Posted: 5/13/2008 10:19:39 PM EDT
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Just pulling up an all tale, Eruption chapter one It's going to be one of those days, Dave sighed to himself as he blinked at faint daylight bleeding in his bedroom window. The power was out again, for the third time this year. A dozen shots of tequlia at his brother's birthday party yesterday had been fun, but he was paying a heavy price this morning. With no alarm to awaken him, he'd over slept his five am rise and shine time. He rose, but without a mug of coffee it was going to be difficult to shine. His potted Money tree lay on it's side, and the pole lamp was toppled as well. He must have been staggering more than he remembered. From his porch window, he could see the lights were out as far as the fog allowed. That's wierd, somebody's head is going to roll for this screw up. Flipping the breakers wasn't going to be an option. It was cold and lightly raining as usual for northwestern Washington winters, but no snow or storms were forecast to pull down the power lines. As he lit some candles and moved them to the bathroom, he could envision a simi trailer truck folded into a power pole and the resulting snarl in traffic. The stop and go of powerless intersections would add 20 minutes to his commute as it was. He started the hot water running in the shower and lathered up for a shave. Placing a candle on the shower window ledge, he stepped in with his razor. KaBurr, the damn water was cold as ice! What the hell? He had a gas hot water heater, and so the lack of electricity wouldn't cause this problem. Were the gods against him this morning? He wrapped up in his heavy robe and slippers for the trek out the back door to check the heater enclosure. Grabbing a flashlight from the top of the refrigerator, he picked his way through the wet grass by the porch. The flame was out, but no fumes were noticeable. What began to be noticeable through his morning hangover were the sirens. There must be a big wreck up the hill, he thought, or perhaps a fire. "Well Damn", he muttered and returned to wipe the foam from his face and enjoy racing through a cold washcloth bath. Dave Bowden took stock of himself in the mirror. By candle light his eyes looked like red slits and his hair sprung up in a pillow induced cowlick. "What a babe magnet", he grumbled and pulling on a ball cap seemed the quick solution. At thirty eight years old, he was two years younger than his brother, Peter, but there were thinning spots in his hair, the early warning signs of following Peter down the path to balddom. Time to consider Rogaine or some other advertised crap cure. He slipped on a fresh pair of jeans and a cotton plaid shirt, then filled their pockets with his wallet, keys, cell phone, his Emerson Commander folding knife, and on his belt he slid a Leatherman. In a practiced movement, ingrained by years of habit, he clipped on his Smith & Wesson Airweight in a Milt Sparks holster inside the waistband and onto his belt. He concealed it with his favorite fleece vest, and added a light weight parka against the rain. Strapping on his watch, he saw it was seven forty five and he was going to be late opening the store. Dave and his family ran Fins & Skins, a sporting goods store near the marina in Everett, a small town about twenty five miles north of Seattle. His parents had retired from running the store for over thirty years, and Peter was taking a few days off for his birthday. A line of fishermen would be waiting to buy bait, they'll have to wait, Dave mused. He grabbed a Coke, swallowed some aspirin and stepped out to his truck. The street looked deserted, and the sirens whail made the foggy morning air a bit spooky. He fired up Big Red, his Ford 350 4x4, and pulled out of the drive on his way up the hill to the hi way. At the stop sign, there wasn't the usual wait, so far so good, Dave thought. He gunned up the hill, his three hundred and sixty horsepower V10 thundering off the surrounding pines. The low morning fog fell away near the top of the hill and Dave crested the peak to brake for the intersection. What th...?! There were half a dozen fires billowing smoke from the downtown side of the hill. His heart leapt a bit, the store was his responsibility, and he peeled out in hopes it wasn't one of the burning buildings. Big Red built speed quickly and he was doing almost fifty miles an hour when he saw the bridge over the creek was gone, just gone! Despite the rain, he slid to a stop with no more than ten feet to spare. Dave exhaled slowly. Where the hell were the cops? What the hell was going on? He reached down and turned on the radio. Q102, his favorite country station was nothing but hiss. He punched the seek button and backed his truck away from the precipice. A news station popped in and the familiar sound of the emergency broadcast system's tone filled the cab. After a few seconds of squealing, a voice broke through and warned, "This is the Washington state emergency network, please stand by for details of civilian preparedness. Please stay in your homes and allow emergency vehicles room to do their jobs. There will be an announcement in six minutes at eight am. I repeat, this is an emergency. Please remain calm and off the roads so... The rest was lost as Dave hit the seek button again to find what this was all about. But the few signals that were audible were all broadcasting the same warning. Dave pulled the truck to the shoulder and opening the door, stood in the door frame and looked out over his hood. Across the fallen bridge, the pavement that led to downtown was broken in several places by cracks and buckled into huge speed bumps. There didn't seem to be any smoke coming from the marina area, thank god and, Whoosh, a Honda Civic sped by and over the edge before he could flinch. In what seemed like slow motion, the little car banked to one side and dove into the creek bed over one hundred feet below. Dave's jaw was still dropping when the sickening sound of the crash reached his ears. "My god, you stupid bastard", he raged at the foolishness, yet in the back of his shocked brain, he knew he had come close. He stabbed the emergency blinkers in case any other drivers weren't on the ball and raced for the edge. The Civic was crumpled, upside down on the rocks in about two feet of water. The rear wheels were still spinning, and seemed to be the only movement in the wreck. Dave yanked his cell phone out and dialed 911 only to be met with a busy signal. There must be too many other people doing the same thing, he surmised, I'll try again later. He felt the need to check on the people in the wreck, but it wouldn't be a picnic getting down to them. There was great slabs of bridge concrete hanging out over the creek that could go any minute. Of course there was always the possibility of another car coming down on his head as well. As he contemplated his options, another 4x4 truck arrived and pulled behind him on the edge of the road. A bearded giant of a man climbed down from the cab and walked over whistling. "Holy Shit, did this just happen?" the giant asked. "Got me", Dave replied, "a car just went over the edge while I was parked here." "Oh my god", the goliath's tone became very serious and he rushed to peer over at the wreck. "Did you call for an ambulance?" he rasped over his sholder. "I tried, but it's busy", said Dave, "I'll try again." "Listen", the big man spun towards Dave, "We've got to get down there and check on those people!" Dave nodded his agreement, "I was just contemplating that, but it's going to be dangerous." "My name's Howard", the big fellow extended his hand and crushed Daves in his paw. He continued, "I was an EMT and still have a kit in my truck, I'll be right back." As he rushed away, Dave tried 911 again, but with the same result. Well, nothing else for it. He ran for his truck, opened the canopy, and removed his climbing bag with 180 feet of 10.5mm rope and a harness. Oh! He quickly grabbed three road flares from his toolkit. Let's hope these keep another car from landing on our heads, he thought. He ran about 150 feet back from the edge and popped the flares across the road. This is crazy, he chided himself, as he joined Howard looking for a way down. Howard eyed the stripped strand of nylon, "Will that hold me?" he asked with a bit of apprehension. "It's rated to withstand two tons of drop pressure", Dave replied with a terse grin. Howard patted his ample midsection, "Well, I guess I'm not that heavy yet. Where do you think we can get down?" Dave was already looking, and he pointed to the other side of the street. "Over there is not quite a straight drop, and there's less chance of somebody driving their car on your head. We can belay to that big tree and rapel you down. I think I have enough rope to get you to the bank by those bushes, see them?" "Whoa, you're not coming down too?", Howard looked worried. "I will if you need me", Dave instructed, "but without my help, you may not be able to pull yourself back up." "Ah", the big man understood and without hesitation jogged toward the spot Dave had chosen. "I've haven't done this in a long time, you'll have to show me how". Howard was already trying to step into the harness. You have to hand it to him, Dave thought, he's no coward. "Here, let's re-size the straps to fit you, then we'll attach a carabiner and loop the rope through." Dave helped slide the harness straps to fit the giant's ample frame, and then tied off the rope to a large tree trunk behind him. He attached the carabiner and clipped in the rope. Next he showed Howard how to loop the rope around his back to gain friction and slow his descent. Howard ran his belt through the hard shell medical kit's handle and giving Dave a worried glance, backed to the edge of the drop off. "Don't worry", Dave gave him a wink, "I've got a good hold on you, just keep your grip and let out a little rope at a time." The big man set his jaw, "Will do, ok, let's do it." And with that he began to lower himself over the side of the steep embankment. "Whoa boy!" he exclaimed, but seemed to be doing fine within a few steps. "By the way, what was your name?" Howard asked without looking up. Dave smiled, "I'm Dave Bowden" he called down to the man below. "Nice to meet you", Howard bellowed, "I'm buying the beer, if I live." "You're doing fine bud", Dave encouraged him, "only twenty feet more to go." Sure enough, Howard's big boots found level ground and he looked up, giving Dave the "OK" signal. "Great", Dave yelled, "now unclip the rope from the carabiner and leave the harness on you." "You mean here?" Howard pointed to the metal loop at his waist. "Right, you've got it", Dave was impressed with this guy, plenty of people half his age balked at rapelling out over rocks. Howard unclipped himself and made his way over to the creek bank. Undoing his belt, he grabbed the med-kit and began to wade towards the wreck. Dave marvelled, the water must be freezing, but the giant gave no indication of discomfort, and stuck his head down into the stream and through the submerged car window. After a few seconds, he surfaced and secured the med-kit on the car frame sticking out of the creek, then completely disappeared under the water. This made Dave a little nervous, but his attention was drawn away by the sound of another car approaching. He made for the midian waving his arms, but the car was already slowing and pulled to the side of the road. A woman stepped out and called to him, "Are you ok?" "Yes, but there's been a accident, can you keep trying 911 on your cell phone?", Dave asked. "Of course" the lady replied and reached into her car withdrawing her phone and hitting her emergency lights. She dialed as she ran toward Dave. He returned his attention to Howard below. How long could that big guy hold his breath, Dave wondered? His answer came as the huge one broke the surface blowing hard. In one hand he held a pocketknife, in his other he pulled the sweater of a woman, and dragged her to the bank. "Is she alive?" Dave heard himself cry. But Howard didn't answer and returning to the car he sank below the icy water again. The woman with the cell phone reached him and caught her breath at the sight below. Her hand went to her mouth and she whispered, "Oh Jesus." Snapping out of her shock, she hit re-dial. Dave nodded, and grimly waited for Howard to come back up for air. After what seemed far too long, he sputtered out of the car and pulled a small figure up in his arms. "Oh fuck, no!", Dave swore under his breath. It was a child. Dave's marriage had dissolved several years before without having any children. Maria, his wife, had wanted more than a simple shop keeper could provide, and had fallen for some guy she worked with at the bank. He didn't miss her anymore, but he did envy his brother's relationship with his two great kids. Now here was a small kid who didn't seem to have any chance at life. It boiled his stomach more than he wanted to admit as he watched Howard carry the motionless form to the edge of the water. The woman beside him was distraught as well, and a low groan escaped her throat. They seemed to hold their breath as Howard worked on the child. He continued CPR for some time, then with a final check for the tiny pulse, he wiped the hair from it's face and hugged the small body to his great chest. Dave wanted to call down to him, but the words wouldn't come. He closed his eyes. Dave felt the woman next to him grab his arm for support, and burst into tears. It was as painful a moment as Dave could remember. He patted the woman's hand, but kept his eyes shut and took several deep breaths. If only he had deployed the flares sooner, or seen her coming, or... he gulped back the regret and exhaled an emotional sigh. He opened his eyes to see Howard pulling the bodies farther away from the water, and covering the small one with his jacket. Then the soaking giant took a knee and appeared to be deep in prayer. Dave wasn't a religious man, but he echoed what ever sentiment that great bearded head below was offering. After a minute, Howard rose and wiping his nose, returned to the rope and clipped on. He looked up at Dave who took hold of the rope, and without a word they began to pull him upward. When he reached the top and unhooked, they looked at each other and the two strangers hugged. "You did your best", Dave whispered. Howard nodded. They turned to the