2042: The Great Cataclysm (34 page)

Brad popped his head into Kathy’s office. ‘Why d’you think everyone’s heading up river?’

‘Don’t know. Maybe trying to find a safe anchor.’

‘I still think we should pack up and go home.’ Brad muttered.

Kathy waved him away and went on with her work, speaking in a calm voice to her computer display on her office wall.

At four-fifteen Brad had taken a coffee break to watch the action from the balcony facing the river. Over the sounds of the sirens and Vetos, he heard a tremendous thundering roar. For a moment he thought it was a huge rolling thunderstorm. He turned his eyes to the east and in the fading light saw the sky turn an inky black.

Suddenly the window behind him exploded with a heart stopping crash. Brad instinctively hurled himself to the balcony floor, covering his head with his arms. Glass showered in all directions covering him, and slicing a large gash in his arm.

Kathy ran to the balcony and stumbled as the wild wind force hit her. ‘Brad! Are you all right? What happened? What on earth was that?’

‘I’m okay.’ Brad said, picking himself up and brushing glass from his body.

Just then two police boats went by, lights flashing, sirens screeching. A voice on a loudhailer warned of flooding. Brad and Kathy turned and could not believe their eyes when both boats were picked up by a huge surging wave and carried eastward out of control. A mountain of black water began creeping up and over the river banks. Brad had never seen anything like it in his life.

‘I told you we should’ve gone home! Look! The river’s rising too quickly! The dam must have burst.’ By the time he finished speaking the mounting surge had reached the base of their building and they watched in horror as it continued to rise, flooding the first floor and moving forcefully upward toward the second.

‘We’d better get out of here fast! Brad cried.

‘How? Where can we go, the bottom floors are flooding!’

‘The emergency stairs! They go up to the roof.’

They picked their way carefully over the glass on the office floor to the emergency exit door. When they entered the stairwell the thick door slammed behind them, isolating them from the office and increasing the deafening thunderous roar outside. The air smelled of concrete and dust.

Kathy paused. ‘My phone! I should’ve grabbed my sat-phone.’  She yelled. ‘It’s on my desk. We’ll need it to get help.’

‘I’ll go back for it.’ Brad said grabbing the door as he spoke.

‘It won’t open!’ he cried.

‘Oh, shit!’ Kathy exclaimed. ‘I forgot. The door only opens out. It’s an emergency exit. You can’t get in that way. Security.’

‘Great! Now we really are stuck! We’ll have to try to signal some help from the roof.’

‘What in the dark! We don’t even have a torch. We’ll probably be stuck there until the morning!’

‘Don’t yell at me. It’s not my fault. You’re the one who refused to go home.’

‘Maybe someone’s still on one of the floors above.’

‘Bloody mad if they are!’ Brad said as they hurried up the stairs.

He banged on the door of the sixth floor hoping someone had been bloody mad and stayed behind, but there was no reply.

‘C’mon. There’s nobody there.’ Kathy urged. ‘Let’s go up to the roof.’

The stairs from each emergency door led upward to a landing, then turned before leading further up to the next floor. Very small fixed plate-glass windows were positioned high on the exterior wall to allow light into the stairwell, way too small for a man to crawl through, if they could get up that high. They arrived on the landing to the roof top exit door and Brad was horrified to see a large padlock bolted firmly in place.

He pulled at the padlock. ‘What the hell! The doors locked! How the bloody hell did they think people are supposed to escape!’

‘You’re s’posed to go down not up!’

He turned to peer at Kathy. ‘What if there’s a fire and you can’t go down?’

‘The doors are fire proof! I um, have the key to the lock in my desk drawer.’

‘Fat lot of good that will do us now. Shit Kathy. We’re trapped in here!’

‘We’ll be okay. We’ll just have to wait it out until the water goes down. I’m going down to see how far the water has risen.’

Brad followed Kathy down the stairs. They reached the third floor before they saw the black menacing water filling the entire stair well below them. Kathy backed up the stairs watching it creeping slowly, silently toward her.  ‘It’s reached the top of the second floor! How far up do you think it’ll come?’

