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Authors: Boyd Morrison

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BOOK: The Tsunami Countdown
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“Listen, Frank, you need to take over now.”

“Say that again, Kai? I didn’t get that.”

Kai raised his voice as loud as he could. “I said you’re going to have to—”

Brad turned his head left to look for cross traffic at an intersection. He didn’t see the Volkswagen Beetle with the enormous
surfboard tied to the roof turn in front of them.

Kai reached up with both hands and pushed Brad’s head down just as they passed under the surfboard, which barely missed decapitating
both of them. The board grazed his hand, knocking the cell phone into the air. It clattered as it bounced once and then smashed
into the curb, shattering into pieces.

“Dammit!” Kai yelled as he flexed his stinging hand.

“That was close!” Brad shouted over his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I dropped my phone!”

“I’ve got one. Do you want me to stop so you can use it?” He started to slow down.

Brad’s telephone was virtually useless to Kai, because he didn’t know anyone’s number from memory—not the warning center in
Palmer, not Hawaii State Civil Defense, not even Reggie’s. It was all in his cell phone address book, which was now destroyed.

The only alternative was to turn back and find the TV van again to tell Reggie that he hadn’t been able to complete the transition.
It might be an hour before Reggie was able to get to Wheeler and establish contact with everyone—critical time when additional
information from the DART buoy would not be getting to HSCD or other Pacific island nations.

But if they turned around now, it would add at least ten minutes to their ride to Waikiki. They’d never get there in time.

Kai felt Brad downshift, and the bike slowed.

“No!” Kai yelled. “We don’t have time! Keep going!”

Brad revved the engine, and soon they were up to seventy.

In another minute they had reached the entrance ramp
for the H1. It was clogged with cars and buses. But there was enough room for a motorcycle to get through on the shoulder,
and in no time they were cruising along at eighty.

TWENTY-EIGHT

10:59 a.m.
23 Minutes to Wave Arrival Time

A
s they rounded Diamond Head, Lani’s attention was drawn to a big commotion along Kalakaua Avenue, which was even more jammed
than usual. From their position a mile out in Waikiki Bay near Kuhio Beach, she could see people running in both directions.
Few were left on the beach. “Mia,” she said, pointing, “what’s going on over there?”

The two boys also followed her finger.

“I don’t know,” Mia said tersely. Her face had turned ashen.

“Are you okay?”

Mia nodded, but Lani recognized seasickness when she saw it.

“Is there a parade today?” Jake asked.

“Not that I know of.”

Tom shook his head in puzzlement as well.

“Well, something’s going on.”

Across Waikiki Bay at the Ala Wai marina, a huge number of boats streamed from the harbor at a pace that seemed frantic. In
fact, it looked as if two of the boats had collided, although they were so far away, it was hard to tell for sure.

Then there was the large number of aircraft. First, the low-flying plane that had passed over them. Then a news helicopter
that seemed to be training its camera on them. That one Lani had waved to. Now it seemed like another small plane was headed
in their direction. Within another few seconds she thought she heard a voice coming from the plane. It turned and began to
circle them, and the voice became clearer. There was one word that was unmistakable:

“…
a tsunami warning has been issued for Hawaii. You must head for shore immediately and get to high ground. I repeat, a tsunami
warning has been issued for Hawaii. This is not a drill. You must get to land immediately. The wave will reach Honolulu in
twenty-three minutes. If you understand this warning, raise both your arms and wave
.”

All four of them looked at each other and then started waving their arms frantically while still holding their paddles. The
plane waggled its wings and banked toward a group of surfers about five hundred yards away.

“Why didn’t we hear the sirens?” Jake said.

“We’re too far from the beach,” Lani said. “The wind is blowing in that direction.”

“It doesn’t matter why!” Mia screamed. “Let’s just go!”

“Come on!” yelled Tom. “This way!”

Lani and the boys quickly turned their kayaks to the closest beach and began paddling furiously. Mia, who was not as skilled
with the kayaks, took longer to turn.

Mia was barely paddling at half the speed of the rest of them. At that rate, they would be in danger of not making it.

“Faster!” said Jake. “We don’t have much time!”

