C l scheel, p.20
C L Scheel, page 20
"Suzanne, hurry!” Akken'ar called.
"Go,” she shouted. “Go to the Pass. I'll catch up."
Suddenly an enormous boom reverberated around them. Suzanne ducked and covered her ears as she saw something explode into fire behind Curly's bar. The ground rolled again and a portion of the building buckled, the timbers splintering like twigs. Shards of broken glass from the shattered front window hurtled across the pavement.
Dane spun around and ran toward the other officers. “Call for emergency assist ... get those damn fire boys up here! The propane tank's blown!"
Fire caught the old bone-dry wood of Splitrock Bar, turning it into an inferno. Suzanne watched, horrified as the flames shot over the building, gobbling up everything in its path. They'd never put it out in time. Curly's place would be reduced to cinders in minutes.
Billowing smoke and ash made seeing Akken'ar impossible. She raced toward the Pass, hoping she would find him. But once again, the earth's rampage stopped her. The rumbling increased, becoming a loud cracking sound. She looked down and watched as the ground split open—a gaping crack that grew wider and longer as it rippled across the pavement from one side of the parking lot to the other and into the trees, blocking her way to the Pass ... and Akken'ar.
She looked up and saw him on the other side of the chasm. “Go back! You can't stay here,” she cried out. “This is not your time. Go!"
Akken'ar forced the horse to the edge of the crack. “I will not leave you here!"
"There's nothing you can do. Just go,” she pleaded, sobbing. Tears streamed down her face. “Get away while you can. Please, Akken'ar. Go!"
She heard the tortured despair in his voice. “Suzanne, I—"
Another boom made the stallion rear and scream in terror. The powerful impact threw her to the ground. Flying wood struck her in the leg and the side of her head. Through the smoke and dust, she saw Akken'ar one last time. He would get back, he had the Tearstone. Tears glittered in his eyes as he raised his sword to her, spun the stallion around and galloped back through the Pass.
* * * *
SUZANNE AWOKE IN a hospital room. Her head felt like it had been stuffed with wet cement then wrapped in a wet towel. She touched the bandage around her head and noticed she a several other bandages on various parts of her body: her left arm, around her legs and on her right wrist. She looked like a war casualty.
A cheerful nurse bustled into the room. “Awake, I see? Good. I'm Nurse Joy."
Suzanne closed her eyes. Of course.
"How are we feeling this afternoon?"
"We feel like crap."
"Now, now. That's not the right attitude. You were very lucky, Miss Jennings. No broken bones, just some cuts and scrapes from the flying debris."
"Great.” She looked beyond the nurse to the window. Akken'ar was gone.
"Are you hungry?” Nurse Joy asked with undiminished cheer.
Suzanne sighed. “I guess so."
"Excellent. I'll have some soup and Jell-O brought up right away. Do you want a soda? How about some nice ginger ale?"
"Okay.” She couldn't look at the nurse. Her happy expression was more than Suzanne could endure.
For two days, Suzanne lay in the hospital bed, watching television while her wounds healed. The earthquakes had caused considerable damage throughout the county and the entire west coast. Seismic experts were stunned by the intensity of the quake and its magnitude. From Mexico to the Canadian border, every city and town along the west coast had suffered massive damage. High rise buildings and freeways in LA had collapsed. San Francisco's bay bridges were irreparably damaged. And what was left of Seattle's Space Needle would have to be torn down.
"It's not like you guys haven't been expecting it,” she muttered to the television.
The residents of Black Elk had escaped reasonably unscathed. Because there were no large buildings, most of the damage could be repaired. But everyone was terrified. There were predictions of more earthquakes including ‘The Big One.'
On the last day during her recuperation, Dane came by with an enormous bouquet of flowers. He looked tired as well as apologetic. He placed the bouquet on the table next to her bed.
"Hi, Suzanne. How're you doing?"
"Fine,” she said coldly.
"May I talk to you for a minute?"
She looked away from him. “Do I have a choice?"