‘I don’t know, not much further I hope.’

They moved back up to the fifth floor where they sat on the stairs. ‘I’m scared. What’re we going to do Brad?’

‘There’s nothing to do but wait. We can’t go anywhere! I never thought I’d ever get the spend the night with you.’ Brad said trying to lighten the situation.

Kathy patted his arm. ‘Don’t get your hopes up! How’s your arm, is it sore?’

Brad looked at the cuts on his arm. ‘No, it’s fine. Let’s just try to figure out how we’re going to get someone’s attention. Pity about the phone.’

Darkness descended rapidly. Brad flicked the light-switch on the wall and was not surprised to find no power. ‘Hmmph..looks like an early night, and it’s getting cold. Wonder why?’

They could hear the muffled sounds of Vetos outside and they shivered with apprehension. They were wearing light clothing as it was summer in Washington, but the temperature was dropping and the cold was beginning to bite into them, and without food or water Brad realised they were in for a long and uncomfortable night. How long could they remain there without those things? The evening temperature at this time of year usually fell to around sixty degrees, but for reasons he could not explain, he was sure it less than thirty degrees.

Brad looked at his watch and was just able to see the iridescent dial in the fading light. 5.05pm. They faced fourteen hours of darkness!

Brad sensed a change in the sounds from below. Leaving Kathy on the stairs, he fumbled his way down in the dark until he reached the water level. The water had risen to the top of the fourth floor!  For a moment his heart seemed to stop, then it began to thump in his chest. This was impossible! Four floors! That must mean the entire city was flooded with over fifty feet of water! He bumbled his way back up to Kathy and told her the bad news.

Kathy’s soft cries gave way to an anguished sobbing. ‘If only I’d listed to you Brad. We wouldn’t be in this mess!

It’s all right. It’s not your fault. We’ll be okay.’

Kathy was amazed and thankful for Brad’s strength. She thanked God he did stay, or she would have been on her own.

They huddled together in a corner. The delicious smell of her perfume stirred Brad’s senses as he held her in his arms, and his fantasy about having her all to himself had come true, but not exactly how he had planned it.

Thin shards of light penetrated Brad’s eyes. It had been a long miserable night. Kathy stirred as he extracted himself from her grasp. The muscles in his body ached from lying on the hard landing floor. He fingered the stubble on his chin and ran his fingers through his long fair hair. His mouth was dry and his teeth felt furry, he wished he had a toothbrush.

‘What time is it?’ She mumbled.

‘Six forty-five.’

‘It’s so cold. I must look a mess.’ Kathy said patting her own hair. ‘God, what I wouldn’t give for a coffee!’

Brad’s mind was racing. He had to figure a way to attract attention or they could die in here.  Who knows how long the flood would remain? He looked at the high windows with anguish. Even if he lifted Kathy onto his shoulders, they were out of reach.  Besides, they could signal until they were blue in the face, nobody would see them unless they could break the window and wave.  Maybe his father would come looking for him, if he were able. It could be days before anyone could even get near the building, and they would not be able to get in until the water level fell. He trembled at the prospect of spending more nights like the previous, and the hopelessness of their situation began to overwhelm him. He hung his head and closed his eyes. The child inside him began to sob but the man he was held back the emotion, for now.

Chapter Forty-four

Mt Rockwell

General Worth was seated in the operations room inside Mt Rockwell surveying the disastrous scene over the capitol. The Washington obelisk speared out of the new sea, it’s slender tapering sides resembling a knife thrust from the depths, a lonely sentinel over a sunken city. He couldn’t quite come to grips with the devastation revealed by the long range cameras. Nothing was left, no building, no trees, nothing but the Monument. As the dam and barricades collapsed the sea rushed in creating it’s own tsunami that wiped out everything in it’s path. The warnings had come but most people believed they could escape, and waited until it was too late.

The President, his family and staff, and most of the Government leaders and their families had fled to Mt Rockwell at the first warning. Large contingencies of army, marine, air force personnel and police made up the other survivors inside Rockwell. Anyone out of uniform or unable to supply Government identity cards were denied access to the new city. Riots outside the entry points had been dispelled by armed service men, and many civilians were wounded or killed in the process.

