“Well,” Gary looked down at his watch. “We still have time if we hurry to get to the airport. Ten minutes. Tom can you call the pilot? Tell him we’re on our way.”
“That’s a good idea.”
Delaney reached for the small gym bag, “Do you think he’ll wait?”
“He should. I mean …” Tom paused when he heard the odd musical note. “What was that?”
Delaney’s eyes widened and she fumbled for the phone. “oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.” She held up the phone. “It’s the app. My brother … my brother is moving. Look Tom.” She showed him the screen. “It says he’s driving. He has his phone.” Her fingers moved fast, calling him.
Tom lifted his phone as well.
“Can we please,” Gabe said. “Make these calls as we move?”
Tom nodded.
“Damn it.” Delaney pulled her phone down. “It rang twice then went to voice mail.”
“The pilot’s not answering either …” Tom said.
“Fuck!” Owen blasted and raced to the window. “There’s why. Apparently, someone didn’t give Jeff, the pilot, the ten minute warning.”
Mid walk to the door, Tom spun around and hurried to the window as well. It was brief and small, but like Owen he saw the plane taking off in the distance.
“He left?” Gary asked.
“He left,” Owen said. “He just left.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Delaney spoke nervously. “You came for me and now look.”
“It’s okay,” Tom said. “We knew it was possible.”
“Plan B,” Gabe added. “We’re not stuck. We go with plan B. Fuel up another plane and I’ll fly us out. We still have plenty of time before the next eruption.”
At that second, a four of five text message alerts went off. Everyone reached to look at their phones.
“It’s me,” Tom said and swiped the screen. His eyes cast down then back up. “Gene. I must not have had a signal. That’s the reason Jeff took off. If I’m calculating right …” he said. “We have eight minutes.”
SEVENTEEN – RACE AGAINST
Ligonier, IN
From the second he emerged from the water, Kyle Davis pretty much knew what had happened. He didn’t need the news or some scientist to tell him, he had it figured out, or at least close.
The morning before he had been at Lake Tippecanoe. It was actually the third day he had been at the lake. A young boy had drowned, and Kyle, an expert rescue diver was out with his crew searching for the body.
No matter how many times he had done so, he always felt horrible for the families that stood on shore, watching with worry and hopelessness. The news would give that story that maybe the victim was on shore lost and confused and in the eighteen years he had been doing it, that only happened once.
More than anything he wanted to give them good news.
Kyle should have and could have died that morning of the event. It boiled down to his mind thinking quickly and his love of old movies.
He wasn’t alone in the lake. He was with Jim, another diver, and the two relief divers were on the boat with other rescue workers.
They had finished the area and were headed to the surface for the other two divers to relieve them when Kyle thought he saw something. Clothing perhaps.
Jim dismissed it, shaking his head, but Kyle didn’t want to take that chance.
He communicated to Jim to ‘go on up’ and he just needed a minute to investigate.
Jim conveyed through signals if Kyle wanted him to stay.
Kyle shook his head and pointed up, letting him know he’d be right there.
It was maybe a couple minutes, longer than he thought. Jim was right in the fact that it wasn’t a body, but it was a shirt. A little shirt with stripes. Kyle knew the report stated the boy of five was wearing a plain colored shirt, but there was a chance with all the emotions his parents didn’t remember correctly.
Once he untangled the shirt, he headed toward the surface, that was when he spotted Jim’s legs.
He didn’t move.
What the hell? Kyle thought and swam upward.
When he emerged, he reached for his mouthpiece, but stopped because before his eyes cast upon Jim, he saw the boat. Had it not been for the arm of one of the divers dangling over the side, he would have removed that breathing valve.
Kyle hesitated.
Then he saw Jim.
Jim had his mouthpiece removed, it wasn’t connected to the tank and floated there. His mouth open, eyes bulging.
Kyle shifted his eyes quickly, from the boat to Jim. He was in the middle of the lake so early no one was around.
He looked to the shore where the family had been standing, and he didn’t see them.
Hurriedly, he grabbed Jim, pulling him to the boat. He couldn’t have been dead for more than a minute. There was time, Kyle thought, to perform CPR.
But when he arrived at the rescue boat, he knew that wasn’t an option.
Everyone on board was dead.
Kyle, still in gear and connected to air, pulled Jim on board.
He had a brief panic moment, wanting to scream seeing his coworkers dead, all looking as if they were gasping.
To perform CPR meant that Kyle had to remove his mouthpiece, and by the looks at how everyone instantly died, Kyle knew that wasn’t an option.
Not if he
