal address. Must have used the university address, he reasoned. He had to admit that the idea of a nephew had grown on him ever since learning of his existence. He knew better than to ask who the father was, but couldn't help being curious. It still amazed him that she'd taken the trouble to try to find him, after so long.
Unlike the rest of the family.
He knew he shouldn't dwell on the past, though the years hanging between he and his parents seemed like an empty void. Being on his own since 14 had been pretty rough, but he'd certainly learned a lot about survival. The worst thing was that he still missed them, despite their betrayal…especially his mother. Whenever he wasn't drowning himself in work, thoughts of the past drifted into his mind, thoughts of happier times. But they'd moved to Israel, making aliyah after years of saving and planning. He knew without asking why Amy had not accompanied them—it was just too dangerous a place to live, especially with kids.
As he glanced up at the sun-tipped treetops, breathing in their fragrant scent, he longed for a hot shower and a good night's sleep in his own bed. As they crossed a stream they startled a flock of birds, which suddenly took flight in noisy objection. Taking a moment to study their flight, he felt uneasy again but shrugged it off. As the trail skirted the river he finally caught a glimpse of a clearing below, judging the parking lot to be less than 5 km away. This had once been a popular hiking area, but that had been years ago. Since then most of the bridges had washed out from storms, and besides that only the most dedicated backcountry enthusiasts chanced hiking in. Permits were difficult to obtain with all the bureaucracy, unless you had a government contract or permit like he did.
The satellite phone began to vibrate, so he pulled it out and stared at the database icon. It was code red so he punched in his passwords and opened the site, slowing to a stop as he stared at the seismographic data he'd just reactivated. Duke barked impatiently as his heart began to pound.
"Dear God—it's off the charts!" he croaked, typing in a hasty interpretation as he set the alarm, praying he was wrong. Gripping the phone tightly in one hand he loped down the trail with Duke at his heels, unable to think of anything except his sister and the nephew he'd never met.
5:25 p.m. PST Cascades Volcanic Observatory, Quadrant 12
The volcanologist on duty stared at the monitors confirming the alarm, blindly picking up the receiver.
"This is it," he whispered in dread, tapping his pencil wildly against his mousepad as he waited. On his monitor a red spot appeared in the lower segment of the Aleutian chain, further terrifying him. Rays of red pulsed outward, reading halfway down the Washington Coast as the connection was made. Leaning over his keyboard he reached up to tighten his mike as he tried to keep his voice calm.
"This is Mark Gordon at the Vancouver Observatory—attention, attention…This is a confirmation of the earlier alert received from GPW3 data and based upon subsequent mapping and regional changes: there has been a significant displacement event at zone 7—I repeat, a significant displacement—of subduction zone 7 in the Cascadia/de Fuca area. Take immediate emergency action in preparation for a high frequency event, possible large scale eruption, origin to be determined, as well as potential tsunami after-effect of coastal zones extending from the lower third chain of the Aleutians southward to the border of coastal Oregon. This warning is being forwarded throughout the network and is based on GPW data and incoming Mount Baker shockwaves, Mount Rainier data yet to be analyzed. I repeat—this is a warning of a significant displacement of zone 7 with potential aftershock events. All emergency personnel are to implement evacuation immediately and sound tsunami warnings," he croaked. Rising from his seat, he stared at the network screens as his colleagues rushed in from dinner break. Leaning both hands on the desk, he shook his head in disbelief and repeated the warning.