President Walker sat pensively in the oval office of his luxury quarters where no expense had been spared in duplicating the original room of the White House. He knew his shortcomings, the least of which was his youthful appearance, even though he was nearing his fiftieth birthday, but now the frown lines on his thin face had deepened into chasms, kissing goodbye that last flush of youth forever, turning him into a washed-out shell. Suddenly the enormous responsibility of his office seemed too much to bear. He looked at the expensive leather armchairs and antique furniture and almost laughed out loud. All the wealth, power and prestige he had so eagerly sought now faded into meaninglessness. He had run like a fox to ground when the alarms were given, and he felt like a coward when reports of the deaths and destruction began filtering through the system. His duties had almost been reduced to zero, when everything had stopped and the army took over.

He shook his head. He was still the ‘Chief’ and there were things to be done. The thought of going back into the operations room sent shivers up his thin spine, as scenes of the starkly terrifying sea lapping at their city, flickered through his fuddled brain like reruns of an old silent movie. It didn’t seem real. He picked up a gilded framed photo of his wife and two sons that had been taken on the last holiday at Martha’s Vineyard three years ago.

Thats when the abuse took over, the jealousy and the beatings. It was just after he had given the order to execute three terrorists they had been holding on suspicion, without trial, an order that could only be given by the World Government. It was impetuous and ill advised and could have cost him his presidency if made public knowledge. Instead they staged a riot in which the three terrorists, who were reportedly the ring leaders were killed during the efforts to quell the rioters. A few days later amid the uproar from the press and questions by the World Government he had returned home to drown his worries with alcohol, which usually loosened him up, and after a few too many he confessed his part in the fiasco to his wife.

His marriage to Cassandra had been one long battle of wits, both being headstrong they clashed on about every decision that involved their private lives. Cassandra saw this episode as one that could give her the upper hand to force her husband to agree to her every wish, and she foolishly threatened to expose him. He reacted in a way that shocked them both, he retaliated by lashing out with his fists to show her she could not intimidate or control him. From then on they both lived in fear of each other’s wrath, and Cassandra knew he would kill her rather than face the retribution of the World Government.

How would he control this beautiful but headstrong woman now that the privacy of the White House had gone? He raised his long lean body awkwardly from the chair and made his way slowly to the door, and was surprised to find the outer office unmanned by the usual security force. He squared his shoulders and marched over to a speaker phone on the wall and summonsed his driver to take him to the operations room.

He waited while the driver secured the bullet-proof canopy over the small electric car. The other two Secret Service agents climbed into the back seat. It was the only car in the complex with a cover, and afforded the president security should he wish to tour the complex. His wary eyes peered around the gloomy cave and he wondered why his residence was the only one without a view. Not that the scenery was worth looking at, but at least the other blocks had Navilon walls, giving them a less than prison feeling. Outside his private block the sign simply read, White House, and it was the only block in the complex to carry a name. Visually it’s exterior was different to any of the blocks, it was not high, just two floors, but long and narrow. It had been set back into a cave in the gouged-out earth, allowing for an entranceway beneath it that gave one the feeling of entering the dark mouth of a large shark. Jagged outcrops of sharp rock protruded from the ceiling and the walls glistened with crystals in the pale artificial light.

The driver turned the small car and drove out of the cave into the main tunnel and Walker drew in his chest as he looked at the engineering marvel around him. The
tunnel’s walls were smooth, r
esembling a large railway tube, and  at least fifty feet high to allow each resident block to be four floors high and at least as wide. Fluorescent light tubes positioned all the way along the centre of the roof either side of the silver foil air conditioning tube, struggled to provide much more than a dim bluish glow. Resident blocks positioned along the way cantered back into the earth, held in position by large steel beams rammed into the surrounding tunnel walls. Each time Walker ventured out into this unearthly place he felt vulnerable, threatened by some unseen malevolent hand, so much so that he had no intention of touring the complex at any time. He hurried the driver along and was relieved when they arrived at the administration centre.