woman who held her phone to her ear, she sobbed in a tiny voice, "I can't get through". Dave took her arm, "Let's get you into your car where it's dry". He left Howard to climb out of the harness and escorted her back to her vehicle. "Do you know what happened to cause this?" Dave asked her. Slumping into her seat she shook her head numbly. "Ok, thanks for trying 911, I'm going to put out some more flares", Dave gently closed the door. He returned to his truck and placed his last two flares on the road to replace the one already dying away. The rain had stopped at least, and the sky was clearing. Howard was waiting with his climbing gear and reaching out for another grinding handshake, he said, "I'm going to run back to the hospital and report this, you going to hang here for awhile?" "Yeah", Dave sighed, "try and get some cops out here to shut this down. Do you know what caused this and the fires?" Howard shrugged his mighty shoulders, "Nope, not a clue". Handing Dave a soggy piece of paper, he said, "Here's my card, call me and we'll have that beer." With that he lumbered back to his truck and jumped the median back towards the hospital. Suddenly Dave remembered the emergency network broadcast, and he jumped back in his truck and spun the key to power up the radio. The announcer was speaking in a stern voice. "...and state police ask for your cooperation in staying off the roads and limiting 911 phone calls to life threatening emergencies. Hospitals request you summon ambulance service only for serious injuries, and take extreme care if you choose to drive patients to the emergency room. Your county health services emergency contact number is, a different recorded voice took over, 425-555-2900". The announcer resumed, "Police are stretched beyond capacity, please call your volunteer city services at..., another recorded voice, 425-555-2727." "Once again, there have been massive earthquakes and eruptions of volcanos from Alaska south through California". Dave gasped a breath. "Mount Rainier and Mount Saint Helens had huge eruptions at 4am this morning. Seattle is reporting serious destruction of the downtown area. Alaska and Canada are just reporting more activity and earthquakes. Mount Hood and Crater Lake in Oregon have erupted and Portland has sustained extensive damage from the quakes. Mount Shasta and Clear Lake in California are spewing ash and lava, and Cal-Tech is reporting earthquakes of over nine on the Richter scale. San Fancisco and downtown Los Angeles have overwhelming damage. Coastal islands are being pounded by tidal waves of over 100 feet in height. All military, law enforcement and fire personal have been called to report in, and anyone with medical training is requested to report to your local hospital." Dave was spooked out of his stupor by the woman knocking on his window. He rolled down the window shaking his head. "Are you listening to the radio," she asked? "Yeah, this is unbelievable", Dave muttered. "Please forgive me, I have to get home." she pleaded. "I'll keep trying to get the police on my way." Dave nodded, "Thanks ma'am, take care." He watched her jog to her car and back up to a place she could turn around. Then she sped away. Dave returned to listening to the broadcast, but his mind was whirling. He tried his brother's number but it was busy. Then his parents, but they too were engaged. Probably talking to each other, he hoped. Behind him he noticed the lights of an approaching squad car. Thank gosh, I need to get home he thought. Stepping out he met the grim faced deputy and replayed the events for the officer. After taking his statement, the policeman thanked him for the valiant rescue effort, and released him to return home. Taking one last look at the sad hole where those two bodies lay, Dave started up Big Red and bumped his way over the median to head back up the hill towards his house. As the trees gave way at the top of the hill, he stopped and gawked southward. In the distance the familiar, snowy silhouette of Mount Rainer was replaced by great clouds of black and white smoke. Even from this distance, over sixty miles away, he could see the red streaks of lava pouring down her flanks. The eruption's billowing clouds stretched tens of thousands of feet into the air, and gave Dave the horrible feeling he was watching what a nuclear explosion must look like. He shook his head to clear a jumbled mush of thoughts. He wasn't sure if it was caused by his hangover or the events unfolding, but he was in need of some more aspirin. Come to think of it, he better hurry to the grocery store to beat the enevitable crowds. Food, water and other staples were going to be in short supply very soon. This was going to be big trouble, Dave worried. If he knew what was coming, he would have known he wasn't worried nearly enough. ------------------------------------------------------- Eruption chapter two It was after nine in the morning before Dave pulled into the Safeway parking lot. He saw that many others had the same idea of beating the crowds. Holy Mackerel, the parking lot was almost full, and dozens of people waited in a line to enter the store! Dave parked in a spot facing the street and joined the line of buzzing shoppers. Conversations swirled around him like gossip on steroids. "I heard California is under water!" "The Space Needle and half the buildings downtown have toppled over! "We're under martial law and they're shooting looters! "This is part of some terrorist attack, I bet'cha!" Had the situation not been so serious, Dave would have sworn he was listening to the Jerry Springer show. He saw Aaron Sanders approaching to join him in line. Aaron was a good friend, and a regular at Dave's poker table. He owned the local franchise of Dry's Electronics, and lived just down the hill from Dave. They nodded tersely to each other. "Can you believe this?" Aaron began. "The freeway overpass at Everett Mall Way has collapsed, traffic on I-5 is backed up for miles." "I believe you", Dave responded, "I almost drove into Forest creek, the bridge is down there as well. Have you seen Mount Rainer, it's gushing lava!" Aaron's eyebrows shot up, "Really! Mumm, Dave this could get bad, maybe I should take Sally to her moms in Boise". His wife, Sally, was pregnant with their second child. Aaron was interrupted by the appearance of the Safeway manager, who jumped up on a planter and waved his hands for quiet. "Could everyone give me your attention please", he called. "As you can imagine, we're having trouble getting the store open this morning. We have no way to run the registers, and it's pretty dark in parts of the store. I'm unable to contact regional headquarters for instructions, but we've devised a plan to open the doors and let you shop. Now we're going to allow you in in small groups, and ask that you move quickly to finish your shopping so others can follow. One of our employees will accompany each shopper to help us keep things moving. Items like batteries, water, medicine and other emergency staples will be rationed so that everyone gets a chance to get some of what they need. We ask that you only send in one shopper per family, and I'm afraid we'll be unable to accept credit cards and checks. Cash, money orders, food stamps, etc. please." The crowd broke into cries of protest with people searching their wallets to see what money they had on them. Several people broke out of line and rushed for their cars, presumably to head to the bank for cash. "Please people", the manager pleaded, "I know this is an imposition, but it's the only way we can reasonably open the doors. Please cooperate and give everyone a chance. This is a serious emergency and we don't know when we'll be getting more deliveries of stock. Now would the first ten shoppers in line please step forward. Children and family members not shopping can wait inside at the manager's desk for their shoppers to finish. Ok, let's get started." Dave knew he had over three hundred bucks in his wallet and his lucky hundred dollar bill hidden for emergencies would give him a good start on grabbing the stuff he needed. Aaron touched his arm and whispered, "Dave I'm going to run to the store for some cash. Save my place in line if you can." "Sure bud, boogie!" Dave wasn't sure how slow the line would precede. With each passing moment, he realized the dire consequences of this catastrophe. His cell phone would be useless in hours when the battery died. Not that the damn thing was doing much good anyway. Gasoline was going to run out before the night was through. He made a mental note to make that his second stop after the bank. Water was going to be a major concern. Perhaps Aaron was right, maybe he should collect his parents and drive them east and out of danger. He punched their quick dial number on his phone's keypad, but once more was met with a busy signal. Cripes! In the next forty minutes three more groups of ten shoppers were shuffled through the store. Several times a group of helicopters flew low over the crowd, always heading south. In addition, the air traffic out of Paine field had increased dramatically. Dave kicked himself internally, why hadn't he completed his private pilot's license? The high cost didn't seem so outrageous at the moment. Dave's family had a boat of course, an '84 40 foot Marine Trader. She was getting along in years, but the family kept her clean and ready for weekends fishing the sound. Dave didn't know how she had faired in the harbor, and even if she was sea worthy, where on the west coast might be safer than northern Washington. On his way to the store he'd seen a few signs of the quake, fire trucks doused flames down at the propane dealership. Broken windows, and buckled pavement were everywhere. The hospital parking lot was crammed he noticed. Aaron returned and soon they were allowed in the store. For once there was no waiting, as five cash registers were moving people along. A young stocker led Dave to his items, and restricted his purchases as required. Only six gallons of water per person, three packs of D-cell batteries, and several other items were rationed. Dave had a full medicine cabinet, but chose a large bottle of aspirin, twin tubes of toothpaste and a bunch of Lava soap bars. He grabbed as much juice and canned fruit as possible, and finished filling the cart with canned goods. The shopping went smoothly except when loud arguments burst from customers unaccustomed to being told no. Better get used to it people, Dave thought. Who knew how long it would take to restore electricity and gas service? He paid and quickly emptied the basket into the back of his truck. He didn't wade through the crowd in the parking lot, but simply jumped the curb and pulled off heading for the bank. When he arrived he saw the parking lot was full, so he pulled over to the curb and parked on the street. Crossing, he was met with a crowd of people even more disturbed than the folks in the shopping line. As he got to the doors he saw why. A large hand written sign stated, "We're sorry for the inconvenience, but the bank is closed until tomorrow." Oh shit, this was going to be a mess when the rush of customers ran the bank the next day. Dave jogged back to his truck and hurried toward home. Most of the self service gas stations were closed too, but he found the small market on Pacific Ave. where he often shopped, had a short line for gas. The owner had fired up his generator to power the pumps, and Dave pulled into line. The price looked to be about fifteen cents more than usual, but this was no time to argue about gouging. When his turn came, he filled Big Red to the brim, paid, and made for home. As he pulled into the driveway, he saw his brother's station wagon and the family waiting for him. Peter, his wife Joan and the two kids, Sam and Becky were waiting on the porch. As he stepped down, the kids flew at him like comets. "Uncle Dave!" They didn't seem too concerned, as might be expected from eight and nine year olds. He caught them and spun like a top, enjoying the squeals of laughter. It felt especially good today. "Grab the groceries out of the back, would you kids?" Dave asked. Always ready to please, they raced for the canopy. "Careful, some of the bags are mighty heavy", Dave warned, and turned to climb the porch to a more troubled look on their parents. Peter offered the crack of a smile and reached out to shake his hand. Joan's face showed signs of distress as she pecked his cheek. "We've been trying to call you all morning", Peter began. "Have you talked to mom and dad?" ""No, my damn cell is useless, I can't raise anyone", Dave replied as he opened the door. "Come on in, why didn't you use your key?" he asked. Joan said, "I'm not too thrilled with being under a roof since ours came down this morning." Peter gave Dave a 'cool it' look as his head whipped around at the news. "It didn't all come down, just the back porch and the roof over the walkway", he minimized. "Your going to scare the kids, doodle bug", it was his pet name for Joan. The two youngsters blew by, bumping and trying to out do each other to carry the most in. "Watch for those that have glass bottles in them", Dave instructed. "Slow down you two!" Joan tried to swat each head on the way out, but they were too quick. "Yeah, they look terrified", Dave grinned. They sat to talk, and Dave took some tea that was still cool from the 'fridge, and added ice cubes to glasses. Might as well use them before they melted, he reasoned. He settled in a kitchen chair and removed his cap to scratch his head. Man, he was beat. He looked up to notice Peter and Joan exchanging bemused glances at his noodle. "You look like shit bro", Peter yanked a tuft of thinning hair up in grinning ridicule. Before Dave could spit a cussing response, the kids arrived with another load. He gave his brother a 'revenge is a bitch' look, and rose to retrieve some trail mix from the counter. Pouring it in a bowl, he returned to the table. The kids brought in the last load and grabbing handfuls of mix, begged to go outside. "Can we go down to the creek?" Sam pleaded with his mom. "Ok, but stick close so you can hear me", Joan directed them. Dave's place backed up on Forest creek and the kids loved to hang at the deck he'd constructed down there. The adults sat munching mix and discussing the events unfolding around them. Peter explained how the roof had collapsed around four that morning, and