Devastation Erupts Read online

  Snickers darts inside, nudging himself into Aidan’s legs, knocking the radio aside. My heart jumps in the half-second before Aidan snatches it, saving it from the short tumble from his lap to the ground. He smirks, ruffling Snicker’s ears. It wouldn’t have been funny if the radio had met the ground violently. That dog has caused enough harm. We don’t need him damaging the radio too.

  Riley plops down next to Aidan, dropping her hands in her lap. “So, did you hear anything interesting?” A subtle defeat lingers in her tone. She’s just being polite. She doesn’t really want to know.

  “Nothing good.” His head sways back and forth in disbelief. “How are we ever going to recover from this? Food, gas, clean air, electricity. It’s not like someone can just flip a switch and restore everything.”

  “Maybe we should just focus on the here and now,” Riley says gently. She looks to me for support, but I have no reserve of encouragement, let alone any to share. He’s right. And there’s nothing we can do but wait to see what happens.

  The swiveling door handle clicks as someone on the other side attempts to open it. But since it locks automatically from the inside, it doesn’t budge. Aidan lifts Snickers, relocating him to the ground before attempting to stand. Riley starts to protest but he cuts her off. “My legs are numb. I’ve got to get some blood circulating.” He pushes away from us, limping toward the door before he cautiously swings it open.

  We recognize our visitor right away. Matt’s arrival carves a welcome break in the conversation. I’m getting used to people walking around with masks covering half of their face. Closing the door, he tips the bug-like respirator over his head and nods in our direction.

  Clasping an arm around Aidan’s shoulder, Matt comments, “You’re already getting around better. How’s that ankle feel?”

  Glancing our way before he responds, I sense any answer he gives will downplay his true condition.

  “Pretty good,” he murmurs. Pointing toward Matt’s back, he asks. “You bring us some presents?”

  Matt shrugs off the longest backpack I’ve ever seen. The yellow and red fabric extends from his shoulders to the middle of his thighs. Its rectangular form reminds me of a tent or canopy case. He lowers it to the ground, the contents clanking with each shift.

  Leaning down to unzip the top, he retrieves our digging tools—two black folding shovels and two vicious-looking half-axe, half-murder weapons. I was sort of hoping for some electric tool that did most of the work for you. These look very labor-intensive.

  Placing his hands on his thighs, he pushes upright. “We’re busting through there today. I’m shipping out tomorrow. I’m needed closer to the impact zone.” His hard expression dissuades any questions.

  Aidan drops a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “Thanks for coming back. And for bringing tools. I really appreciate it.” With a solemn nod, Matt grabs the long-handled pick-like tools and breezes past us, starting down the stairs. Riley grabs the shovels and follows him.

  I step toward Aidan and quietly suggest, “Maybe you should stay here and rest your ankle. The three of us can handle this.”

  He raises a palm in protest. “No. That’s my family down there. Nothing’s going to keep me from getting to them.”

  I raise my hand. “I understand. Just…know that it’s okay if you need a break or anything.”

  “You’ll be the first to know, okay?” he teases. “If you’re so worried about me, you should probably escort me down the steps. You know, sort of like a crutch I can lean on.”

  I smile and nudge a shoulder under his armpit. So far, this manual labor thing isn’t so bad.

  Chapter 72

  Our descent down the stairs is much faster than the last time we traversed them. Although it was only a day ago, it feels like so much has happened since then.

  When we reach the bottom, Matt’s already worked out a plan with Aidan’s dad, their raised voices echoing through the chamber. They pinpoint the spot that Aidan’s family started digging into on their side. That’s where we’ll target while they distance themselves in case the rock wall shifts.

  Matt confirms that we’re breaking through to the other side today. The natural confidence flowing from his words and movement convinces me that he’s right. And I’ll do anything in my power to fulfill that goal. We need to reach Jeff. Although I secretly hope that Aidan’s dad exaggerated the injury or that Jeff’s made some miraculous improvements overnight, I’m prepared to help him—and anyone else who might have been hurt in the collapse—however I can.