"God help us all…"
8:25 p.m. PST Just outside Index, WA, Quadrant 11
Amy Levin hugged her son close as he gasped in wonder, pointing at the vista below. She didn't really care for the ferris wheel or for amusement parks in general, but it was a beautiful night and she wasn't quite ready to do what they'd come here for. So when Samuel had pointed out the little mobile fairground not far from where her brother supposedly lived, she hadn't the heart to deny him. Sam loved circuses of any type and size and after laughing at his begging pleas she'd agreed, parking up the hill from the lot where the carnival perched. They'd driven here right after she'd received Daniel's message, before she could rationalize her decision. But there had been something in his voice that made her do it, a hint of yearning and loneliness she couldn't ignore this time. It was going to cost her and Samuel to risk contacting him, but she couldn't seem to help herself. So she'd plugged the "address" into her GPS without being sure it would help, given Daniel's vague directions. From what she could tell from her map he lived somewhere at the end of an old logging road up in the foothills of the Cascades. It made perfect sense, given his behavior and what she'd learned about him so far. But why he'd left her that "just in case" call out of the blue was beyond her ability to guess, but one thing was sure—Samuel's begging to meet his uncle had finally gotten to her and she was running out of excuses. Besides, she wanted her brother to have an influence in Samuel's fatherless existence, and his voice mail had finally been the catalyst.
She remembered the day she'd looked into her Daniel's eyes after so many years of being deprived of his presence. He'd grown into a man who barely resembled the older brother she remembered, the one who had watched out for her and taken her out so many times, the Daniel she'd missed so fiercely. Photos of him she'd stolen from her parents' bedroom before his burial service didn't do him justice now— he'd grown into an attractive man of some reputation, at least in the academic research world. He wasn't using his full surname but she'd found him anyway. The day she'd found him so many feelings had warred within her. He seemed like a stranger except for those eyes—intense, dark blue, filled with that haunted look that made her heart go out to him. Shoving the photo of Samuel at him had been a rash move on her part, but she'd been desperate and crazy enough to go against everyone in the family to find him. Then she'd run away, avoiding further contact with him in order to protect him. The family was suspicious, she could tell, though no one ever spoke his name. Thanks to his off-grid status it had taken years to find him, and she knew that he was still virtually in hiding.
The look in his eyes before she'd turned and run out of his office still haunted her. He probably thought she was betraying him all over again, so it was truly a miracle that he'd called her and given her his address. He was finally going to trust her, which was why she'd had to come and see him again. And to introduce him to Samuel.
"Mommy it's so pretty here," his small wonder-filled voice breathed as he pointed toward the mountains. In doing so he leaned a little too far off center, making their seat swing out from its position at the top of the ferris wheel. "Is that where Uncle Daniel lives?"
"I think so, honey," she breathed, tightening her arm around him as she grasped the bar tighter. "When are they going to start us up again?" she worried despite the delighted laughter of the children surrounding them at having halted their rotation. The ground seemed a little too far away as she prayed that the safety standards were up to par. Hopefully the ferris wheel had passed inspection.
He smiled broadly into her worried frown. "But we can see so far this way! I hope we never come down!"
She forced a laugh. "You're right, of course," she admitted, shaking off the premonition of disaster she couldn't help feeling. Still, she glanced toward terra firma, not sure she hid her longing to be on solid ground that well.
For not the first time she wondered if she'd made the right decision, coming to check out Daniel's place without responding to his call. What if he wasn't even here? She had taken the risk of calling his department to find out that he was out in the field working, but he was expected to be back in his office tomorrow. Strangely, they'd believed her when she'd said she was his sister. Had he mentioned her to his co-workers? Just the thought of him doing that seemed risky and out of character, though she had to admit she didn't know him very well.
"When can we go see him?" Samuel sighed, looking up into her eyes. "Do you think he might come to the carnival, after his hiking?"
"I think your Uncle Dan might be too tired, sweetheart," she answered, resting her chin on his curls.
"After all his hiking and work?"
"Yes munchkin," she replied, trying not to worry about the length of time they sat swaying at the top of the wheel. She'd asked about Daniel at his department, stating that they hadn't seen each other for a while, but the secretary had only shrugged, commenting that he wasn't that keen on keeping hours. Apparently he only saw grad students and research assistants, not undergraduate students.
The chairman of the department's tried for years to get him to teach, but he refuses, the woman had stated, waving a hand dismissively. He's too brilliant to hide away in some dusty old lab building if you ask me. But he does keep to himself. I for one think he's way too busy to have a personal life, if you know what I mean...
And Amy had known exactly what she meant, only for a completely different reason.
"Mommy—what's that?"