he'd fought his hangover to inspect the damage. They both took some grief from Joan for using Peter's fortieth birthday as an excuse to drink like sailors. Dave was sure some of their friends were suffering the same recriminations this morning. It had been a great party. Dave stood to refill their glasses, and Joan rose to try his land line in an attempt to reach his parents. As she hung up in disgust at once more failing, the floor fell out from beneath her feet, and the whole house began to buck like it was attached to some giant Brahma bull. Her surprised scream at dropping into Dave's crawl space was drowned out by thunderous groans as the house tried to dismantle itself. Windows burst, appliances marched away from the walls, and everything not nailed down began to fly about the house like some poltergeist designed Disneyland ride. Peter and Dave leaped to help Joan, but the rolling floor sent them falling farther into the kitchen. The table caught Dave at the waist, and he went tumbling over it in a rain of tea, nuts and cereal. He busted his lip against the counter and saw Peter take a nasty bump from the traveling refrigerator. He held out his hand and pulled his brother up just as the damned icebox crashed to the floor behind him. They surfed the floor to Joan who's face was a picture of terror as the floor continued to consume her. "Yiiieech, get me out of here!" She demanded. Both Dave and Peter grabbed an arm and yanked her from the yawning maw of splintered floorboards. "Let's get outside", Dave yelled, but it was to her back as she set a record pace, valting the galloping couch and bursting out the front door. Dave and his brother both followed, and leapfrogging over the fragmenting front porch, rolled into the yard. Joan and Peter both fought to their feet and waddled over the rolling ground for the back yard calling the kids names. Dave struggled to his feet, but had a hard time staying on them. He watched as his house began to disintegrate before his eyes. Support columns gave way and the front porch came crashing down. His native stone chimney broke from it's base and slid onto the roof which gave way. Dave's eyes followed as the stone battered through his roof, attic, ceiling and floor, before coming to rest beneath the house with a great thump. The large pine on the side of the house gave a mighty crack and slowly fell forward taking out his workshop in a thundering crash. "Peter!", Dave bellowed and made for the backyard just as his brother ushered his wife and kids back into the open area in front of what was left of the house. The kids had lost their youthful resilience and were now crying in fear. Dave felt like joining them. For what seemed like minutes, they watched as his neighborhood was shaken apart. Cars flipped and danced on their tops in the street. Roofs, trees and telephone poles collapsed. The very road bubbled up in asphalt waves, then broke open in gaping cracks. Throughout it all there was an earsplitting roar like the earth was screaming in pain. Then gradually the rocking slowed and stopped. The air was still and the silence was as shocking as the cacophony had been a minute before. Joan comforted the kids and Dave and Peter exchanged a long look, realizing the enormity of this episode. Obviously this was just the start of the nightmare, and there appeared no way to wake up. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Eruption chapter three "Mommy, you're bleeding!" Becky forgot her fear in the concern for her mom. Joan pulled out her blouse to find blood stains on the back. "It's nothing darling", she comforted, but it didn't stop Peter from pulling her to him and lifting the back of her top to inspect the damage. "You've got a nice gash babe, looks like you caught a nail or a splinter of wood." Peter had a way of making bad news easier to swallow. His casual attitude and smooth tone often made Dave envious of his ability to avoid over wrought emotion. Dave was slow to flame, but burned much hotter when he got riled up. "You're bleeding too Uncle Dave", Sam pointed to Dave's rapidly swelling lip. "Ah", Dave fingered the split skin, "it's just a fat lip, give me a kiss!" He reached for Sam who recoiled with a smile that broke his tension. "Becky, you ok?", he questioned the frowning nine year old. "I guess, what are we going to do?" She posed the question of the day. "It'll be ok", Peter took charge, "why don't you guys grab the blanket out of the station wagon and stay in the open while Dave and I decide how to proceed. Honey", he squeezed Joan's arm, "Get the first-aid kit from the glove compartment and treat that cut. Then have Becky cover it with a bandaid, ok?" Joan nodded, and touching his cheek, herded the kids toward the car. One piece of luck was that his car and Big Red had remained upright, where so many other vehicles in sight were tossed on their sides and roofs. Dave noticed a few other families also assessing the damage from the safety of their yards. Most of the homes appeared empty. Evacuation seemed to be the preferred plan, and Dave agreed with the wisdom of it as he shook his head at the destruction of his home. "Peter, we've got to get you guys out of here", he reasoned with his brother. "Um, let's get your camping gear out of the garage and we can talk about it, OK?" Peter gave a nod toward the back of the house indicating he wanted to talk privately. The brothers crunched their way down the gravel driveway to the garage in the back yard. Somehow the old structure had survived better than the house. Dave used his key to disengage the electric door opener screw and they lifted the door to view a jumble of items shaken from their storage places. There was now a pile of camping, sports and other gear in a mountain on the floor. His bicycles and Yamaha dual purpose motorcycle were down but not wrecked. They began to separate the needed items from Christmas lights and boxes of old magazines. Peter looked back to see if they were alone. "Dave, I want to get Joan and the kids out, but I'm staying." Peter's tone was adamant, but Dave saw no reason for him to stick around. "They'll need you, not just now, but later... if something worse happens here." Dave knew his brother always put his family first. "Someone has to get dad and mom out bro, and you know he won't want to listen to reason!" Peter was right about their dad. Mel Bowden was as stubborn as a rented mule. He doted on his land and the store he and May had built up from nothing. Dave could hear his protests at abandoning either one in a crisis. "I can deal with pop, you take Joan and the kids and fly to Aunt Maggie's." Dave pleaded. Their aunt lived in Carbondale, a small town outside of Aspen, Colorado. She would welcome their company and had plenty of room. "I'll send them ahead, but I'm staying until we get the folks on a plane." Peter interrupted Dave's protest, "Dad will listen to me, and you know it. We'll follow Joan as soon as we can." "Ok, but she's not going to like this idea", Dave knew Joan could be pretty stubborn as well. But Peter was right about their dad listening to the elder son. Dave had always been a bit jealous of the respect Peter commanded with the ol' man. They continued the separation and pulled Dave's four man tent, and the bags of camping gear from the pile. Dave wheeled his Yamaha XT225 out and parked it in the driveway. He untangled the bumper hitch carrier from the mess of bungees and straps, and made a neat stack of them beside the bike. Strumming his chin stubble, he decided to add four of his five gallon gas cans to the cache. It was thirsty work. "Peter, I'm going to see what I can salvage from the kitchen", Dave tossed over his shoulder as he made for the back door. To tell the truth, he didn't want Peter to follow him, knowing Joan would blow her stack at the sight of them reentering the wreckage of his house. But he might as well asked the gulls to stop flying. "Hold on Dave", Peter craned his neck to check on his family who were engaged in the front yard. "Let me get them started on this tent and I'll help you." Peter raised his hand to halt another of Dave's protests. "You're not going in there alone bro". So Dave helped him carry the camping gear to the front yard and get Joan and the kids started on setting the stuff up. They walked back down the drive to return to the backyard, but Joan's womanly intuition was on full alert, and she followed. "What are you going to do Peter Bowden?", she demanded. There was no mistaking the venom in her voice. Dave saw Peter cringe before facing her. "We're going to need some stuff from inside hun", He began in an even tone. But both he and Dave recoiled at her explosive response. "NO! You're not going back inside, have you lost your mind!" Her nails dug into Peter's arm and threatened to draw blood. This was a fangs out Joan that Dave knew to be formidable. Lord! Peter looked past her at the kids assembling the tent. "Come back here doodle bug", he pleaded quietly. They all finished the walk behind the house in strained silence. Once there, Peter extracted her claws from his arm and used all his charm to reason with her. "How much water do we have in the car, bug?", he layed it out. "How about food? Or medicine for your back?" He again stopped her protest with a flick of his hand. "Listen to me, bug, we need the stuff inside, and both Dave and I can gather it twice as fast. You can see that, can't you?" Joan began to falter, but her jaw remained set at an angle Dave was sure would cause permanent damage. It was impressive to see her commitment to Peter, and Dave knew he'd be lucky to find a woman with half that commitment someday. "What if you're both hurt or..." she couldn't bring herself to voice the worst. Before Peter could reply she blurted, "What do I do with the kids?" "You'll take Dave's truck and make it to Paine field. Dave give me your cash", he asked. Dave handed over his wallet. Peter added his to her palm. "Get on a plane any way you can and go to Aunt Maggies." Joan opened her mouth, but Peter continued over her. "Nothing's going to happen, bug, we'll be back out in a few minutes, I promise." Joan blinked back a tear, and relented with obvious reservations. "If you hear a loud creak, you better come running Peter, do you understand me?" Peter nodded his head. "I'm going to stand at the back door and I will kill you if you get hurt, are we clear?" she instructed in a voice Patton would have approved of. Peter nodded again with a tight smile. They climbed the back stairs and Dave opened the screen door which came off the hinges into his arms. Joan growled, but held her tongue, and took the useless door and tossed it into the yard. Dave reached in the broken window of the back door and opened the lock. It took a serious push to break the door free from the jam. He and Peter exchanged glances. Dave winged it, "Ok, let's stay close to the walls, and I'll toss stuff to you in the laundry room, and you toss it out to Joan?" Peter agreed with a shrug, and they began to inch their way into the wreckage. Dave apprehension was muted by his sorrow at the state of his beloved old place. It was a two bedroom, one bath bungalow built in the early fifties. For all his cussing at her ancient plumbing and ratty wiring, he admired her craftsmanship. Wood carving was still an art back then, and the fireplace was a unique construction of native rock. She was now a broken dream, with cabinets hanging off the wall, and floorboards shattered open in stalagmites of splinters. Dave wanted to issue some loud curse words, but he was mindful of exciting Joan at the door. It would take months to repair this damage, if he ever got the chance. Peter took up a position straddling the kitchen door jam, and Dave tiptoed along the edge of the counters. The bags of groceries and their contents were scattered about what was left of the floor. He began to pitch water jugs and unbroken fruit juice cans over to Peter, who in turn passed them to Joan, who stacked them beside the steps. It went quickly and they were lucky that most of the bottles and cans were undamaged. Once the floor was cleared, Dave began to open the undamaged cabinets and tossing containers of condiments and canned food out to the waiting hands. Next was the pantry, and Dave grinned at his habit of keeping it well stocked for hunting and fishing trips. Cases of dried meals, canned goods and toiletry supplies were passed down the chain. Last to go were half a dozen cases of bottled water and several cases of Sprite and diet Coke. As Dave backed out of the pantry he spied the final unopened bottle of Don Julio Rsposado, unbroken on the floor. Holding it out to Peter brought a quick response of faux retching. But his brother caught the treasure and ducked a string of insults from his wife at the folly. "Stay there Peter", Dave asked, "I'm going to toss you some towels and blankets." "No!", Joan hissed from the door, but Dave was already creeping around the bar toward the back of the house. To be truthful, he wanted to see the damage, and had some other items in mind he felt they might need. As he passed the hole that swallowed Joan, the floor spoke to them in eerie tones that made Joan grown in response. Dave kept to the edge of the room, and passed where the couch used to stand. He made his way into the hall and noticed the bedrooms had survived with little damage. He first grabbed towels and bedding from the hall closet, then rolled them into a bundle and pitched the package onto the floor in the living room. Next, he crossed the small hall and retrieved shampoo, soap and the contents of the medicine cabinet, again rolling them into a tossable towel ball which he added to the pile of laundry on the floor. "I'm going to get the stuff off the bed now", he called to Peter. "Be careful", was his brother's needless reply. Dave was on a mission. He entered his bedroom and pitched the three pillows from the bed into the hall. Next he went to his closet and opened the door to find both hanging poles had given way to leave a pile of clothes on the floor. He retrieved his leather jackets, several pairs of jeans and a dozen shirts and tossed them on the bed. Next he added two pair of hunting boots and then wrapped the linen around the bundle which he swung into the hall. He followed and began to pass each pile to Peter who had made his way to the bar separating the kitchen from the living room. Once through, he