  For the next several hours, we slowly and carefully dig away portions of the wall. We take breaks only when needed—either because Snickers demands some outside time or one of us requires a quick trip the non-existent facilities.

  The process is mostly quiet, other than the clanking of metal meeting stone. Most of the pile is dirt and smaller rock that tumbles away when one of us jams a sturdy tool into a weakened spot. I hope we’re doing the right thing and not unknowingly triggering a second collapse. If we end up buried down here, there’s no one left to rescue us. Everyone else is trapped even deeper within these depths.

  My limbs grow heavier with each round of our choreographed smash-smash-dig-dig routine. Every inch of progress propels dust particles into the air. What begins as a mild cough quickly morphs into Riley’s body shuddering as a hacking fit overtakes her. Matt’s concerned eyes meet Aidan’s.

  “Let’s take a break and grab some water,” Matt suggests. “We could all use some hydration.”

  We make the climb to the top of the steps—to the cleanest air we can access. I assume my position as Aidan’s crutch. It’s a comfortable closeness, even amid the dust, dirt, and sweat.

  Plopping to the ground, we gulp the slightly chilled water, naturally cooled by the dampness of the dark environment. Spotting the idle radio, Aidan’s forehead creases before he snatches it and settles back against the wall.

  Switching it on, he deftly scrolls through stations. I’m really not in the mood to hear some nameless voice rattling on about how awful everything is or how it’s all about to get worse.

  Aidan stills when a succession of beeps screeches from the unit. Snickers emits a low growl, but Riley quickly shushes him. Anticipation chokes the air, weighing heavy between us.

  This is President Taves. As a nation, we are in a full-fledged state of emergency. Some of our homes are destroyed. Some of our friends and family are lost. And for many, hope may feel out of reach right now.

  We have one hell of a mountain to climb, but we will climb it. Together. Of that I am certain. I am asking you to remember who we are. The United States of America. When we stand united, we can overcome any challenge. And today I challenge you to reject lapses in judgement and consider the needs of all as we strive to ensure adequate resources for all Americans. Those in both primary and secondary impact zones.

  We must maintain order. The next several months will be difficult. There is no doubt. But we will overcome the devastation. I ask you to rise with me to rebuild and restore what has been lost.

  I have deployed our military and law enforcement personnel into action. Every American, those facing the direct effects of Yellowstone’s eruption or secondary impacts, must follow local authority’s direction. This is the only way we can avert chaos and forge ahead on the path to recovery.

  If you are hearing this, you are located in a secondary impact zone. Until further notice, you will shelter in place. Once our forces have ensured that impact zone survivors have been assigned to and settled within government-created safety communes, focus will shift to the outlying areas.

  Stay safe, follow instructions, and lend a helping hand to your neighbors when possible. I will provide updates of our progress in the coming days.

  The repeated succession of beeps signals the end of the broadcast. Aidan switches the radio off and shifts his gaze to Matt. “Is that where you’re going tomorrow? Right to the belly of the beast?”

  With just a blink of hesitation, Mat
t nods. I’m not sure if he doesn’t elaborate because Riley and I are here or if he’s sworn to secrecy. Or maybe he just doesn’t want to talk about it.

  The reminder of his impending trip escalates the urgency in our task. What’s it even like where he’s going if people are already looting? Would someone hesitate to shoot if he was the only thing standing between them and food they needed for their family?

  I shake the thought away. I can’t change what he does. I can barely control what our sixteen-pound dog does, let alone a grown man I barely know who is dedicated to serving in law enforcement.

  Swigging the last gulps of water from my bottle, I swipe the back of my hand across the drips on my lips.

  “How about we get back to work?” I say, pushing my tired muscles to move. Sleeping on the hard floor last night only compounds my discomfort, but that wall isn’t going to remove itself. Aidan and Riley narrow their eyes my way. I know what they’re both thinking. Did you really just say that?

