Endless Flames (Surviving Ashes, Book Four) (2 page)

Berke cleared a small area for him to rest while maintaining the needed cover, actually deliberating over whether or not he should try to take Maxie and Jacob up to the lodge in the dark. It was close to a half hour drive up the river road into the hills to the east, but that was in a vehicle. They’d had to leave his Ford F150 behind when they’d hit California and change out to a special vehicle dubbed a Mule that was currently hidden away inside the empty loading dock at the back of the building. He wondered if there was enough gasoline in them to make it and he had a feeling the gas station on the small town’s western edge had already been siphoned of every last drop of precious fuel.

No, it was better to wait until morning. The ash descending from the sky had become relatively heavier in the last few days, causing visibility to be very poor. It would be more beneficial to wait until daybreak and hope it became somewhat brighter outside for their approach. There were too many variable factors that could hinder their advances toward a heavily armed security post in reduced visibility, especially one that had been recently tested and causing the loss of loved ones. Berke wasn’t about to ask for reinforcements when the lodge was already a target from multiple directions and multiple enemies. He would get them there on his own and then figure out a way to minimize the damage he’d caused by running his mouth.

Berke rested the barrel of his weapon on a rather large stack of birdseed sacks he’d found for the perfect height to use as a rifle rest for his M4 variant. It was pitch black outside, but he should be able to monitor the front entrance from this position. Anyone trying to enter would hit the line of empty tin cans he’d strung across the most likely avenue of approach as a simple security measure. He’d then decide if he should shoot on sight as the team said there wouldn’t be any known friendlies in town tonight.

Five minutes passed and then another half an hour. Berke couldn’t stop thinking back to his conversation with Paige Olivier, picking apart her words over and over for any sign that he should have seen this coming. It had been close to an hour before that phone conversation that Maxie had handcuffed her wrist to his in order to force him to bring her to Washington State. Hell, he didn’t hold any lasting grudges with the way she’d infiltrated herself into his plans. He understood why she’d resorted to those measures, but they’d both crossed another line by sharing a brief, passionate kiss the other night. Berke had always prided himself on being ready for anything, but this woman…well, everything that had occurred the last three weeks certainly hadn’t been on his bucket list.

The despairing memories were like a tidal wave rolling over on top of his remorse…

Three weeks prior…

“B
erke, I really
don’t have time for this,” Paige said somewhat distractedly over the phone. Granted, her job with the United States Geological Survey Science Agency had to have been rather hectic with all of the tremor activity at Yellowstone National Park. The nation’s demands on the Department of the Interior and specifically the USGS had to be tenfold what they were yesterday or the day before. She could still give him a moment of her time for old time’s sake. “Can I call you back when I get a minute?”

“No,” Berke declared, not after trying to contact her for the last twelve hours with nothing to show for it but frustration. Until now. He’d tried numerous times today as well and this was the first time she’d answered her cell phone after countless messages asking her to call him back. “We might not still be what we were to one another, Paige, but you at least owe me the courtesy of telling me the truth about what’s been plastered all over the news reports. Is there anything I need to know about?”

Berke was referring to the massive supervolcano underneath Yellowstone National Park—the one that old Tank rambled on about endlessly. He would have thought the odds of the whole damned caldera erupting were like a million to one, but it turned out there was an actual one out of a hundred chance of it happening in any given year. Wait. Maybe it was less. One out of ten? He never had been much of a numbers guy.

The major tremors being detected and broadcasted on every major news channel were being downplayed as if the occurrences were nothing to worry about, but his old tank commander believed differently. If Ernie “Tank” Yates thought enough about the recent volcanic activity at the park to contact the team, then there was something more to it than the natural occurrence bullshit the USGS were trying to spin. It at least warranted Berke looking into it with what contacts he had available.

“Hold on,” Paige directed in a rather low tone, almost as if she didn’t want someone to overhear her conversation with him. That didn’t bode well and set Berke on edge as he waited impatiently. “Give me a second, Harley. I’ve got to take this call.”

Berke leaned back in his desk chair that had seen better days, cautiously wondering whom this Harley was and why it was so important Paige not be overheard. The black leather of the old worn seat was torn in quite a few places, but he didn’t mind since he was rarely inside his office. He honestly didn’t care about appearances.

He also hated the government red tape that came with owning and operating a gun range, so he spent the majority of his time out on the range and avoiding all the paperwork until the last minute. He’d rather be lecturing safety classes or giving a shooting lesson over being chained to his desk scratching his way through forms on usage data and lead testing results on test wells. He was also hoping that after this conversation was over, he could call up to Washington State and tell his friends that there was nothing to be concerned over. It seemed as if that hope was diminishing with each second she took to get back to him.

“Are you still there?” Paige asked, pulling Berke’s attention away from the stack of unpaid bills thrown somewhat haphazardly in the square wooden inbox on the corner of his desk. He found himself wishing he would be able to pay them instead of being told it wouldn’t matter. He pushed the Styrofoam food container to the side that had contained this morning’s breakfast from the diner a few streets over, having lost his appetite once he’d gotten ahold of Paige. “I only have a couple of minutes to spare.”

“Just tell me the truth flat out, Paige,” Berke urged, not understanding why she couldn’t disclose the actual facts about what was being plastered all over the news. They’d been intimate friends once, both of them agreeing to nothing serious while she’d been in town studying a possible connection between the small tremors that were occurring in the area and the recent fracking that had been done to release the area’s massive reserves of natural gas. Pumping that amount of water and a whole cocktail of chemicals under pressure beneath the ground tended to make Mother Nature a bit uppity. “Is there any credence to the worry some folks have voiced contrary to the news reports? Tank is concerned and I’d really like to ease his mind, if possible.”