turned back to the bedrooms. "What now?", his brother asked. "Just a few more things", Dave replied with a wink. As Peter passed along the string of supplies to Joan, Dave reentered his closet and lifting away the shoe rack, spun the dial on his hidden documents safe. He took a bag from the shelf above and stuffed three thousand dollars in cash into it, he kept there for gun shows and emergencies. He added his grandfather's collection of silver dollars he'd inherited, along with his watch and ring collection and a few small gold bars from when he'd toyed with the idea of jewelery making. He stacked his three favorite cowboy hats with a handful of socks and underwear on top and zipped it shut. Next he went to the wall and pulled down his two hunting crossbows that had somehow managed to cling to their horseshoe mounts. He strapped his arrow and parts bag to them and placed the items out in the hall. Ignoring Peter's call for him to hurry up, he passed the items out to his brother and turned back to the hall. Dave entered his spare bedroom which served as his study, and tried the door connecting it to the laundry room. It opened with a creak, but appeared steady. He winked at Joan as she gave him a nasty look through the back door. "Just a few more things", he called over his shoulder. Opening the closet door, he began to tote ammo boxes to the connecting door. First one thousand rounds of match grade .223 bthp he'd saved, was followed by five hundred rounds of Federal Gold match .308 cartridges. Next came another thousand of 7.62x39 Wolf steel cased ammo, and five hundred shells of 00 buckshot and sabot slugs for his shotgun. Dave followed with two cans of a thousand rounds of .45acp ammo in a hodgepodge of match and self defense brands. Then came cans of .38, .357 and .44 magnum rounds for his revolvers. Joan sneered at the stacks of ammo cans. "Come on Rambo, this isn't a war!" "Sorry hun, be just a minute." Dave noticed Peter's grin of approval as he began to hand out the heavy cans to Joan. Dave grabbed his three large sea bags of shooting supplies and passed them to Peter. Next he opened his gun safe and retrieved his Colt LE 6920 CAR-15, his favorite carbine. He leaned it next to the safe and continued pulling out his Bushmaster LEO M4 with an EoTech 552 red-dot sight, and his Remington M700 heavy barreled long range bolt action rifle. It sported a 6x24x45 mil-dot sniper scope. He next chose his two AK-47s, one a SAM-7S with a tiny JPoint red dot sight, the other a SAR-2 with a 4x40 scout scope. Lastly, he pulled the mighty brutes, a Winchester 1300 Defender pump shotgun and it's companion, a Remington 1100 competition semi-automatic shell shucker. Dave pulled some hard and soft cases for them from the corner, packing the weapons up carefully. After passing them out the door, Dave returned and began to stack pistols into a padded case. A stainless Colt 1911 Commander with ivory grips went in first. It was followed by a Para Ordinance P12-45 in tuff Black T finish. Next came his prize Wilson Tactical Elite with it's Coco bola wood grips. Dave then stacked a five inch Smith & Wesson model 29 .44 magnum hand cannon. Beside it he placed a model 19 .357 with a six inch tube. He covered them with another layer of padding foam and finished with a Ruger Vaquaro in .44 magnum and a Taurus 650 .357 stainless, snubbie revolver. Closing the case, Dave followed Peter out of the back door. Joan was shaking her head at the impressive array of armament. She handed them back their wallets and got in Dave's face. "I hope you don't think we'll need this stuff!", She fixed Dave with a melting look of disdain. "No ma'am, but I'm not leaving my guns to be stolen by looters, m'kay?" Dave returned her look without fear, he loved his personal weapons, and had spent no small amount of time and money collecting them. As it was, he was leaving twice what they carried in his safe. They just had no need for the other hunting and pleasure guns. Joan rolled her eyes, but said no more. She herself was a fine shooter, and could see the use of them in this crisis, despite her protests. "Peter, could you move your wagon into the yard by the tent, I'm going to back Big Red up and load this stuff aboard." Dave slung his arm over his brother's shoulder and they escaped Joan's earshot before exchanging high fives at surviving the reconnoiter into the destroyed house. It felt good to blow off some steam. It was only noon, but the day seemed to be lasting forever. They moved the vehicles and Dave began to load the food and clothing first. After checking on the kids progress at setting up camp, Joan returned to help them. She grabbed a couple of ammo cans, but Dave stopped her. "No, we'll put those in last doll, we're going to load the mags." Joan grunted and placed the cans back in the stack. "What for? They won't let us take them on the..." Her head swiveled to Peter and tears formed in her eyes. "No!", her voice trembled, "You're coming with us! You are coming...". Peter put up his his best effort at calm. "Bug, I'm going to get my parents out, then Dave and I will follow you. I promise." "Then we're staying with you!" Joan was pleading now, all pretense of anger gone. "You've got to try and get the kids out of here bug. We don't know what to expect, and you know how dad can be." Peter was broken hearted at the thought of separation from his family, but adamant in his desire to take the whole clan to safety. Dave walked to the garage to give them some privacy. "I don't care!", Joan was terrified at the prospect of leaving him behind. "We'll put the kids on a plane and Maggie can meet them. I'm staying with you Peter!" "Please honey, you know someone's got to go with the kids. You've got to protect them, and I've got to protect my parents." Peter took her into his arms and squeezed hard as she sobbed into his chest. "You can trust me, I'm never leaving you. We'll meet you as quick as we can, ok?" Joan nodded without raising her head. From his cocoon hug she implored him, "You promise? You swear!" "Peter blinked back a tear and made a promise they both knew he might not be able to keep. "I swear bug. I'll be right behind you." Joan broke away wiping her eyes. "I'm going to feed the kids", she lamented, and marched up the drive dabbing her sleeve to her face. Peter felt like a string attached to his heart pulled taunt and snapped. It took all his reserve not to follow her and hold on tight. Dave continued to load the gear into Big Red. When his brother joined him, he waited for Peter to break the silence. When he didn't, they took the camp stove, some water, canned goods and juice up to the growing campsite in the front yard, then returned and sat on the tailgate to make plans. "I've got three grand in cash", started Dave. "We can give Joan and the kids a thousand for their flight. Hopefully the credit cards will work once they're in Colorado. That will leave us two grand to get flights for the folks and us." "I've got five hundred in my safe at home", Peter informed Dave. You think we can get a flight out of Paine?" "I'll take the bike and check it out. If I can get some tickets we'll run them over there in the truck." said Dave. He brightened and spouted, "Say, I'll check the seaplane dock downtown if Paine has no flights!" "Hey, good idea", Peter replied. "Paul owes us a favor after our last fishing trip!" They had covered for the local seaplane pilot when his wife called them on the boat, looking for him. He'd said he owed them one, and now was a perfect time to collect. "Tell ya what, let's try and stay in contact with the walkie talkies." Dave had a brace of five watt GMRS radios with about a five mile range if there wasn't a hill in the way. They dug them out and added new batteries. Dave slipped out a Galco pancake holster with a mag pouch from the seabag, then loaded his Commander and two extra mags with Speer Gold Dot 230 grain hollow point cartridges. Handing it to Peter, he said, "I'll be back as soon as possible. Y'all have lunch and monitor channel 14, ok?" Peter racked the slide, set the safety and slipped the holstered pistol under his shirt. "Got ya. Be careful." Dave pulled on his helmet and cranked the Yamaha's engine to life. With a nod, he kicked it into first gear and rode down the drive, waving at the kids as he passed. The street resembled a motocross track with berms of asphalt and fallen trees to maneuver over and around. They would have to take their time even in Big Red. Dave passed several cars the owners had abandoned in their quest to get out of the neighborhood. The huge northern pine tree in the corner lot had fallen across the street, taking out the stop sign and creating a natural road block. Dave just cut across the lawn behind the stump and headed up the hill. Passing people on foot and pulling kids in wagons, Dave noticed a squad car at the top of the hill. As he approached, the officer waved him over. It was the same cop who had taken his statement earlier. The cop smiled when he recognized Dave beneath his helmet. "Where ya headed?" The officer asked. "I'm going to Paine field to see about a flight," Dave replied. "Paine's runway has been ripped up, I'm afraid. They've stopped flights out of there until it can be repaired. Is everyone at your house ok?" The cop's name tag read M. Robinson. "Yeah, we got out of the house ok. Any word when the runway will be repaired?" Dave asked. "No, listen, to be honest, I doubt they will get it repaired any time soon. There's no way to get the equipment out to the field. Most of the overpasses have failed or completely collapsed. We're sending people down to Pacific Heights high school. They've set up cots in the gym." Dave kept his cards close to his vest. "Thanks, I'll check it out." "Ok, take care bud." The cop turned to talk to another bunch as they crested the hill. Dave decided to try the field anyway, he might find a brave or greedy pilot who could fly Joan and the kids over the Cascades. Turning south, he made his way down Forest Drive towards the rear of the Boeing plant. He found the overpass closed, but worked his bike down the incline and over the median of 526. Once on the other side, he kept to the sidewalk and jumped the curb onto Airport Road. Well, he conceded, there was no way to get Joan and the kids here, even in Big Red. They'd have to crowd onto the bike and take it slow. That is if he could find them a flight. He tooled down Airport and kept to the right passing a line of cars that crowded into the gate leading to the terminals. Many of the cars were abandoned, or wrecked, not a good sign. There was some security guards turning people back at the gate. Dave idled close and waited until their attention was on others, then gunned past them, ignoring the calls to stop. He pulled onto the tarmac and made for the hangers on the south end of the field. Sure enough, the runway was a mess of rippled pavement. Both helicopter services appeared to be abandoned, so Dave rode down the line of hangers looking for movement. Near the end he saw some fellows working on a Cessna twin engine. He pulled into the hanger to conceal his bike, and killing the motor, walked over to the men. "What'cha need?", asked the closest man, his hands covered in grease. "Looking for a flight out for my sister-in-law and her two kids." Dave replied, trying to read the demeanor of the greasy fellow. "Sorry, all flights are canceled until the runway can be fixed." The man wiped his hands on a rag. "I was hoping to find someone who could get up tonight, maybe with short field experience?" Dave questioned the man. "Look pal, I can get this plane off a postage stamp, but I can't get clearance. And fuel is getting hard to find. Got any money?" The men sized Dave up in a way he didn't like. "Yeah", he replied, "What would it take to fly them to Spokane?" "Mumm," the closest guy looked at his companion, "A thousand dollars a head would get us clearance, fuel and to Spokane." His eyebrows lifted in anticipation of Dave's answer. "I could go two thousand", Dave said. "The banks are closed, ya know." The two men mumbled something he couldn't hear, then the one in the front asked, "Let's see your money." Dave reached into his wallet and removed a fat wad of bills. The man smiled and stepped forward holding out his hand for the cash. "Ok, you got yourself a flight, we'll be ready about five this afternoon. We'll meet you at the back gate off Mukilteo Speedway." Dave folded the cash in his hand, which stopped the man in his tracks. "I'll be here at four, and will go with you for the fuel and to get clearance." The man's smile faded. "Once you get them to Spokane safely, you'll get another fifteen hundred dollars from our people waiting to meet them". Dave's bluff seemed to give them pause, and after some more mumbling between them, the man turned to Dave and agreed. "Don't be late", the man said, "our man in the tower is leaving by six, and we have to bargain for fuel. My name is Newman." He trailed off, obviously expecting Dave to respond in kind. "I'm Dave, see you at four at the back gate." Dave backed away towards his bike and the men returned to repairing what looked like a gear problem. With a last look back, Dave kicked the bike over and accelerated down the ramp to the back gate. The guard was involved with people trying to enter, and Dave just pulled away out the exit. On his way back along the Speedway, he went over the encounter in his mind. He didn't trust these guys, and hoped he could find Paul down at the docks. He'd feel much better about leaving Joan and the kids in somebody's hands that he knew. He turned back onto 526 and followed it down to Evergreen to avoid bridges over the creek. Traffic was moving slowly over the freeway overpass and he slipped through it smoothly and was on his way toward downtown. He could see the cars stuck on Interstate 5, the main north-south freeway out of Seattle. It looked to be a parking lot. They needed to get out of here in a hurry. This could get ugly when people started getting hungry and thirsty. Dave gunned the light little bike over the hill and turned down toward Marine view drive. The stoplights were out, but he was making good time by not having to wait in the long lines at each intersection. After several detours around blocked streets, he arrived at the docks. He made for the end where the seaplane ramp was. As he pulled into the parking lot he could see