  Matt’s hazel eyes land on me, too. But they bear respect. He never needs to know how much I hate this task. Or the way my body yearns to flop like a seal on a pier. I can push through if it means he’ll get to see his family before he has to leave.

  “That is a great idea,” Matt agrees, rising to his feet.

  Aidan chuckles and pushes a hand through his hair. “Alright, back at it. I just need my crutch.” I smile shyly but oblige. This may be my favorite part of the process.

  Riley exhales a tired sigh before following. Slightly renewed, we return to the depths.

  Chapter 73

  By the time we open a viable hole in the tunnel, I’m ready to crumple to the ground and sleep for a week. I don’t need a pillow or blankets. Once every cell in my body can ease into a state of rest, I won’t care where I am.

  Matt tests the opening, jamming the flat head of his digging tool around the edges. Satisfied that the opening is secure, he throws a hand up in a “Stay” gesture. A moment later, he turns and dashes through the opening.

  Aidan peers through the hole we made. It’s wide enough for two of us to pass through at one time. It’s also tall enough for Aidan’s nearly six-foot-frame to cross without brushing the jagged, rocky ceiling. Just how long those walls will stand without crumbling, who knows.

  What starts as a slow sway of Snickers’ tail turns into a full swish thumping the floor. Voices carry to my ears and a broad smile spreads across Aidan’s face. Forgetting his faithful human crutch, he pushes through the opening and meets his family on the other side.

  Riley and I stay in place, the only ones excluded from this reunion. Snickers takes off, unable to resist the celebration. Hugs and laughter spill through the cavern, drifting past us. A sharp churn in my gut reminds me that we have no part in the overflowing familial joy. We’re just two orphaned sisters along for the ride. Again.

  When the voices die down, Aidan beckons us. “I think it’s safe to come through. Come on over.”

  With all eyes on us, we mosey through the tunnel and join the group. I can tell by the side-eye glances Riley throws my way that she feels just as misplaced as I do.

  Aidan launches into formal introductions. We had officially met his dad already, but we were supposed to meet the others that first night. The last time I saw them, they were all scurrying about the interconnecting rooms, carrying and organizing supplies.

  The names and faces blur before me. I nod and shake hands, forcing my cheeks to lift, forming a plastered smile. Bright blue eyes and deep brown hair easily identify Aidan’s sisters. They both look younger than me, but not by much. I’d guess they’re around thirteen and fifteen. A smattering of freckles dances across the slightly shorter one’s nose.

  Their mother’s hair reminds me of honey. Even in the dull light, it reflects a soft shine. She’s the only one in the family without ocean-hued eyes. Her rich brown irises mirror my own.

  Matt and Jeff’s parents greet us similarly. Their names leave my brain just as quickly as they enter. It’s overwhelming being thrust into this cohesive clan.

  Riley officially introduces Snickers, but my guess is they’ve all already heard about him. Hopefully, they don’t blame him, and by extension us, for Jeff’s fall.

  Clapping his hands together once, Aidan’s dad announces, “I think someone over here would love to see you all.” His sad smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

  Scott leads us to the first opening that branches off to the left of the main room. It’s the size of a small bedroom, and other than having a dirt floor and rock walls, it’s really not that bad. Worn red milk crates serve as a dresser and end table, flanking the short ends of a blue inflatable air mattress.

  Jeff lies atop a crumpled blue sleeping bag, his neck slightly propped up on a thin pillow.

  “Hey, it’s about time you checked out my bachelor pad.” Although the words are definitely something I would expect, they lack his usual playfulness. Although he’s in a resting position, his body looks stiff and uncomfortable.

  Snickers pushes through our legs and jumps on the mattress to douse Jeff with kisses. “Hey, another visitor,” Jeff says, completely lacking enthusiasm.

  “What is it about you that drives all the dogs wild?” Aidan jokes half-heartedly. No one laughs.

  Matt cuts to the chase. He’s got the least amount of time to spend here. Kneeling beside his brother, he asks, “How are you?”

  Jeff rubs his chin, smirking.

