Escaping the Giant Wave (6 page)

We reached the bottom of the stairs. I put my hand on the doorknob but didn't turn it.

“The main floor is on fire, isn't it?” BeeBee said.

“I think so.”

In my mind, I pictured the hotel lobby. “As soon as I open this door,” I said, “run straight ahead. Just to the right of the front desk, there's a door that goes outside. It's closer to the stairway than the main entrance is. I went that way this morning when I came back to the room for my camera.”

I took a deep breath. “Ready?” I asked.

“Ready.”

I pulled the door open, felt a blast of hot air, and saw why Daren had called for help. The entire lobby was ablaze. The area where the front desk had been was an enormous bonfire with fingers of flame reaching toward the ceiling.

The carpet looked as if someone had set dozens of tiny fires in a random pattern across the floor. Sparks flew up, then drifted down again, like flocks of fireflies.

The plate glass window overlooking the Pacific Ocean had shattered, and the sea breeze blew in, fanning the flames.

“Run!” I yelled. I grabbed BeeBee's hand and took off, lifting my feet as high as I could, trying to avoid the burning patches of carpet. I felt as if I were in a war zone, dodging land mines. I expected the floor beneath us to ignite into solid flames at any second.

At least I could see. After the dark stairway, the fire in the lobby was so bright that I had to shut my eyes partway, but I saw the outside door that I remembered, and I led BeeBee toward it.

I grabbed the brass door handle, then jerked my hand back. The smell of blistered, charred skin joined the smell of smoke as the pain shot up my arm. I ripped the wet towel from my face and used it to open the door.

I pushed BeeBee through first, then stumbled after her.

I heard sirens now, rising and falling like a pack of howling wolves. Fire trucks must be on the way.

We ran away from the burning building. When we were far enough to feel safe, we stopped and looked around. I expected to see other hotel guests or employees who had escaped, but I saw no one. BeeBee and I might have been the only people in the world.

I wondered where Daren was. Had he made it out, or was he still trapped in the burning lobby? If he had headed for the main lobby doors rather than the small side door that we had used, he may not have reached it. I wished he had stayed with us instead of pushing ahead by himself. Well, I wasn't going to go back to look for him when I didn't know if he was inside.

My hand throbbed where I had burned it on the door handle. I pressed the wet towel against the burn.

BeeBee began to cry.

“We're safe now,” I told her.

“I know,” she said, her voice trembling, “but I left Bill upstairs in the room.”

“Maybe he'll be okay. Hear the sirens? The fire trucks should be here any second.”

“Do you think Daren got out?”

“I don't know. I hope so.”

“You saved his life,” BeeBee said, “and he didn't even wait for us.”

“Shh. Are those sirens still getting louder?”

“Yes. No. They were coming closer, but now they've stopped.”

We heard people shouting.

“I see our room,” BeeBee said, pointing up. “Top floor, right over the lobby.”

I looked. Yellow flames shot out of every window on the third floor. As we looked up at our room, the roof collapsed with a loud rumble like a dozen dump trucks all unloading at the same time. For a second I thought it was another earthquake; then I saw that the Totem Pole Inn was caving in on itself. The fire roared skyward as the flames consumed the roof beams.

I shuddered, thinking what would have happened if we had stayed in our room or on the second floor.

“Bill is burning up,” BeeBee said.

“I'm sorry,” I said, and I meant it. BeeBee had carried Bill Bear around with her for so long that he really seemed like one of the family. I let her cry for a few seconds. Then I said, “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“We'll walk around to the back of the hotel,” I said, “to the road. Then we're going to go up the hill.”

BeeBee didn't argue. She slipped her hand in mine and together we skirted the remains of the burning Totem Pole Inn.

The odd smell I'd noticed inside was stronger now, making my head ache.

“I smell gas,” BeeBee said.

When we reached the road behind the hotel, the voices were louder. We saw more flames across the street.

“Look!” I said. “The new hotel's on fire too.”

“There are the fire engines,” BeeBee said. “That's why the sirens stopped; the firefighters came to the Frontier Lodge.”