there was no plane there. Damn. He jumped off the parked bike and entered the lobby of Paul's business. Paul's wife was alone behind the counter smoking a cigarette. "Dave!", she ventured a suggestive pout of her puffy lips. "Is your building still standing? We took plenty of damage." She pointed to broken windows behind her. "I don't know Randy", Dave replied, "I haven't been over to the shop yet. Where's Paul?" "He took some emergency officials over to Orca Island. It sounds like they took some major damage." She brushed her bright red hair out of her eyes. "You want me to radio him for you?" "Please ma'am." Dave responded. She frowned at the polite "ma'am", it was easy to see she wanted to please Dave with more than a radio call. Dave continued, "We'd like to get him to fly Joan and her kids over to Spokane when he gets back." "Oh, all right", let me try him." She turned back to the large radio set and issued the call letter sequence. In a few seconds Paul's voice broke through the static and she relayed Dave's request. Paul said he'd try and be back before dark if the officials didn't hold him up. She signed off and Dave thanked her and turned to leave. "Don't be such a stranger", she cooed after him. "The Broken Barnacle has free beer, as long as it lasts". Dave smiled politely as he pulled open the door. "We'll see Randy, catch ya later." He left before she could blow him a kiss. Man, Randy was the perfect name for that woman. No wonder Paul always avoided the merry-go-round lady. It was obvious everybody got a ride. Dave kicked over the Yammie and pulled out towards Fins & Skins down the street. He wanted to see if they had taken much damage. To his surprise, his dad's pickup was in the parking lot. That crazy old man, Dave thought. It was just like him to risk the back roads all the way from Concrete, the small town up in the Cascades, where he and May lived on a hundred acres of rolling timberland. Dave parked the bike and pulled the radio from his belt. "Peter, this is Dave, come in, over?" Dave tried a couple of times before Peter returned his call and asked what was up. "I'm down at the store and Dad's truck is here!" Dave exclaimed. "That ol' bastard won't sit still, it doesn't surprise me." Peter replied. "Did you find a flight?" "I think so", Dave said, "I'll tell you about it when I get back. I'll bring dad with me, over." "Ok, be careful, see you soon. Over and out." Peter signed off. Dave stepped off the bike and rounded the front of the store to find their neon sign lying broken on the sidewalk. Most of the front windows were shattered, but the iron burglary bars protected the inventory. Dave tried the front door, but it was locked. So he circled around the building and found the side delivery door wide open. That wasn't like dad. He was always on their case about security. With all the guns they carried in stock, you couldn't be too careful. Well, today wasn't the normal day, Dave recalled. He stepped into the dark stock room and was taken aback by the sound of hammering. It sounded like a sledge pounding on... their gun safe! Dave pulled the revolver from his waistband and slipped up to the entry into the armory room. There lay Mel on the floor, bloody and taped up with layers of duct tape. Beyond him two scumbags worked on the safe. One held a chisel and tried to peel the door back from it's hinges as his accomplice swung the heavy hammer. Dave stepped out into the doorway and spoke in a hard voice, "Drop those tools and stand very still, or I will put a bullet through you sons-a-bitches." The two were startled at his voice and after getting a glimpse of his barrel pointed at them, dropped their tools and froze in place. "Turn around and put your hands on the safe." Dave commanded. As they hesitated he growled "Do it, do it now!" They followed his instructions without comment. Dave could see his dad nodding his head and trying to speak from behind his taped mouth. At least he was alive. "Get on your knees now!" Dave said forcefully. The two dropped like they were pole axed. Dave made to step in and cut his dad loose. But behind him the door to the sales floor swung open and Dave ducked, spinning toward the sound. The door jam where his head had been exploded as buckshot tore into it from a third thief's shotgun. Dave flinched, but squeezed his trigger three times into the blur that was the back shooter. A cry escaped from the figure as the Carbon .38+P 125 grain slugs ripped through his body. The sound of the shots was deafening, but Dave saw shadows moving behind him in the armory room. He spun again catching the sledgehammer wielding thief in mid swing. He shot to his feet and closed inside the swing of the great hammer ramming his revolver's muzzle into the bastard's throat and squeezed off another round. With a strangled scream, the loser dropped to his back and the sledge fell from his grasp. The last burglar looked from his companion's spurting neck to Dave's gun pointing at his chest. "No! Please, I'm sorry. I give up, please don't shoot me!" The scumbag returned to his knees and placed his hands back on the safe. "If you move one inch I'll put you in the grave, you understand me?" Dave was shaken but pissed and ready for battle. "Is there anyone else in here?" Dave asked the kneeling thief. "No sir! Just us three, I swear." The burglar began to blubber as he heard his buddy on the floor rasp his final breath and go still. Dave flicked out his Commander pocket knife and keeping the man at the safe covered, he cut away the tape holding his dad's hands and feet. Once his hands were free, Mel took the knife and carefully cut his gag away, then gasped for fresh air. Panting, he gave Dave a thankful nod and asked him, "Are you ok boy?" "Yeah dad, you look kind'a beat up though." Dave eyed the blood from Mel's nose and mouth. "They caught me opening the side door. I could'a taken 'em if there was just two!" The ol' man was still a pistol, thought Dave. He handed his revolver to Mel. "Here, cover him while I get something to tie him up with. Dave picked up the sledgehammer and eased open the door blocked by the still legs of the shotgun toting robber in the shop. His eyes were glazed over and his chest was not moving. There were three holes in his torso, but Dave felt no remorse. Maybe later, but now he was still mad about the beating they has inflicted on his dad, to say nothing of this one trying to blow his head off. Dave took the shotgun from the frozen hand and went to get some plastic zip-ties from the fishing department. Returning to the back room, he secured the thief's hands behind his back, then roughly pulled him outside and hogtied his feet, leaving him on the sidewalk. He got his dad to the couch in the office and brought him a bottle of water from the 'fridge. "Hang here Dad", Dave requested, "I'm going to run this guy down to the police station". "Alright son, good job." It was mighty praise from the ol' man, and Dave enjoyed a rare shoulder shake from the head of the family. He passed Dave his truck key and the younger Bowden left the office with a lump in his throat. After checking both down burglars for a pulse and finding none, Dave scooped up the lucky one and dragged him to his dad's truck, tossing him over the side into the bed. As he started the pickup, he shook his head at the events of this crazy day. Who knew what lay ahead, he wondered. He was soon to find out this was closer to the beginning of the insanity than the end. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Eruption chapter four It was after two o'clock when the police arrived to remove the bodies from Fins & Skins. Dave had dropped off the surviving thief to a nearly deserted station. The female officer at the desk had taken his statement and warned him it could be several hours before detectives could arrive at the store. Dave radioed Peter to tell they'd be late, and promised to tell him why when they arrived. His dad and he had used the time to nail plywood sheets to the broken front windows and toss the melting bait fish in the dumpster before the store became a stink bomb. Each time Dave passed the bodies of the two dead burglars, he wondered what had caused their turn down the road that led to the barrel of his gun. Both were in their twenties by the look of them, and could have bought any weapon they chose with a job. He had never shot anyone before, and expected some real remorse to strike him at any moment. But every time he saw the swollen face of his father, he felt more rage than sympathy. After a second round of statements and a bunch of photographs of the crime scene, Dave and Mel were cleared to lock up the shop. Dave noticed the haggard look of the two detectives and shivered at the sheer numbers of deaths the pair had seen, and were still to see on this terrible day. Dave pulled his dad aside and requested he follow him back to his house. He layed out Peter's plan to evacuate the family by plane. Mel would have nothing to do with it. "I'm not leaving my place to be torn apart by low lifes!" he raged. "You and your brother get Joan and those kids out, but I'm staying put." "But what about mom, don't you think she should go with us?", Dave asked. "She stays with me son. I doubt she wants to change that just because of some earthquakes." The ol' man was unshakable. "I'll see you when you get back from aunt Maggies". With that he climbed into his pick-up and pulled out to make his way back up the Cascade highway. Dave was left to cuss under his breath at the stubborn hierarch. This was a decision mom should make herself. He'd get Peter and his brood on the plane and then head up the hill to check on Mom. With a sigh, he jumped on his bike and headed back around Evergreen to go home. The wind felt good on his face, he was sore like he'd been rode hard and put away wet. Every bone in his body called out for a hot bath and a good night's sleep. The streets were becoming dangerous without signal lights, and the police stretched thin. People were tossing traffic laws to the wind. He watched a van determined to beat the crowd, jump the curb and roar down the sidewalk. Pedestrians scattered, dropping their bundles to avoid being run over. One man pulled a pistol from his bag and put several rounds into the back of the fleeing vehicle, others scrambled to find cover, some carrying children. Shaking his head, Dave skirted the block and continued home with his head on a swivel. The overpass at 526 was closed by a roadblock. They were not allowing people to drive farther south, but sending them back towards downtown Everett. Dave avoided the mess and cut across the mini-mall parking lot and zipped up the landscaped hill dividing it from the frontage road. The freeway was empty, so he kept to the shoulder and bypassed roadblocks at each off ramp. Reaching Forest drive, he popped back on the buckled road and made for the house. The exodus from the neighborhood was almost complete. Just a few stragglers made their way past him towards the freeway. With the creek bridge out, this was the only main road leading them away. Dave pulled down the hill and onto his street, noticing all the wide open doors and garages indicating the owners had fled. Entering his driveway, he saw the tent was up and the kids helping Joan clean up after lunch. It seemed bizarre in light of the wreckage behind them. Peter came from the garage and after greetings, motioned Dave to follow him back. Once down the drive, he turned and blurted, "Where is dad?" "Don't start Peter", Dave implored, "I tried to get him to follow me but he flat refused!" "You had all afternoon to radio me, I'd..." Peter's rage was interrupted by Dave's outburst. "Damn it Peter! We had a break-in, and Dad was hurt. Not bad, but I couldn't budge him from leaving back to the property." Dave's tone caught Peter by surprise and stopped his protests as Dave continued. "I had to shoot two of the robbers... I killed them". His voice felt like white noise, all static, with no resemblance to his normal tone. Peter was taken aback. "I'm sorry man. You ok?" Dave's shrug was a concession to the stress. He explained what had happened, and the police removing the bodies. He finished by recounting the encounter at the airport, and Paul's promise to try and return to the seaplane dock by dark. Peter took it all in, and then pulled two folding chairs from the stack he'd been making of stuff they might need. Dave flopped in his like it was a feather bed. He couldn't remember being this tired, and it was only... glancing at his beloved Fortis self winder, he couldn't believe it was only 3:30 in the afternoon! They had thirty minutes to decide if they were to trust the strangers at Paine field, or take a chance on Paul getting them out. They discussed it, and Peter agreed with Dave's assessment that waiting was preferable to entrusting his family to money hungry opportunists. Dave tried once more to persuade Peter to go with them on the flight. Peter gave it some thought. Looking towards the campsite in the front yard, it was obvious he'd like nothing better than to stick with his family. But after a few seconds his face hardened and he shook his head. "No, I'm going up to Concrete with you, and getting mom out. If that ol' bastard gives me any grief, I re-tape his ass to the hood!" Dave's eyes lit up at the thought, and they both broke out in brief laughter. Dave had to admit it was good to have Peter around. "Well", Dave started them moving, "we should make small packs for Joan and the kids. Oh, and split the cash. Let's give her my S&W snubbie revolver just in case, ya think?" "Good idea', Peter replied, "let's get started". They grabbed three day packs from the garage and began to fill them with the needed cash, some food, water and blankets. Joan came down to check on them and they explained their plans to her careful nodding. She accepted the small revolver in it's holster along with two spare ammo strips. Slipping them into her jeans, she hugged Dave and went back to get the kids ready. The two brothers avoided the story of the break-in by mutual telepathy. Then was no purpose in adding to her anxiety at leaving Peter behind. Dave dug into his sea bags to equip the Wilson Tactical Elite. It was a custom made pistol and had more accuracy and power than his small carry gun. He sheathed it in a Safariland 560 pancake holster, and added a twin magazine pouch to the other side of his belt. He