He pulled up a chair from the corner of the room and sat down. “I came to tell you how sorry I am ... you know, for what happened at Curly's."
"You didn't cause the earthquakes."
"No, but I made a mess of everything else."
She turned her head to look at him. “Why didn't you let us go while we had the chance?"
He shrugged. “I don't know. I guess you were right ... I was a little jealous."
"Do you believe me now?"
"Yeah.” He nodded. “Yeah, I guess I do."
Tears oozed from the corners of her eyes. “He can never come back, you know. And I can't go to him. You remember that marble object you gave me? It's the key that allows you to pass between our time and the future. That's how he got back."
"He could come back here, if he's still got it."
"I doubt it. I'm sure he thinks the Cataclysms started there at Curly's. To him, I've been long-dead ... for a thousand years,” she whispered.
Dane looked down. “I'm really sorry,” he said softly.
"I know. Thank you for the flowers, but please go.” She looked away again. “Just go."
Late that afternoon, she went home in Black Elk's only taxi—Marv Braxley's battered old Ford pickup. Miraculously, there was very little damage to her house. Some of her hanging flower pots had crashed, and inside, pictures and bric-a-brac had fallen off the walls. It was messy but not irreparable.
Dane found Legolas—carrier and all—and had taken him to a vet where he was looked after until she came home. Having the cat returned to her helped ease some of the pain.
Suzanne stood before her living room window, looking out at her garden—the exact spot where Akken'ar had stood—and listened to the sound of ... nothing. Emptiness. The hollow ring of loneliness.
Legolas began rubbing around her ankles, demanding to be picked up. She scooped him up and clutched him close to her heart. And wept.
* * * *
HOW MANY TEARS can you cry until you are empty? Suzanne asked herself that question a dozen times and never found a satisfactory answer. There were days when all she did was cry. Other days, she sat by the window and stared outside at the rain. All through October she did not leave her house. She had the groceries delivered, sent out the mail with the letter carrier, and refused to answer the phone. The answering machine picked up several calls the first week she was home. Most of the calls were from out-of-state writer friends, anxious to find out if she was all right. After two weeks, the calls stopped and Suzanne realized how few friends she really had.
Dane was as good as his word. He never came by and never called. The only person who persisted in trying to reach her was her editor. Suzanne made up an excellent lie and told Lorraine she had been ill. When the earthquakes came, she had been unable to use the phone.
One overcast afternoon, Suzanne sat down at her computer and finished the book. After she sent the manuscript off, she boxed up the computer and stored it in the garage. She would never write a fantasy book again.
Watching a lot of television kept her mind off her grief. The news was always the same: earthquakes, rippling around the globe causing massive destruction. By the first of November, expectation for another big earthquake hitting the west coast was on everyone's mind. Residents of Black Elk and the entire county began packing up and fleeing to lower ground, where they felt they would be safer than living high in the mountains. Suzanne did not budge. As long as she remained close to the Pass, she made herself believe she might someday return to Ironhold.
Splitrock Bar burned to the ground and the entire area, including the old logging road had been closed off. No one was allowed up there. The local newspaper ran a story showing the history of the old WPA building and how it finally wound up as a bar. Curly never returned.
There were a few ground tremblers in November, scaring the remaining residents in Black Elk, but for the most part the earth remained quiet. Suzanne did not care one way or the other. The Cataclysms were coming; it was only a matter of time. Staying on the higher ground was the safest place. It did occur to her that she might die in the Cataclysms. That didn't bother her either. Her heart was already dead.
Another quake hit Seattle the first day of December, causing some damage—chimneys tumbled from a few roofs; there were some buckled streets and broken windows. The most ominous sign came a week later when NASA reported a gigantic meteor was on its way to Earth. In six months, it would either break up or impact the planet.
Through the long weeks of waiting, Suzanne came to the conclusion that her purpose as the Wordsayer was finished. She had helped Akken'ar and his people defeat the skags. Maybe the prophecy did not mean for her to stay in Ironhold; that she was not to be with Akken'ar; that he was meant for another. It gave her some consolation knowing that perhaps he had found someone else and was happy. But her heart whispered, no.