  I imagine he’s conjuring a response that has to do with how much better off he’d be with some French fries and fountain soda.

  Matt stares intently, awaiting a response.

  Breathing out a frustrated sigh, Jeff matches his brother’s seriousness. “Damn tunnel nearly crushed me. Dad and Scott dragged me out from the rubble. Mom was hysterical. Everything hurt like hell for what felt like weeks. I know it wasn’t that long, but it feels like it when you’re lying around with nothing to do but focus on the pain.

  “They gave me what they had, which wasn’t much…ibuprofen…sleeping pills. I can’t tell if the pain is starting to fade or if I’m just getting used to it. Whatever part of my body doesn’t hurt is just numb. I don’t know what’s worse. I’m just…broken.”

  Matt slides toward the other end of the bed and gently grasps Jeff’s left foot.

  “Can you feel that?” he asks, watching Jeff’s reaction closely. Jeff shakes his head no. Matt continues, working his reach along the side of Jeff’s leg. They pause every few inches, but the routine repeats itself until Matt touches Jeff’s side, just above his waist. It’s the first time he acknowledges that he can feel Matt’s touch.

  My stomach drops and bile rises in my throat. His legs are paralyzed. And it’s all our fault.

  Chapter 74

  “You guys should have some privacy to talk. Quinn and I will go see what we can do to help around here.” Riley places a hand on my shoulder and I gladly oblige, following her out to the main room. My muscles scream at the thought of being pushed even further, but staying here, watching heartbreak unfold, fills me with a strangling guilt. Every nerve in my body demands that I flee. Snickers trails behind us. His biggest concern right now seems to be keeping up with us while attempting to sniff every crack and crevice at or below his eye level.

  We find Aidan’s dad and Riley asks him how we can pitch in. Clasping his hands together, he asks us to follow him. Leading us through the main room, he makes two right turns, traversing the snaking tunnels before stopping at an opening that reminds me of the one Jeff’s in.

  “I know it’s not exactly the Hilton, but it’s yours,” he says, sweeping an arm across the space. “This is how we set up all the rooms. And it’ll only be for a few weeks.”

  “Thank you,” Riley whispers. Her voice cracks. I know she’s overcome with emotion, just as I am. These people don’t even know us and yet they took the time to set up a space to make us comfortable.

  Just like Jeff’s quarters, an inflatable mattress consumes most of the space. It’
s pushed against the wall with identical green sleeping bags spread over it, topped with two of the smallest pillows I’ve ever seen. Each is about half the size of a normal pillow. Compared to a paper-towel roll it looks luxurious.

  “There are extra blankets in the supplies Jeff brought. Make sure you grab some. We’re all going to have to get used to how cold it is down here.” Scott’s eyes convey an insistence. Although I did notice a temperature drop when we came in from the outside and then again when we descended all the steps, the thick air cooled my overextended body with each trip. I didn’t mind the chill, but now that I’m not hauling supplies or serving as Aidan’s human crutch, I can definitely see the need for more layers of warmth.

  After a quick nod of agreement, I survey the rest of our space. Charcoal gray milk crates line both ends of the makeshift bed. The two closest to the pillow-end contain lanterns and flashlights. Both crates at the foot-end are empty. I’m guessing those are for our personal effects. Most of our bags have been deposited on the floor. We still have a few to bring down all those stairs, but it’s nice to see our belongings again.

  “Dad.” Aidan’s voice startles me. I didn’t even hear him approach. Maybe that limp is improving. “Matt’s gotta go soon. Can you come talk with him and his parents before he goes?”

  “Sure, son.” With a brief nod, Aidan’s dad retreats.

  The three of us stand in uncomfortable silence. In the ten minutes since I last saw Aidan, any hint of lingering happiness from reuniting with his family has dissipated. His shoulders have slumped, and worry etches wrinkles across his forehead.

  Riley’s eyes flash with concern. “Aidan,” she starts gently. “I know everything is not okay, but are you…is there anything we can do?” She stumbles over her words, but her intentions are clear.