Yellowstone

Chapter Eight

Friday Harbour, San Juan Islands, Washington, USA

July 2017

Jerry Lawrence

"BELLA! ZACH!"

A sharp screech cuts through the air, and I sift through the cloud of thoughts in my mind before I am able to put a name to the voice.

Rebecca.

I see her tear through the rubble toward us and the three of us are met with a barrage of hugs and kisses. Everything seems far off and distant to me, so it takes me several moments to take in the large gash on her head, before she asks the question that really brings me back down to earth.

"Where's Scott?"

I thrust Bella and Zach into her arms and throw off my jacket before scanning and searching the rubble for any sign of Scott as Rebecca attempts to calm the sobbing children, with tears streaming down her own face. As I dig through the heavy debris, I find body after small body and keep a mental note of the body count, though the scent of the ash and dust heavily clouds my thoughts and I am currently focused only on the task at hand, my body moving mechanically and automatically, saving all emotional reactions for later.

Just when I am about to give up hope, I hear a faint wheezing and spluttering in the corner of the room, and I find Scott lying with his foot buried beneath a large chunk of concrete.

"Scott!" I cry out, "Scott, son, are you okay!? We'll get you out in a jiffy, don't you worry. Rebecca and the kids are fine. You'll be fine, we'll be fine."

I see him nod weakly. "It's just my foot, dad. If I could just get it- AAH" he wails out as he attempts to drag his foot out from the concrete, his face creasing up, and I instantly grab hold of his leg, forcing him to stay put.

"Ben! Get over here and help me out!" I yell at one of the surviving parents who are now huddled in a corner with their children. He comes sprinting over and together we haul the slab away from Scott's foot, causing him to wince out in pain all the more, and I am almost certain that he is holding back some of the excruciating agony he must be in.

"How are you holding up? How's your foot?" I immediately begin examining the damage and see that thankfully it doesn't appear to be too broken. I begin taking out one of my medical kits and get to work on bandaging and taping it up. He gives me a wry smile as I finish taking care of it. "I'll be fine", he whispers. "Just a scratch."

I help him get onto his feet and realise that the crowd of people has thinned out.

"We're taking people to the middle school. From what I have heard, only one roof on the west side of the building has collapsed. It should be safer than staying here." Rebecca tells us, her face drip white as she looks at Scott and his foot. The two children are clung on tight to her, afraid of letting go.

"Thank you. You take the children and I'll help Scott get over there. Make sure you stay in the school. Don't come back out for us." I tell her, my arm wrapped around Scott for his support.

She nods solemnly, and begins guiding the survivors out of the building and toward one of the adjacent buildings, one that I recognise as the middle school. In reality it isn't actually that far away, but that's when you don't have a broken foot. After everyone else has cleared out, I make sure Scott's arm is secured over my shoulders, and I hoist him up, taking his full weight on my shoulders. As I do so, I begin to realise how badly the ash has been effecting me myself, as it is already difficult for somebody of my age to carry this kind of weight on my shoulders, yet alone with a pair of lungs full of volcanic ash.

Bit by bit we trudge out of the building, with barely any sunlight to speak of, the world as we knew it on this tiny island launched into a bleak darkness and most likely lost forever in all but our memories.

As the ash continues to fall, I am reminded of the snowy winters and Christmases that were celebrated here, the Christmas eve services in the church, the big family dinners- followed by a mental album of birthdays, first kisses, first smiles, first words, the first time I took my late wife Vera on her favourite ferry across that strikingly blue, radiant ocean that landmarks our picturesque little island home. So many firsts and so many memories now buried beneath the ash and laid to rest forever with the dead, and as memories of a place long gone with the living. I feel a lump rising in my throat as tears prick my eyes, and I begin to wonder whether I may soon be joining Vera in the afterlife, where we could relive those memories all over again, if there is such a place, but I quickly shove those thoughts to the back of my mind as a rough splutter from Scott brings my attention back to the task at hand.

Halfway there. I can see the entrance of the middle school now. Scott's wheezing and spluttering is becoming increasing worse, however, and I begin to panic albeit filled with determination to get him to safety. I'm no expert on volcanic ash, but I have a strong suspicion that by now, Scott has already inhaled an insanely dangerous amount of the stuff. I'm also aware of my own growing pain in my chest, and the heavy feeling of my own body, but I push both that and my emotional turmoil aside as my only focus is getting my precious son out of this alive and well.

One step. Two steps. Three steps more. We're almost there. We're almost-

I hear a large thud and before I know it half of my body is being pulled down to the floor, causing me to recoil in shock before I notice that Scott has collapsed onto his knees in the doorway to the middle school, and I shout out desperately for help as I attempt to lift him back to his feet. However, nobody seems to hear us as my cry goes unanswered.

I quickly find that it's impossible to lift him back up, as his body has lost all strength, and he remains doubled over, coughing and spluttering out blood mixed in with various lumps that seem almost similar in texture to meat. I feel the remainder of the lunch from last night, the last thing that I had eaten before the eruption, rise up my throat, but I swallow hard, forcing it down as I refuse to lose even our final supper and show any kind of weakness to my boy when he is in this state.

Without thinking, my mind blank as to what to do, I come to my knees next to Scott, and wrap my arms around him, bringing him slowly and softly to my chest, and I rest my chin on top of his head as I rock him gently side to side, with no other option than to tenderly hum the lullaby that my wife and I used to sing to him as a kid under my breath. We stay like this for some time, and I eventually feel him relax and stop spluttering, and for a moment I think that maybe my lullaby worked to calm him down. I stroke his cheek, and look down as I notice that my own body is soaked with his blood, and I hadn't even noticed the wet tears now streaking my face.

"Scott? Son? Can you get up?" I pat his ginger hair and carefully shake his shoulder, before realising that his body is limp.

"Scott!? Oh my god, it'll be okay, I'll get help, it'll all be fine!"

I completely ignore the screaming of my muscles as I force myself up and race down the corridor, searching any empty rooms for Rebecca and the rest, also refusing to acknowledge the breaking of my heart in my chest as I deny the possibility that my son has already taken his last breath.

After what feels like a millennia, I finally find the group of survivors huddled in one of the smaller offices, and Rebecca, a beacon of hope in her eyes, rushes toward me and begins exclaiming something about army officials arriving with gas masks soon, but I cut her off as I try to spit out what happened to Scott amongst my choking and sudden rise of vomiting.

She rapidly switches from hope to panic and despair as tries to help me, but I can feel my body already slowly slumping to the ground. I didn't even get to explain what had happened to Scott. Rebecca is instantly by my side, and I hear her order somebody to go and look for Scott. Good. At least he can maybe have a chance. The last thing I would want to do is fail my son and my family in my final hours.

Oddly enough, the blocked concrete sensation in my lungs no longer bothers me, and I feel oddly at peace as I peer up at Rebecca, then at Bella and Zach, who are staring at me wide-eyed. I manage a small smile directed their way, but my surroundings are now becoming hazy and distant. As my thoughts drift away, I feel as though I will soon be back in Vera's embrace that I have so dearly missed, and in my final moments of consciousness, I wonder whether that brilliant, wide ocean will be the same shade of blue that we always loved when we meet again.

THE END