After the year changed, new fears rippled through the county. Several enormous quakes hit Portland, causing the Columbia River to rise to alarming levels. In Black Elk, a town council was called and for some unknown reason, Suzanne decided to go.
Those who remained in her tiny town were older residents, too stubborn to leave because they had nowhere else to go, and a handful of die-hards who refused to believe anything worse could happen. Jim Shelby, Black Elk's mayor, Earl Osgood, head of the local emergency services and Sheriff McKenna conducted the meeting in the high school gymnasium.
It had been several weeks since Suzanne had seen anyone and she was surprised by the warm reception she received from the townspeople. She sat in the back row on a hard metal chair and watched while the three men started the meeting.
"Folks,” Mayor Shelby began, “this is going to be the shortest town meeting I've ever conducted. We've got just one item on the agenda: evacuation. We gotta get out of Dodge."
There were a few polite chuckles in the small crowd.
"Now, I'm going to let Earl and Dane give you the run down on what we've got to do."
Earl Osgood stood up and cleared his throat. “Well, I've got word from the emergency folks in Olympia that this area's going to placed under a state of emergency, which means we have to get out. So, I'm here tonight to find out if any of you need help evacuating. I've been in touch with the Red Cross and other emergency organizations down in Mount Juliet, ‘bout a hundred miles west of here, and they've got some places set up where you can stay for awhile ... and I don't mean camping on cots in a gym like this, but some nice places. The owners of a small motel have volunteered to take as many folks as they can."
"How long, Earl?” one of the men in the front row asked.
"Hard to say. At least till the state of emergency is lifted."
After a half hour of heated discussions, all the townspeople agreed to leave, except Ed and Lily Watson. No amount of pleading, reasoning or cajoling convinced them. Black Elk was their home, and home was where they planned to stay.
"You'll starve up here!” Mayor Shelby exclaimed.
"We've got plenty of food, water, and firewood,” Ed replied, smiling. “I just picked up a brand new generator and some gasoline, so we'll be fine."
When the meeting broke up, Dane worked his way through the crowd to speak to her. “Well, what have you decided to do?"
"I don't know yet. I really don't want to leave."
"You could get trapped up here, Suzanne. The snow hasn't been bad this winter, but it could ... You'd never get out. You'd run out of food and water."
She sighed. “I know, but at this point, I really don't care. Whether I live here, or down in Mount Juliet, the same thing is going to happen."
"So that's it? You're giving up?” He put his hands on his hips. “You know, I used to admire you because you were so ... unique, so smart. You could write stories that took me away to fantastic places and exotic worlds. I used to skip going out for a beer with my friends after work so I could get home and finish one of your books. But now, I think you're about the dumbest woman I've ever met.” He shook his head. “I'll be by your place in the morning. Nine sharp. You'd better be ready to go. Even if you think so little about saving your own life, at least think about saving your damn cat!"
Dane strode out of the gymnasium without looking back. Suzanne watched him leave, too astonished to speak. The tiniest spark ignited in her heart. He was right; she couldn't waste her life up here, feeling sorry for herself. Besides, it didn't matter where she lived as long as she kept her hopes alive.
She hurried home and started packing.
* * * *
DANE PICKED HER up promptly at nine. Suzanne noted with some embarrassment that he had his CB radio fixed and the antenna had been replaced.
She dumped one large duffel bag into the back of his truck, then climbed into the front seat with Legolas’ cat carrier on her lap.
Dane grinned at her. “All set?"
"Yes. Let's go.” She made herself not look back at her house.
It actually felt good to be on the road, doing something, besides moping around all day. As they drove, Suzanne's imagination and resourcefulness began to go to work. There had to be a way to get back to Ironhold. There had to be some kind of connection or detail she was missing.
"What happened to your friend, Dr. Kyrk?” she asked.
"Andy went back to Seattle with his wife, Margaret. He's busy trying to help people cope with all the devastation."