There was a long pause on Paige’s end, where the silence dragged on a little too long. Berke cursed underneath his breath, standing up and knocking the chair back against the white wall that had more scuff marks on it than the floor of the shooting range. He ran a hand over his face and through his short hair in resignation when he finally accepted the truth, although that didn’t stop the automatic gesture of shaking his head in denial.

“Paige, is the Yellowstone supervolcano getting ready to blow for real?”

“I’m not allowed to discuss—”

“Bullshit, Paige,” Berke snapped, picking up his pen and tossing it at his wooden inbox in annoyance. “I’m not just some random guy from the public calling you for some kind of reassurance. You know me…we know each other. So just tell me the goddamned truth!”

“Fine,” Paige blurted out, the tone of her voice lower if that were even possible. “It’s bad, Berke. I mean, really bad. We’ve been in the process of moving our offices to a secure underground location for the last forty-eight hours. It’s only a matter of time before she erupts and the shit hits the fan.”

She…as if Yellowstone was a person making a statement. Berke tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling in disbelief. He had so many questions, but it appeared that she had little time for any answers. He needed to find out as much as he could before calling up to the old fishing lodge.

“Berke, the order not to tell anyone outside immediate family came down a couple of hours ago. We’re talking mass hysteria if this were to go public. There is no way we could evacuate three states in the time we have before the eruption. We estimate just over three hundred thousand people will be consumed by the initial blast. Even more won’t be able to escape the pyroclastic flow when the plume cloud collapses and buries the area hundreds of miles in every direction under a massive blanket of ash and fire.”

“Forty-eight hours could have saved thousands of lives and you know it,” Berke said with contempt, not meant only for Paige. She could have easily bucked the system and contacted the press herself. She sure as hell wasn’t the woman he’d thought he’d known a year ago. “You can still do the right thing. Get the word out.”

Another long pause filled the gap, but Berke could no longer just sit at his desk and twiddle his thumbs. He quickly walked over to his personal locker, fishing the keys out from his utility pants. He’d gotten used to wearing them in the Corps and still continued to do so when he was scheduled to give a class or serve as the duty Range Safety Officer (RSO) on the pistol range.

“Are you heading out to Washington?” Paige asked, before letting him know what the official orders would be should certain government officials change their mind about alerting the public. “You should head east out to the coast as fast as you can. The ash will take at least seventy-two hours to hit the East Coast, giving you plenty of time to catch a southbound freighter if you leave now.”

“And then what?” Berke asked, shoving his keys back in his pocket before tossing the lock on the floor. It wasn’t as if he was going to need it anymore. “Hole up in some shithole hotel and do nothing like a fucking coward while the population of the entire United States dies off a hundred thousand at a time? You know that’s not who I am. I’ll head up north to be with my unit and do what I can to help secure the people of the town nearby.”

“Is that bunker even secure? You said it was an old silver mine and that you were just placating your old tank commander. Has he made any kind of progress or built on to it since we last talked?” Paige inquired, having walked back into a room where there were people from the sound of it. “FEMA is in the process of setting up camps where people can go who make it to the East Coast who have nowhere to stay. There will be food, supplies, shelter, and security. They aren’t saying anything until they have at least eighty percent of the sites set up and able to accept the influx of the public.”

“I hope you change your mind about alerting the media,” Berke replied somberly, taking out the multiple sleeves that contained a rifle in each. Paige had mentioned security and she had no idea how important that was going to become, especially once people realized what was really going on at the park. An apocalypse of this nature brought out the worst in humanity. People would only be out for themselves and that was even before desperation took hold and death approached. “You can be the one who saves the lives of countless innocent citizens you’ve sworn to protect.”

Berke didn’t give Paige time to reply. Instead, he disconnected the call and immediately hit speed dial to call one of his old teammates…one of his brothers. Maverick Beckett picked up on the fourth ring.

“You took your sweet time getting back to me,” Mav replied with somewhat of an echo on the line. That meant he was in his Jeep Wrangler heading out of town back to his home in Chicago. “I spent the night up at the lodge but hit the road first thing this morning. Nothing major occurred overnight so Tank’s just going to have to wait a while longer for his apocalypse to happen.”

“Turn around,” Berke directed, also removing a large duffel bag from the locker that he kept for emergencies. Always having a ready-bag came from his time in the Corps and he was now forever grateful he’d maintained the lessons he’d learned early on.

“Say again your last?” Mav asked out of habit, evidently not registering what Berke was telling him. It also appeared as if his friend took the meaning of his directive all wrong. “Look, this situation is between me and Henley. She made up her mind about me long ago and nothing I say or do will change that. Hell, I don’t want her to change her mind anymore.”

“Mav, I don’t know what you’re talking about but it won’t matter in a few short hours.” Berke honestly didn’t want to know anything about Mav and Henley right now. Henley Varano helped Tank manage the fishing lodge, as well as the private cabins that surrounded the lodge and scenic property. She didn’t have a problem getting along with everyone in the old unit, with the possible exception of Mav. Those two had been dancing around each other for a while now, but it technically didn’t matter anymore. They’d be cooped up in a bunker and worrying about survival and who fancied who would be of little concern to anyone. Berke slammed the locker shut after he’d collected everything and set it by the door. “I called Paige like you wanted me to at the USGS. They aren’t telling the public what they need to know—per orders from the higher-ups.”