loaded them with 230 grain Black Talon ammo he'd been saving for an emergency. After seeing the shooting on the street and enduring the break-in, he felt no twinge of being over armed. With that thought, Dave loaded the shotguns with 00 buckshot, and fed slugs onto the shell carriers on both butt stocks. He leaned Big Red's back bench seat forward, and in the hanging long gun sling he kept there, slid the two shotguns in and secured the seat back. Waves of sleepiness washed over him, and he realized he needed some coffee badly. He took a break from the preparations and began to load the coffee pot. Joan took it from him and settled him in a folding chair. "I'll do that cowboy, your coffee always tastes like squid ink." She kissed his head to soften the blow. Dave grunted indignantly, but closed his eyes and leaned his whirling head back. While it was good to close his eyes, he noticed there were no birds chirping as usual. Bright creatures, they'd likely flown east to avoid the disaster. Soon Joan and the kids would be joining them, winging their way higher and higher to crest the Cascade mountains, and over the hill to safety. Dave imagined he was a bird, and from far above he could see the destruction of Seattle, and the great eruptions from the two volcanoes to the south. He flew close to Paul's seaplane and took up formation on his wing. Inside the cockpit, the kids were waving to him... "Drink this sleepy head, I can't stand the snoring!" Joan woke him from the short nap, and he sheepishly took the steaming mug, enjoying the warmth. It was after four and the northwestern sun was already behind the tall pines bringing a chill to the air. Dave sipped the go juice from the side of this mouth to avoid his split lip. When he was finished he splashed his face with water and wiped off the day's dirt with a paper towel. He helped Peter arrange everything in the back of Big Red and they piled in for the ride downtown. They pulled out to an empty neighborhood, and took their time bumping over the rippled pavement. Several times they had to crunch over fallen limbs and Peter suggested they add Dave's chainsaw to their stash for the trip up to Concrete. They made it down Forest and followed the path across the freeway that the police had cleared. Only one squad car was left on 526, and he stood guard beneath the huge Boeing sign painted on the side of the world's largest building. The humongous hangers still stood tall, but several of the airframes in progress sat flat on the tarmac. Their landing gear had not been up to the massive shaking from the earthquake. Dave wondered how one got a 747 back on it's feet. He shook his head and concentrated on the road. Hell, he must still be dingy. At Evergreen, they crossed the overpass and joined the slowly moving line of vehicles making their way north. Dave kept the radio off, as there was no need to worry everyone more. Their plans had been made, and right or wrong, they had to follow through on them. It took almost an hour to arrive at the seaport. Once again, there was no plane on the ramp. Dave left Peter and his family in the truck and went inside to find out what was happening. "Hey shug!", Randy greeted him. "Paul just radioed, he's on his way back. He should be here in about thirty minutes. Want some coffee?" "Thanks Randy, but I'll be back in a minute. I've got to tell my brother what's going on." Dave exited and informed the truck on the time table. Peter sent the kids inside with Dave but he and Joan stayed out in the truck to say their goodbyes. Understanding, Dave ushered the two kids back inside and gave them both soft drinks from the open machine. They played with the model planes in the waiting room while Dave and Randy sat on the couch with some coffee. "Where you two going to sleep tonight hun?" Randy inquired. Avoiding the obvious ploy, Dave mentioned they had set up camp in his yard. But Randy bored in for the kill. "No need to catch cold darlin', our house is still standing, and we've got plenty of warm beds to choose from". She sucked some coffee from her red fingernail. "Thanks Randy, we'll see. There's still some gear we need from the house and we're getting up early to go to Concrete for the folks". Dave had to admire her tenacity, and her ample cleavage. Lord, he was getting as lewd as he was tired. Dave loved women, but he drew the line at friend's wives. Randy leaned over to him, exposing more voluptuous valley and took his cup for a refill. Well, it was more of a guideline than a rule. Dave mused at the movie reference. He walked over to the kids to clear his head of any more of this line of thought. "Which one will we be flying in Uncle Dave?" Sam spun the propeller of one of the models. "This one Sam", Dave indicated a sleek white Cessna 206 with yellow stripes. "Cool!" Sam was excited. "This is the first time I've been in a seaplane". Becky was less thrilled. "When are you and Daddy coming, Uncle Dave?" Dave looked into her pretty blue eyes. He could see his mother's features in her upturned face. "Soon honey, we'll be along as soon as we bring your grandparents back from their place." After a few minutes of playing with the models, the sound of propellers took their attention to the window. Paul was pulling his plane out of the water and taxiing up the ramp on it's small wheels. Both the kids ran to the window to watch. Randy handed Dave another cup of joe and asked him for some help in the hanger. Opening the connecting door, she plugged in another extension cord to the generator, and asked him to open the hanger door. Dave pulled back the heavy latch and rolled the door back on it's track. "Hit that light switch, Dave". She asked. Dave pulled the big switch down and the flood lights lit up the ramp. Joan passed him to chock the wheels. "Thanks doll, we can't leave 'em plugged in or it drains power from the radio. Tell Joan and the kids it'll be about 15 minutes while we refuel". Dave nodded and returned to the office and told the kids to wait inside. He then went to help Joan unload the packs from the back of the truck. She was upset, but resigned to the situation. "There's fifteen hundred dollars in the front pocket of your pack", Dave told her. "Try and find a flight to Aunt Maggies, and leave us a message at the seaplane terminal if anything comes up." "Thanks Dave", she hugged him and whispered in his ear, "Please be careful, and bring everybody out safely. Promise?" There was a touch of desperation in her plea. "I'll watch it, and we'll get out as soon as we can, I promise. I'm sorry about my ol' man, he's too damn set in his ways!" Dave was embarrassed about splitting the family. "Don't worry", she assured him, "I'll turn his ears back when he gets there." Dave smiled, he knew she was not afraid to go off on Mel or anyone else. They helped Peter carry the bags into the terminal, and had the kids use the bathroom and get drinks for the journey. Dave went outside to assist Paul in pushing a four wheel dolly with fuel barrels to the plane. Paul climbed up to insert the hose while Dave and Peter took turns working the hand pump. It was after six, and dark when the fueling was completed. Paul pushed the fuel dolly back into the hanger and took a bathroom break himself. He then filed a flight plan no one would probably ever see, and told the Bowdens to climb in. Joan strapped the kids into the backseats and took the co-pilot seat as Paul closed the doors. Peter and Dave thanked him again, and with a wave, he started the engine. The two brothers returned the kids farewell waves and watched as the plane spun and taxied into the water. It picked up speed and skimmed across the bay, then lifted it's nose and bore Peter's whole life into the night sky. Dave threw his arm around his brother's shoulders. "They'll be fine bud", he comforted. Peter set his jaw. "Sure, I know they will." His tone didn't match his demeanor though. They rejoined Randy back in the terminal. She hugged Peter and offered more comforting words. "Paul knows this route like the back of his hand darlin', they'll be fine". She promised. "I told Dave you boys can stay at my house tonight and sleep in beds instead of on the ground. What'cha say? I'll feed you dinner too!" She was pouring it on, and Peter missed Dave's nod to leave. "Thanks Randy, that might be nice". Peter saw no reason to sleep out in the cold winter air. "Um, we need that chain saw bro", Dave tried to get Peter's attention. "And we may need that tent somewhere down the road!" "Aw hell, we can pick up that stuff from the store, I want to see what the damage is anyway". Peter turned to Randy, "Thanks for the invite, we'll be back in a little while." Randy beamed with pleasure, "No need, I'll go with you guys, let me get my bag and lock up." Dave exhaled his frustration, but had to admit a warm bed sounded good. They waited for Randy to lock up and then made the short drive down to the store. Randy waited in the truck while Peter and Dave opened the back door and entered. As soon as they were inside Dave punched Peter in the arm. "Didn't you see me signaling you?" He questioned. "That woman is making one pass after another, and I don't want Paul pissed at me!" Peter broke into laughter and rubbing his bruised arm replied. "Aw, I'll protect you widdle man. What a dweeb! Paul could care less. Help me find a flashlight, will ya sweetheart?" Dave growled, and pulled his tiny key chain flashlight out to make their way to the workbench. They found the flashlight and Peter lit the way past the armory. The floor was still covered in blood. Another pool of black waited inside the door to the sales floor. Peter whistled. Dave went out of his way to avoid stepping in the blood he'd shed. "Nice going Dave", Peter was serious now, "I'll bet Dad even thanked you for once." "Yeah, the stupid kids. Stupid!" Dave's voice said he didn't want to talk about it. Peter nodded and they set out to pack another tent, some camping gear and find the store's chainsaw. It took them about fifteen minutes then they locked up and loaded the gear in the back of Big Red. They pulled off Marina and up the few blocks to Paul and Randy's place. Dave backed the truck up into the driveway. He grabbed some fresh clothes out of the back and setting the alarm, followed the others into the home. Randy had already lit some candles and was going from room to room lighting more. The place looked like a harem with all the silk pillows and candle light. Dave groaned quietly to himself. Peter tested the gas stove, and whooped to find it working. "Great, that means we can shower, if that's ok, Randy?" He asked. "Of course doll, there's towels in the bathroom cabinet". She called. "Dave, you go first", Peter offered, "You could use some cleaning up". "Thanks, I'll do that." Dave shot back. "Save us some hot water." Peter grinned. For the second time today Dave took stock of himself in a candle lit mirror. It had only grown worse, as now he sported a fat lip, beard stubble and circles under his eyes. He quoted Indiana Jones to his reflection. "It's not the years, it's the mileage." The warm water was heaven on Dave's tired body, but he hurried as best as he could. After a shave and brushing his teeth, he felt almost human again. As he was rinsing his mouth, Randy entered the bathroom without knocking. Dave clutched the towel around his waist, but Randy opened the medicine cabinet and squeezed some Neosporin on her finger. She laughed at his display of modesty, and held his face to apply the cream to his busted lip. "Hold still you big baby. No need to let that go untreated." Her red tipped fingers smoothed the goo over his wound. Dave was not without some discomfort at the gesture, and felt a hot flash build from beneath his towel. "There", she said finishing, "Come in and help me finish dinner". She was clearly having a great time with her guests. Peter showered while Dave helped Randy put steaks in the oven, and chopped potatoes for her to mash. She sent him to set the table, and open some wine from the pantry. The smell of the food was overpowering. Dave was starving and the dinner table seemed surreal after the day he'd endured. Randy made a salad from the still cool produce in the crisper. Peter emerged and vocalized his pleasure in the smell and ambiance of the dinner. Randy was thrilled and they piled into the meal with relish. Dave couldn't remember when he'd enjoyed an oven cooked steak so much. The wine was a good Cabernet Sauvignon, and they opened two bottles to wash down the feast. After the meal and conversation, Peter and Dave helped Randy clear the table and wash up. It was only eight o'clock, but Dave's eyes drooped as he retired to the couch. Randy showed both brothers to spare bedrooms, and bid them goodnight. Dave couldn't keep his eyes open and he was sure he would sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. But sleep didn't come. His mind wouldn't stop going over the events of the day. The bodies of the woman and her small child played on an endless loop. Sandwiched between each scene, he relived the gun fight again and again. His house tried to swallow him as well. He rolled back and forth to clear his head. He finally drifted off into fitful sleep. He was awakened by what he took for another earthquake. He sat up with a start as the bed shook in the darkness. But a hand touched his chest, and he felt Randy slipping under the covers. "Randy, I don't think this is such a good idea." He rasped. Her heat was undeniable. She slipped off her tee shirt and climbed on top of him. "Don't think". She whispered. The blood drained out of his brain, and thinking was thankfully forgotten. When he awoke, faint sunlight was peeking in through the blinds. It took him a moment to remember where he was. He noticed he was alone, Randy had returned to her room sometime in the night. He wanted to condemn himself for his weakness, but the release of sex, no, great sex, had sent the ugly visions from his head. He'd slept like a baby, and felt rejuvenated. He slipped out of bed and into fresh jeans and shirt. He pulled on clean socks and his hiking boots, and went through the routine of filling his pockets and strapping on his gun. He made the bed, and stepped into the bathroom and lit a candle. His reflection looked much better today, though he shook his head at the wavering integrity behind his facade. He brushed his teeth and washed his kisser. He opened the bathroom door