He'll be much busier soon, trying to escape and cope with his wife's death, she thought. He'll have to deal with Vandervelde, too.
Two hours later, Dane pulled into Mount Juliet, a small logging town at the base of the Cascades, right next to the Juliet River. They drove past two huge timber yards, filled with enormous stacks of cut logs.
At the end of a tree-lined street, Dane stopped in front of a small motel with a sign that said ‘Welcome Evacuees.’ After inspecting her room consisting of a bed, TV, tiny bathroom and a kitchenette, she turned to him.
"Thanks, Dane, for everything.” She held out her hand to him. “I appreciate your ... wake-up call, last night."
He took her hand, but didn't shake it. “No problem.” He looked around. “Not bad. You and Legolas should be okay here."
"So, where will you stay?"
"The local cops have got a place set up for me and some other law enforcement guys. Listen, if you need me ... uh, need to call me ... ,” He shoved a scrap of paper in her hand. “That's my cell phone number."
"Okay. Thanks.” She smiled at him. He really was trying to make amends and she couldn't be angry with him any longer.
Dane left, allowing her to settle in with Legolas. The imperious feline at once claimed the middle of the bed for a short nap. One cobalt blue eye peered at her through a narrow slit.
I intend to sleep here. Where you sleep is your problem.
"Don't worry, you conceited little thief. I'm going out for a walk and do some shopping. When I get back, I expect you to find another place to sleep."
The cat yawned disdainfully and curled into a tight ball.
I think not.
Suzanne slipped out and walked into Mount Juliet to pick up a few things: some groceries, water, cat food, a flashlight and a small radio. Every emergency kit should have a radio, she reminded herself. Maybe a little camp stove in case the power went out. Or a propane lantern.
It was evident that the residents of Mount Juliet had the same idea; the shelves in the market were just about stripped bare. She managed to get most of the things on her list, except for the radio and bottled water.
"Go over to Chuck's ... the Army/Navy surplus store at the end of the block,” the check out clerk advised. “They've got all that stuff. You know, walkie-talkies, old military gear."
Suzanne thanked him and hurried into ‘Chuck's Military Surplus and Hardware.’ The place was crammed with camping gear, rubber boots, rifles, wicked-looking knives, gas-masks and stacks of empty ammo boxes. Numerous animal trophies hung on the wall, along with fishing nets, an enormous Australian flag and a bear skin. An entire helicopter blade hung suspended from the ceiling.
A large red-haired man wearing camouflage pants, an army-green tee-shirt and a baseball cap greeted her. Metal dog-tags dangled from a chain around his neck.
"Well, howdy, little lady. I'm Van. How can I help you?"
"Oh, hi ... uh, Van.” She looked around cautiously.
"What are you looking for? How about some electric sock warmers? Need those when you go huntin'. Nah, you don't want those. We've got a special on hiking boots for ladies...?"
"Well, I just need a couple of emergency things ... you know, flashlight and radio ... some bottled water. I've just been evacuated from Black Elk."
Van held up a hand. “Say no more. I've got everything you need. I know all about survival. I was in the Army—Special Ops. We'll get you squared away in no time."
Van bustled around the store picking up various items as he went. When he returned to the counter he dumped an armload of things she had never seen before.
"Let's see here. We got your radio and batteries; small camp stove with extra propane bottle; waterproof matches; five gallons of water and iodine tables for purifying it."
"Dried fruit packs, a dozen MRE's, and a jimdandy flashlight you can take with you in the shower or deep sea diving.” He winked at her and set the amazing flashlight on the pile of stuff.
"Wow. Do I need all this?"
"Believe me, little lady, I guarantee you'll be glad you've got all these supplies."
"Okay."
Van rang up the items and placed them in two huge shopping bags. “I can have this delivered,” he offered.
Suzanne gave him the address and the money. While he made change, she looked into the glass display case that served as a counter. Like the store, it was filled with a jumble of so many things you could hardly sort them out.