From where we stood, the road ran downhill to the Frontier Lodge. The dark smoke from the two fires blew inland, giving us a good view of the burning lodge.

“I hope the owners had insurance,” BeeBee said.

Although the sun hadn't set yet, the sky had an orange glow. I peered nervously at the waves washing onto the beach below us. They were the same size as always.

I looked toward the horizon, trying to see the yacht that Mom and Dad were on, but it was no longer visible. Either it had gone beyond my view, or it had already come home.

I hoped the
Elegant Empress
had returned early, and that Mom and Dad were on their way back to the Totem Pole Inn. I liked baby-sitting when nothing went wrong. Ordering pizza and tipping the delivery man had been fun—but being in charge during an earthquake and a fire wasn't fun at all. It was terrifying.

“There you are!” Daren came up behind us. His clothes looked singed, and he was missing one shoe.

I never thought I'd be glad to see Daren Hazelton, but it was a relief to know he had made it out of the hotel. Even so, I tensed, expecting him to slug me.

For once he kept his hands to himself.

“Are you hurt?” I asked. “Did you get burned?”

“One sneaker caught fire, and I had to kick it off, and after I got outside I coughed up a lot of black gook, but I'm okay. What about you?”

“I burned my hand on the door handle when we left the lobby.”

“I stepped out through the broken window.” He said it as if he had been far more clever than I had been. “What are you standing here for?”

“We're watching the fire,” BeeBee said.

“We aren't staying here,” I said. “We're going up the road, to the top of the hill.”

“Are you crazy?” Daren said. “Look at all the trees on that hill. I hiked up there this morning and it's nothing but woods. With both hotels on fire, those woods will probably catch fire too. There'll be a huge forest fire, and if you go that way, you'll be trapped in it.”

“Where are you going to go?” BeeBee asked.

“After I watch the fire, I'll go down to the ocean. Water won't burn, so the beach is the safest place to be.”

“What if there's a tsunami?” I said.

“A what?”

“A tidal wave. Sometimes earthquakes trigger tsunamis, and a sign on the beach said it could happen here. When there's an earthquake, everyone is supposed to go uphill as soon as the earthquake ends. Get as far away from the water as possible.”

“I don't plan to be burned alive in a forest fire and I'm not scared of getting washed away by a wave,” Daren said.

“Suit yourself,” I said. “BeeBee and I are climbing the hill.”

We left Daren and followed the road up the hill.

Daren called after us. “If you have a brain in that thick skull of yours, Davidson, you'll go down to the water with me instead of running away from nothing like a scared rabbit.”

If no tsunami comes,
I thought,
I'll never hear the end of this. Daren will tell every kid at Edison School that I ran away while he was brave.

“What if he's right?” BeeBee asked. “What if we go in the woods and then they catch fire?”

I glanced over my shoulder. Daren still stood in the road near the Frontier Lodge watching the fire.

“The firefighters are already battling the blaze,” I said. “I don't think it will get out of control.”

“They're only fighting one fire,” BeeBee said. “What about the Totem Pole Inn?”

“Maybe they'll let it burn,” I said, “since it was going to get torn down soon, anyway. Officially, the inn is closed. The firefighters may not know anyone was staying there. They won't let the fire spread to the trees, though.”

We continued up the road. I wasn't sure that this was the right choice. The sign had said a tsunami could follow an earthquake within a few minutes. It had been at least fifteen or twenty minutes since the earthquake. Did that mean there was no danger of a tsunami? If so, we might be safer at the beach or near the hotel, where other people were.

Daren's theory about the fire spreading made sense, and as far as I knew no tsunami warning had been issued. Of course, if there
was
a warning in effect, I wouldn't know it.

My mind went in circles like Alexander the Greatest when he chases his tail. One second I thought we should hurry up the hill; the next second I wondered if we should return to the hotel area.

The thing that kept me going uphill was my memory of Dad's voice saying, “You got that?” after he had read the sign to us. Mom and Dad trusted me to take care of BeeBee and myself. By doing what the sign said to do, I hoped I was keeping us safe.