to find Peter yawning in the hall and awaiting his turn. "Have a good night?" Peter chided with an smile. Dave swallowed his embarrassment and pushed by his sibling with a shrug. He could smell coffee and entering the kitchen, found Randy making breakfast. He mumbled, "Good morning", and she trapped him against the counter with a breath sucking kiss. "Good morning to you too baby. I had fun". She whispered into his ear. Then she returned to setting the table and poured him some coffee. "Want bacon or sausage?" she asked. Dave was taken aback, but managed "Bacon, please." Lord, Peter was never going to let him live this down. He took a seat at the table and when Peter joined them, Randy fed them both a big breakfast. She asked them to wait until she dressed, and then to take her back to the terminal. Peter was gratefully mum while they cleaned up the dishes. He did whistle a happy tune that dug under Dave's skin. Dave took their dirty clothes and packed the truck then warmed her up to get away from Peter's musical recriminations. They dropped off Randy and said they hoped to be back later that day. She promised to have Paul hold a flight for them if possible. Peter thanked her, but Dave couldn't get out the words. With a warm wave she sent them on their way. Peter told Dave he'd drive if Dave was too tired, but Dave only growled and set himself for the hundred mile drive. They worked their way north and were happy to see the steel bridge intact over the Snohomish river. They passed under the 5 freeway and took Old Pacific hi way east out of Marysville. Turning north on old hi way 9, they passed scenes of destruction as well as relatively untouched areas. Entering Sedero Woolley, they turned east and climbed the Cascade incline on hi way 20. The road was narrow and winding, with places they could see where fallen trees had been pushed off the road. Just past Hamilton, the bridge over Alder creek had fallen. They pulled off the road and followed the railroad easement over the wooden trestle bridge. Peter was a bit nervous, Dave noted with pleasure. They made it across and at Hoyle lane pulled back down onto hi way 20. The bridge over Grandy creek had withstood the quake and they pulled into Concrete about thirty minutes later. Taking Baker River road north along Lake Shannon, they forded several low creek bridges and arrived at Mel's gate. His usual array of repaired lawn mowers and other equipment lined the fence. Mel ran a repair shop, and his gate was usually open, but today it was off it's hinges and badly bent, like it had been rammed. Peter and Dave exchanged a worried glance and pulled up the dirt road leading back to their parent's home. Easing Big Red along, Dave noticed a pick-up he didn't recognize in front of the homestead. Beside it were parked several 4x4 off road ATVs. Peter touched Dave's arm. "Hold up bro, I don't like this. Pull into that draw by the pond." Peter indicated a place to conceal the truck. Dave followed his instructions, and they parked. "Let's take some rifles, just in case." Peter requested. They opened the canopy and uncased his two ARs. Dave took stripper clips from his stash and loaded ten 30 round mags, dividing them evenly. They stuffed the spare mags into a couple of fanny packs and loaded one into each gun. Racking the cocking handle, they dialed the gun's selector switch to safe. Peter slapped Dave on the back, "You ready to go?" He asked. "Yeah", Dave replied, "But I'm getting tired of having gun fights every day". Peter grinned. "Let's hope we don't need these", he nodded to the weapons. "Why don't we come in from behind the shop and see if we can tell what's going on". Dave followed his brother down the wash and through the trees to a spot behind the ol' man's repair shop. They ducked into some bushes about twenty yards from the house. Just as they were getting settled, a stranger came running through the back yard with an AK-47 in his hand. A nasty looking cohort came out on the back porch to meet him. "Well?" The one on the porch asked. "We got 'em cornered in a gully down by the creek". The winded AK carrier rasped. A shot rang out from the forest. "Heh, Dale's keeping their heads down." The winded one exclaimed. "Ok, get the Kawasaki and let's go get them." The nasty one on the porch picked up an SKS rifle from beside him and waited for the other one to bring up the ATC. Dave and his brother gave each other a nod and flicked off their safeties. It looked like today was going to be as bloody as yesterday had been. -------------------------------------------------------------------- Eruption chapter five Peter and Dave unzipped the tops of the fanny packs that held their spare magazines. Peter whispered to Dave to stay hidden and cover him. As both intruders mounted the ATC, he stood with a tree trunk in between them and took aim. "Hold it, drop those rifles or I will shoot you!" Peter shouted at the surprised goons. Neither man complied, and both gave Peter a look of disdain. The rider whispered something to the driver Dave couldn't hear over the engine's clamor. "I said drop those guns and freeze!" Peter was taken aback by their casual refusal of his orders. "Who the hell are you?" The passenger asked with a spit of tobacco. "This is my place, and you have three seconds to drop those weapons or I'm going to put you down." Peter yelled. Dave was taking aim at the driver and ready to fire from his concealment. He had a feeling these guys weren't going to cooperate and placed his finger on the carbine's trigger. Come on you assholes, don't make me shoot anyone else today, he thought. "One!... Two!... Peter was counting when the side window of the house had it's glass explode outward, and a large chunk of Peter's cover tree burst into toothpicks. The gunshot sent Peter dropping to the ground, and both men on the ATC rolled off behind it for cover. Dave immediately swung his sights onto the window and began pumping rounds through the busted glass just as another flash of gunfire erupted. They had Peter trapped in a crossfire, and the two behind the ATC began firing into Peter's tree to keep his occupied. Dave switched his fire to the ATC and the driver's head jerked back in a splatter of red. The Passenger re-directed his fire toward Dave's bush, sending leaves and branches hailing down on his head. Dave realized he had concealment, but no cover! He began to crab back wards toward the corner of the shop. Peter saw Dave's predicament and took aim at the ATC, showering it with a full metal jacketed rain. The passenger emptied his ten round magazine and couldn't move to reload without exposing himself to the fusillade from Peter's AR. With no more fire coming from the window, Dave added his firepower to the ATC which was being chewed apart. The SKS rifle came flying over the ATC and landing in the dirt of the driveway. "Hold up!" The scumbag shouted. "Hey, I give up, ok?" Peter stopped shooting and gave a Dave a glance to see if he was alright. Dave took the opportunity to change magazines and rack a new round into the chamber. He gave Peter a nod, and Peter did the same. "Get out from behind there with your hands up!" Peter sounded pissed. Dave took aim at the side window and called, "If there is anybody inside, you better get your ass out here right now, or we'll shoot whoever we find inside!" There was no response from the house, but the SOB behind the ATC stood, and walked out a few steps with his hands over his head. His smirk made Dave want to put a round between his feet, but he kept his sights on the window. "Get your face in the dirt", Peter commanded. "If you look up or move a muscle, your dead." The dirt bag complied slowly, but kept his face down. Peter looked to Dave and used hand signals to show he'd cover and for Dave to circle around to the front door of the house. Dave nodded and got ready to run. Peter took aim at the broken window and let fly with a string of shots that made the prone intruder eat dirt. Dave was up at the first round and flew to the corner of the house. He slipped up on the front porch and with a wave to Peter, crawled beneath a window and to the front door. It was slightly open, and when Peter's gunfire stopped, Dave pushed it wide and took a quick peek inside. There was a still body on the floor of the living room beneath the broken window. After a quick check of the rest of the front room, Dave whistled to Peter and removed the M1 Garand from the dead man's reach. Dave's 69 grain FMJ rounds had walked up the window sill and drilled through his body several times. Ripping down the tattered curtain, Dave returned outside to help Peter truss the surviving trespasser, hand and foot to a tree. The bad guy's smirk never wavered, but he didn't say a word. "Ok, lets work our way down to the creek and see if we can find the other one", Peter said with venom. "I'll take the left side of the road", Dave suggested and trotted into the trees hugging the dirt path leading down to the creek. He could see glimpses of Peter on the other side jogging along keeping the noise to a minimum. The road rose up a gentle hill and crested about a hundred yards from the small cement bridge over the shallow running water. The land was cleared back from the water's edge, and natural gullies led away from the bridge on both sides. About fifty yards over the rise from the creek, a shot rang out from behind a fallen tree. Dave saw dust splash up from the gully on the left. No return shots or any sign of life began to worry him. Was Mel conserving ammo, or had he been hit? And what of his mother! He saw Peter stalking his way behind the shooter, and moved forward to cover him. Once they were closer, Dave noticed the shooter kept looking back in their direction. Both he and Peter went prone and finished their approach by crawling. The fallen tree was on Dave's side of the road, and when he found a good covering position behind a large stump, he settled in and took aim at the trespassing sniper. He looked over but couldn't see Peter, hopefully he had found cover and done the same. "Drop that gun, and get your hands up!" Dave shouted. The thug spun quickly and fired off an amazingly accurate round that punched into Dave's stump. Before he could recover from his flinch, he saw a flash from Peter's side of the road and the bad guy grunted heavily. He fought to swing his rifle toward Peter, but another flash of gunfire spun him around and laid him out over the tree trunk. "You ok?" Dave heard Peter call. "Yeah, keep low, there may be more of them", Dave warned. Dave wormed his way over to the fallen sniper and threw his weapon, an AK47, into the road. Peering over the body, he checked for pulse, there was none. He signaled to Peter with a finger drawn across his neck. Peter lowered his head, and shook it sadly. Keeping cover, Dave shouted down to the gully. "Dad, are you down there?" A familiar head of white hair popped up from the gully, and then dropped back out of sight. "Is that you, David?" Mel shouted. "Yeah! We're coming down there, watch your fire!" Dave was not in a trusting mood. "Come ahead, but be careful. There's more of the sons-a-bitches around, I bet'cha." Mel's voice was strong, and Dave hoped he and May were unhurt. Dave and Peter worked their way down to the clearing and made the dash across to the gully. There lay Mel and May, both looking worn out, but not leaking from any bullet holes. Dave breathed a sigh of relief and pulling her up, hugged his mother. Peter made straight for Mel and lashed into him. "Damn it Dad, why didn't you bring mom with you and stay in town! This is the most insane stunt you've ever pulled", Peter knocked his dad's raised hand away, "Don't even give me any crap, you're coming back with us right now!" May pulled away from Dave's embrace and touched Peter's arm. "He had no choice son. They had me tied up and forced him to drive them down to the store for guns". Dave and Peter were floored at this news and Dave stammered out, "You mean mom was being held hostage and you didn't tell the police anything about it!" His voice rose to a shout and he advanced on his ol' man. "You bastard! If mom had been..." "Hold it David!" His mom turned to push him back. "Mel did what he thought was best for me, and he didn't want to involve you or the police. The local sheriff wasn't any use the last time we had a run in with these creeps, and it could have gotten me killed." Dave was again blown away by the unfolding story. "You mean these scumbags have hassled you before?" His voice was back to normal tones. "A few weeks back", his mom continued, "They wanted Mel to do some work on their military rifles, but he refused. They got nasty and he ran 'em off with a shotgun. We called the sheriff, but he said there wasn't much he could do but keep a watch on them." "Useless as tits on a boar!" Mel spat. "So how did", Peter began, but May held up her hand and continued her story. "They came in yesterday, snuck over the fence and forced us to do what they wanted. After three of them took your father to town, they locked the gate, and tied me up. I was so afraid I'd never see Mel again." She reached down and caressed the ol' man's noggin. "He got the better of them somehow", Peter and Dave exchanged glances, "and came back with his rifle from the store safe". "Dad", Dave blurted, "You went back to the store after we left!?" Mel patted his well worn M1A with a smile. May looked at him in a questioning way, but finished the tale as she knew it. "Mel busted through the gate and got the drop on those three that stayed after the others left. He made them cut me loose and toss their guns out the front door. Then we tried to get away in the truck, but they shot out the tires as we turned around in the drive. I guess they had pistols we didn't see." Mel took over, "I just ran on flats through the trees toward the creek, and we almost made it across the bridge before they caught up on that 4x4 motorcycle. I kept 'em off us, but we couldn't get out of that gully until dark". Peter interrupted, "Dad, they were about to rush you when we arrived. You just don't think sometimes! The police could have..." "I was doing fine boy!" the stubborn senior spewed. "Let 'em try, I'd punch holes in 'em one by one!" Dave rolled his eyes at this display of bravado. "Who are these guys?" he asked. "There's about thirty or forty of 'em. They are living down at the old Myer's place near the lake. Bunch'a drug