"I really wish they'd start this thing up again," she sighed, distracted by her fears and thoughts of the past.
"What's that, Mommy?" Samuel repeated, his voice tinged with concern. "I thought we weren't near the beach…"
"No, silly," she chuckled, forcing her attention onto him. "We're more than an hour away from the beach, sweetie."
"But Mommy, I see a wave…"
Following the direction of his pointing finger she stared in horror, choking back a scream as she gripped him closer. He whined softly as they stared at what looked like a wave on the horizon, extending for as far as they could see. Dark gray and menacing, it was unfurling at a rapid rate toward them, cresting in a white spray. Bracing her feet against the footboard she gripped Samuel as he buried his head against her chest, both staring at the advancing wall of water. Off in the distance they could see trees and buildings falling beneath its force as it lifted up cars and debris. Cries and screams filled the air as the wheel began to tremble and people began to panic at the sight. The wave suddenly slumped forward and dove low, yet still rushed toward them in a flood.
"Hold on!" she cried, gripping the bar with one hand she held onto Samuel. With an almost human moan it swayed but held while they stared down at the water engulfing its base, rising to the foot of the lowest car. To their dismay people floated by, reaching for a handhold wherever they could find one. And other debris floated speedily by, the sight of which made her stomach turn over.
"Mommy!"
"Hold tight Sam, and pray!" she shouted, reciting the shema as she watched the water swirl and lose momentum. Cars slid toward them, and off to one side she saw people scrambling to stand on top of the picnic benches and hanging onto trees. Cries and shouts rose from beneath them, then she saw two teenage boys start to climb down out of their seat, gripping the spokes of the ferris wheel and maneuvering like they were on monkey bars.
"Be careful!" she cried to them, and one looked up with a fake grin.
"Don't worry—we're going to get you down, all of you!"
"What?" she objected, watching his friend slip into the water and swim toward the next amusement, a circular boat ride. Suddenly she realized what they were doing. Its eight plastic boats had risen with the water and now rocked against the edge of the wall, barely contained within their concrete enclosure. He gripped the edge of a red one and hauled himself into it. Grabbing the rope, he shouted to his friend.
"I've got it! Let's go!" he cried, gesturing wildly until he came to his side. After catching his breath, he swam into the next boat and climbed in. The other teen looked up at them and gestured as the other passengers slowly began climbing down toward them.
"Don't be afraid," he reassured them, despite Samuel's wide-eyed stare. "You can make it—just hold on tight and take your time."
"But we could fall!' she cried, her heart nevertheless surging with hope.
"Just don't look down," he ordered, "all of you! Come on," he encouraged, helping a middle-aged man who reached his side to climb into the boat ahead of his. Below them another family swam over and claimed the other boats. "See? It's not that hard!" Tom called up, helping people into the boats. Some of the men refused, instead choosing to help guide the others toward land.
"We can do it, Mommy!" Samuel agreed, unfastening their seatbelt. "Come on—Uncle Dan might need our help!"
"But his house is way up there, see?" she laughed nervously, seeing no other solution as she coaxed him onto her back. "At least I hope it is—now you hold on tight like your teddy bear backpack, ok?"
"The boys will help us, won't they?" he said fearfully, hugging her neck. She swallowed and prayed again before reaching out to grip the steel girder.
"We'll be fine, Sam," she answered with as much confidence as she could muster. Stretching up, she placed her right foot on the beam adjacent to their car. "Here we go—hold on tight!"
Stepping out onto the solid, unswaying spoke of the wheel she found it held and began the slow climb down, her insides trembling. "I just don't like heights..."
"That's it, keep coming!" the others shouted from below. "Still two boats left!"
"Don't worry if you fall in," someone called, "the water's less than six feet deep now and it's warm!"
"That's encouraging," she murmured, maneuvering down onto the next lower spoke.
"But we can swim, Mommy!" Samuel said close to her ear, his hands gripping her neck.
"Yes we can, sweetie!" she breathed, forcing herself to keep moving. "Only a few more spokes…just like a big bicycle."