BeeBee trudged at my heels. “I'm tired,” she said, “and hungry. I want my pizza and my milkshake.”

“I don't think room service delivers out here,” I said.

BeeBee didn't laugh. “I want Bill.” Her voice quavered as if she were going to start crying again.

I felt like crying myself. Besides losing Bill, we had lost all of our clothes and our luggage and our plane tickets home. BeeBee hadn't thought of any of those things yet, and I didn't intend to tell her. I could imagine the moaning I'd hear once she realized her new sun hat was gone and the bucket of shells and her favorite pajamas that had dollar signs all over them.

Now that we were away from the burning Totem Pole Inn, the road was more narrow. Ruts and potholes made it hard to walk without looking down all the time. The farther we got from the ocean, the more the smoke hung in the air. My eyes smarted. I kept blinking, but it didn't help much.

“Why isn't anyone else going this way?” BeeBee asked.

I had wondered that myself and didn't know the answer.

“Maybe there are wild animals around here,” BeeBee said.

“Wild animals fear fire,” I said. “They'd run away even faster than we can.”

That seemed to satisfy her.

We had walked another five minutes, when a concrete barrier blocked our way. A small sign beside it said: “No vehicles beyond this point.”

We walked around the barrier and found that the pavement had ended. We were now on a dirt path that headed up at a much steeper incline than before.

My hand throbbed where I had burned it on the door handle, and my throat hurt from all the smoke.

I stopped walking long enough to wipe my face on the bottom of my shirt.

“Do you hear that?” BeeBee said.

I listened. Somewhere in the distance I heard, “Moo. Moo. Moo.”

“It's cows!” BeeBee said.

“Is that the kind of wild animal you were worried about?”

“I meant cougars or grizzly bears. I hear a whole herd of cows.”

I knew that animals sometimes sense a natural disaster ahead of time. I'd read about dogs and cats back home in Kansas who pace nervously around before a tornado strikes. One woman in our town had a parrot who, she claimed, knew a tornado was headed in its direction long before the weather service issued any warning. Were the cows aware that another earthquake was coming? Or a tidal wave?

We stood still for a moment, straining to hear better. The mooing repeated, over and over and over, sounding exactly the same each time.

“I don't think those are live cows,” I said.

BeeBee giggled. “Dead cows don't moo.”

“I think it's a recording.”

She listened again. “You're right. Why would anyone play a tape of cows mooing?”

We walked on.

“The farmers make a tape of their cows mooing,” I said, “and then if one of the cows doesn't come home at night with the others, the farmer plays the tape over a loudspeaker, and the stray cow hears it and knows where to go.”

“Is that true,” BeeBee asked, “or are you making it up?”

“Making it up,” I admitted, “but it's logical. I can't think of any other reason why someone would broadcast a bunch of cows.”

“That mooing noise is coming from the direction of town,” BeeBee said. “There weren't any cows in town.”

While we pondered the puzzle, we heard voices on the road behind us. Looking back, we saw a man and a woman go around the concrete barrier and hurry toward us. The woman had a small tan terrier on a leash.

“Hello!” the man called when they were a bit closer. The little dog wagged her tail and tugged toward us.

“Hello,” I said.

“Keep going up the hill,” the woman said. “There's been a tsunami warning! It's supposed to hit Fisher Beach at five-thirty.”

“We aren't supposed to go anywhere with strangers,” BeeBee whispered to me.

“This is an emergency,” I whispered back, “and we aren't going with them; we were climbing the hill anyway.”

“Hurry!” the man said as they caught up to us.

“They look like Grandma and Grandpa,” BeeBee whispered.

I nodded, and we fell into step behind the gray-haired couple and their little dog. I felt less anxious now that we were near adults, strangers or not.

The dog kept turning around, wanting to sniff us. “Come along, Pansy,” the woman said. “You can make friends after we're out of danger.”

“How did you know about the tsunami?” I asked. “Was there a warning on the radio?”