addicts and thugs", Mel sneered. "Bikers and whores, I hear the women work at that strip joint over in Burlington. They beat up Mike Buchanan's boy for looking at 'em wrong a few weeks ago. Put him the hospital with a broken jaw. Sheriff didn't do squat!" "Christ!" Peter had had enough. "Ok, let's get back to Dave's truck and get out of here now!" The family slung their weapons and began the climb up the grade away from the creek. They passed Mel's truck at the edge of the clearing, useless now with both rear tires shredded. As they kept to the trees for cover, Dave began to discuss what next to do. "We've got one tied up at the house Dad", he said. "We should take him into town and turn him over to the sheriff". "Sounds good to me", Mel replied. "I've got a few choice words for that lilly livered tin star!" "And he'll have a few words for you too Dad!" Peter snapped. "You'll have to explain why you didn't mention the kidnapping in the Everett police report. We don't want anyone thinking we had a vendetta with these bikers. Just tell the truth, and we'll deal with the consequences later". They passed the body of the sniper and Dave thought to get his AK from the road. He looked back and forth, didn't it land just about... The hair on his neck leaped to attention as he sensed danger. "Get down!", he yelled. And just in time as the woods ahead of them erupted in gunfire. Peter pulled his mom to safety behind the sniper's log, and the rest took cover where they could and returned fire. Never having served in combat, Dave wasn't used to the buzzing of metal bees and splat of bullets hitting the trees around them. But when your family is endangered, your motivation is clear, he reasoned. Changing to a fresh mag, he motioned to get Peter's attention. "You and Dad stay here and watch the flanks. I'm going to try and circle around them and see what we're up against." Peter pumped his head, and told Dave to be careful. He and Mel took a few shots as cover while Dave wormed his way into the woods. He'd done this a thousand times as a kid. Peter and he aways played army in these woods, and they has spent no small amount of time hunting there as well. Every moss covered rock and tree trunk looked familiar and Dave soon made a wide circle behind where he'd seen muzzle flashes. Although it was high noon, the sun found few places to reach the ground. Thick cedar and pines intermingled to form a canopy he's always found beautiful. Now he used the shadows to inch forward, stopping often to listen for movement. Presently he heard footsteps running in his direction. He made himself small and prepared to shoot, but the steps passed him by and slid to a stop about twenty yards ahead. Dave moved into a stand of bushes and took cover behind a thick tree trunk. From his position, he could see their prisoner was free and giving orders to two other seedy looking cohorts. The leader motioned as he instructed one to cross the road and flank the family's hiding place. The minion didn't seem to like the idea of crossing the open road and hunkered down, shaking his head. This enraged the leader and he drew a pistol and stuck it under the frightened goon's chin. Dave couldn't hear what was said, but the leader's message was understood, and his companion took off running for the far side of the road. Dave placed his red-dot site on the fleeing back and was about to squeeze the trigger when more footsteps approached his spot from behind. Again he sucked dirt and laid still as the boots pounded just past him. But this time they stopped, and Dave could see the bad guy trying to make out who was lying in the bushes. He quickly spun his barrel into the figure and popped off half a dozen rounds. The surprised biker fell back wards, flopping toward his buddies below. Immediately his covering tree was peppered with incoming rounds. He rolled to the other side of the trunk and took aim around it, but the bikers had already taken cover themselves. They exchanged gunfire several times and Dave's AR again ran dry. He pulled out his next to last mag, and slammed it home determined to ration his shots. Knowing it's bad to remain static, Dave crabbed back wards until he gained more cover. He moved quietly to the left, trying to flank the two intruders. The leader had the same idea, and appeared from behind a tree covering the place Dave had vacated. He signaled to his partner to move around him. The fellow scumbag crouched down and ran right into Dave's sights. Dave's CAR barked and this man's threat was stilled forever. The leader dove for cover, and screamed to the forest, "Close in on him!" Dave could hear several more people crashing though the underbrush behind him. This was not good. He again crabbed in reverse, keeping the tree trunk between him and the leader. Soon he was behind the crest of the hill and rising to a crouch, backed off into the forest. The leader popped off some rounds but Dave couldn't see where the ass clown was aiming. Off to the right, there was movement in the trees and Dave dropped prone again. He could make out three more armed men moving from tree to tree. He'd managed to put about fifty yards behind him, and they were focused on a point in front of his position. He was quietly crawling back wards from them when he was startled by a flash of movement behind him! In an instant, he prepared for a bullet in the back, but a fox blew past him dashing off through the tree trunks. No sooner than he had bowed his head in relief, then a call from the men rang out. "There he is! Over this way!" One of them had seen his movement. Once again, zipping slugs peppered his position. Oh crap, he thought, and keeping low, he ran down the incline. Never keeping a straight path for more than a few steps, he avoided the barrage and slid down into a six foot draw that meandered down towards the creek. As soon as he was out of their line of sight, he ran full speed back up the draw closer to the house. But soon his concealment ran out as the draw was blocked by a fallen tree whose branches had pulled loose from the bank in some rain storm. It's roots reached out like a nest of spider legs and would force him to break cover to pass. Damn. He quickly crawled up the bank and using a small bush, looked for his pursuers. They were closing fast and one pulled up and sent a round into the dirt by Dave's head. He ducked back down, but not before noticing the four of them were flanking his position. Dave knew he was in trouble. For the first time since they'd shot at his family, the rage was replaced by fear. If he didn't come up with something quickly, he was going to die in this ravine. His eyes darted over the terrain, the cave created by the tree roots, the mossy rocks and carpet of leaves on the floor of the draw, even a sapling struggling to right itself on the steep green bank. He touched his plaid shirt, and fingered the length of para cord tied to his fanny pack. It was time for some of his old paint ball tricks. Only this time blood would replace paint if he failed. With his life on the line, Dave popped off some rounds over the berm to slow them down and set to work. Above in the forest, the smirking leader saw his advantage. He signaled to the man on his left to circle around behind the tree. To the two others he pointed his hand to the right. They nodded and worked their way carefully toward the ravine. Now he had this SOB cornered. He hoped they wouldn't kill him outright, a little fun with a knife would make up for his embarrassment at being captured in front of his reinforcements. Not one to take chances, he took up a covered position and let his crew close in. If this bastard got past them, he'd be ready to blow him away at first sight. Once the three were close to the lip, he chopped his arm down, sending them in all at once. The gangster closest to the tree trunk, slid his barrel down into the draw but found no target. The other two did the same from the opposite side but also couldn't find Dave. Where was this guy? Then one of the bikers on the rim called out. "There he is! In the tree roots!" He yelled. His companion also saw a sliver of the plaid shirt trying to hide in the cave created by the massive roots. They both opened up on the hiding place, blowing it to smithereens. Roots and mud exploded, covering the body in a shower of debris. From his position, the leader saw them turn and signal the bastard was gone. But this guy had taken out a bunch of his men, and the gang leader waved them down to check it out. Both men jumped into the draw and walked forward while covering the blasted root cave. One waved the third biker to check it out. He grinned and leaped down to the base of the tree and sent two rounds into the patch of plaid. This guy was a goner. He slung his rifle and crawled into the fallen roots to inspect the body. Suddenly from behind the two approaching bikers, a sapling sprung upright with a rustle of leaves. Both men spun their rifles to cover the noise, but closer to the tree, Dave rose from beneath the pile of leaves he'd covered himself with. He dropped the para cord and his .45 pistol boomed twice, sending them to the next world. Dave rolled on his stomach covering the third biker who struggled to shoulder his rifle through the clinging roots. Their eyes met as Dave took aim at his chest, and the goon's last sight was the flash from the big pistol's bore. Dave holstered his handgun and dug his carbine from under the leaves. He popped his head over the rim to locate the leader. Above, the lead biker had been surprised to hear pistol fire, then amazed to see Dave's head peek over the edge of the draw! He roared his displeasure and emptied his magazine at this bastard who refused to die. Then he turned and ran for the ATCs at the house. He had to escape! Dave moved to a new spot and again peeked over the rim to see the leader running pell mell in the opposite direction. With a tight grin, Dave set off in pursuit. He ran in a serpentine manner from tree to tree, knowing there was at least one more biker in the forest. The lead biker had no such concerns, and pulled ahead, crashing through the trees. At about a hundred yards, the biker crossed a small clearing, and Dave pulled up for a quick shot. But before Dave could line up the fleeing scumbag in his sights, the bastard's back imploded in a shower of scarlet. Dave took cover and in a few seconds saw Peter running in his direction. Behind his brother, Mel broke cover and kicked the lifeless body of the biker before following Peter at his best speed. "Peter!" Dave waved from behind his tree to avoid friendly fire and Peter waved back, making for his position. When his brother reached him, they hugged like they hadn't seen each other for ten years. Mel arrived and between labored breaths he greeted his son. "We didn't know if we'd ever see you again boy!" The ol' man breathed. "You both keep down", Dave demanded, "There is another one that crossed the road." Mel stroked his weapon's wooden stock. "He's gone to meet his maker", he responded with a grin. The senior Bowden seemed to be enjoying this, Dave noticed. Cripes! "Where's mom?" Dave asked. "She's ok", Peter said, "We hid her back about two hundred yards." The older brother squeezed Dave's neck. "You got the rest of them by yourself?", he asked with admiration. "How many were there?" "Three, four, including that one we had tied up." Dave said, nodding toward the dead leader. "You must have been living at the range, I didn't know you were such a good shot!" Peter praised. "I ain't," Dave grinned, "I used our old paint ball ambush, and just got lucky. Let's go get mom and I'll tell you all about it when we're on the way back to town." The three Bowden men made their way back through the trees, using cover in case of more attackers. They made little noise as they moved, and listened to the sound of the forest, as all good hunters do. Tomorrow might be a different story, but for now, they were in their element. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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great story Just don't leave us hanging for to long. |
'Those who would sacrifice freedom for security deserve neither' -- Benjamin Franklin
When the people fear their government, there is tyranny; when the government fears the people, there is liberty. -- Thomas Jefferson
When the people fear their government, there is tyranny; when the government fears the people, there is liberty. -- Thomas Jefferson
Yes it certainly does , like in my yard............... 
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I'm not always right , but I'm not really wrong either!!!
How do you like me now???
"May God have mercy on my enemy , because I won't" G.S.Patton
How do you like me now???
"May God have mercy on my enemy , because I won't" G.S.Patton
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Wow! Good stuff. Keep it coming  And thank you. |
"There is a time for peace and talk and reason; and then, at long last, and only with sadness of heart and mournful admission that all your wisdom and words have failed, you must go kill you some motherfuckers and set some of their shit on fire."
Expanding insurgent minds,one round at a time.
Joined:
Jul 2006
Posts:
743
EE: 100% (276)
AZ, USA
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Thanks for the encouragement folks, I've been enjoying the summer and working on new projects, but I have the outline done for the rest of the story. To be honest, after running it through Word, I was shocked at the gramatic mistakes I made. Heck, I knew better on most of them. Maybe as it gets colder I'll return to do some more. Have a good Fall. 
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Originally Posted By Spyda:
Thanks for the encouragement folks, I've been enjoying the summer and working on new projects, but I have the outline done for the rest of the story. To be honest, after running it through Word, I was shocked at the gramatic mistakes I made. Heck, I knew better on most of them. Maybe as it gets colder I'll return to do some more. Have a good Fall. http://www.uaf.edu/news/featured/07/augustine/images/zoom/09-RedoubtEruption4-21-1990.jpg Don't believe WORD. It's the crappiest word processing software ever devised, and wrong quite often. For example, it recognizes gray but not grey. WORD sucks. Keep writing - great start! |
"Who are you people, and where's my horse?" - George Carlin