By the time she slid into the water the first boy met them, taking Sam onto his back for her but staying at her side. "Good job, lady—and you my man are really brave!" he pronounced, eventually lifting Sam into a yellow boat. She felt his hands at her waist and accepted the lift into the boat, thanking him profusely.
"You're not getting rid of us that quick," he said to his friend. "Lead the way, man!"
Gripping the edge of the boat she watched them swim alongside all the boats, guiding them with the help of the other men until they all found themselves climbing out and onto the pavement above water level. By now it was dark but she concentrated on finding a place to take shelter. Shivering despite her best attempts to hide it, she clutched Samuel close to share their warmth.
"We'll lead everyone to the general store," Tom's friend reassured her. "Don't you worry."
"Thank you so much!" she panted, trembling from the trauma and the cold.
"You're a brave one," he congratulated Samuel. "By the way, my name's Nate, what's yours?"
"Samuel—we can swim too!" he said proudly, his teeth beginning to chatter a little.
"Thank you, Nate," she sighed, eyeing his friend as he joined them, amazed at their bravery. "You too, Tom."
"No problem," he nodded, eyeing Nate. "We're cousins, actually."
"Do you know my Uncle Dan?" Samuel blurted out, searching their faces.
Tom raised his eyebrows. "Dan who?"
"Levin—I mean Levitt," she corrected herself, hoping he hadn't noticed her slip of the tongue while telling herself never to make that mistake again.
He shrugged. "I know a few Dans—he live around here?"
"We're not really sure," she replied, falling silent as a family hugged each other with cries of grief. What was now the bank looked like a partially undermined street. Everywhere they looked people threw ropes and articles of clothing to those still making their way to higher ground. She tried not to think about those who hadn't made it.
"Nate lives a few blocks up," Tom offered. "You want to come with us," he stated, frowning when Nate shook his head and closed his cell phone.
"Nothing," he said quietly. "But I think we just lived through a tsunami."
The word hung over them, the reality of its meaning slowly settling in.
"Our earth science teacher was right," Tom stated blandly.
Amy thought of her brother then, the importance and danger of his work making her fear return. "Oh no," she whispered, glancing up toward the closest range of mountains and praying he was still up there. She remembered his secretary saying he wasn't expected in until tomorrow…
"Let's hope everybody's home," Nate stated as he turned to leave.
"Wait, this lady wants to know about some relative of hers," Tom remembered, turning to her. "What's his name ma'am?"
"Daniel Levitt," she stated, watching their expressions carefully.
"I know a guy named Dan—don't know his last name though," Nate confessed. "He's a friend of my dad's."
"He lives up an old logging road," she stated, nodding toward the hills. "I have his address but I'm not sure it's that easy to find."
They exchanged looks. "There are dozens of old logging roads up here," Tom stated. "What's he look like?"
"He's blonde, average height," she shrugged, glancing at Samuel. "His beard is close cropped, and his eyes are blue—dark blue."
"I think I know who you mean," Nate said, narrowing his gaze on her. "Keeps to himself a lot, but he's a nice guy. He helped my dad last winter when we had an ice storm. You know who I mean, Tom?"
He shook his head. "No man."
"His house is kind of strange though," Nate added. "Straight out of the Shire—you know, like in The Hobbit?"
She held his gaze, remembering Daniel reading that story to her. "We ah…we haven't seen each other in a long time," she admitted quietly. "I've never been to his house before."
"Look don't worry, one of us will try to find it for you," he offered, gesturing to Tom to follow. "I need to check my family first, if you don't mind. Maybe my dad's home and we can take you up to his place."
She nodded, remembering where she'd parked and realizing her car was lost, as was their little apartment outside Seattle. Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, she choked back a sob. Everything to the west of this town no longer existed, if there had actually been a tsunami. It was all gone—their home, Samuel's school, the airport. Even her parents' home. And the university where Daniel worked …
"Hey, you ok?" Tom asked gently, touching her elbow.
She nodded, gripping Samuel tighter. He was silent, taking it all in. "I just hope my brother's still hiking," she said in a trembling voice, "and that he's safe, up in the mountains."
9