“My arms are too tired!” Mia yelled, distraught. “I can’t go faster!”

Tom pointed at Jake. “Kayak back as fast as you can and find somebody to get a boat or something out here.”

“Like who?” Jake said. “Your parents are gone for the day.”

“My mom,” Lani said. “She works at the Grand Hawaiian. It’s that hotel right there.” She pointed at the distinctive double
towers with the walkway between. They looked tantalizingly close until she saw the cars parked at their base, no bigger than
toys.

“You go as fast as you can,” Tom said. “We’ll follow you.”

Jake began to paddle furiously in the direction of the beach.

Within three minutes, Jake was already a few hundred yards ahead of them. By this time, the stress, inexperience, and rocking
of the kayak was too much for Mia. She leaned to her left and threw up over the side of the kayak. Mia drastically changed
the center of gravity while she vomited, and before she finished heaving, the kayak tipped over, tumbling her into the water.

“Mia!” Lani yelled.

Mia bobbed in the water, buoyed by her life vest. She coughed out some salt water and retched again.

“I fell out!” she screamed. “I fell out!”

Tom paddled over to her and stabilized the kayak.

“We’ve got to get you back in the kayak,” he said. He turned around and shouted, “Jake! Jake!”

Jake, already far ahead, continued paddling, oblivious to Tom’s yells in the constantly changing breeze.

“Don’t call him back!” Lani said. “He’s got to keep going. If he hears you and turns back, he won’t be able to get help for
us.”

Lani could see Tom measuring the distance with his eyes. “You’re right,” he said reluctantly. He let Jake keep going.

Mia, who wasn’t a strong swimmer, dog-paddled over to her drifting kayak. When she got to it, she pulled on one of the nylon
cords, but her strength was so sapped that she couldn’t lift herself more than a foot out of the water. She
slumped back into the ocean, choking on more salt water in the process.

“I’ll never get back in,” she sobbed. “I’m not strong enough.”

“Yes, you are,” Lani said, seeing that she was going to lose Mia if she didn’t calm her down. “They make them so you can get
back in. Right, Tom?”

Tom eyed Lani and shrugged dubiously. Then he said, “We can try.”

Tom and Lani paddled over to Mia and twice tried to lift her onto her kayak, but their awkward position made it difficult.
Both times Mia fell back into the water before she was halfway on.

“This isn’t going to work,” Tom said.

“What am I going to do?” Mia cried.

“What about putting her on
your
kayak?” Lani said.

“This kayak’s pretty small. I’m afraid she’ll tip both of us over.”

“Please don’t leave me!” Mia cried.

“We’re not leaving you,” Lani said. “Tom is going to tow you.”

“Tow me?”

“Yes. He’s stronger than me.”

Tom nodded. “Good idea. Mia, hang on to this strap.”

He loosened one of the seat straps and threw it to Mia.
“Tie it to your life vest. I’ll pull you.” He turned to Lani.

“Are you okay? Can you paddle?”

Lani nodded. “I’ll keep up. Let’s go.”

They started paddling. Jake was far ahead. Lani looked at her watch. Only nineteen minutes left. She paddled harder.

TWENTY-NINE

11:04 a.m.
18 Minutes to Wave Arrival Time

A
fter leaving the clothing store where she had watched the first tsunami wave engulf the hikers on the Big Island, Teresa had
returned to the beach to check the note in her bag. To her dismay, the bag was still there, with no sign from the girls. Her
first thought had been to find another phone so that she could call someone for help. But without the phone book in her dead
cell phone, she didn’t know any numbers to call. When she finally convinced an obliging tourist to let her use his cell phone,
her calls to information went unanswered, as had her calls to the Grand Hawaiian. There was no way for her to contact anyone
she knew.

By this time, the evacuation had reached its peak. People walked and ran in all directions, some calm, others crying or screaming.
Many of them were families, the children struggling to keep up with their parents. Teresa
hadn’t taken the time to get an update on the tsunami, but whatever people were seeing on TV was spurring them to get out
fast. When she tried to stop passersby to show Mia’s photo, most people brushed her aside, immersed in their own problems.
Of the ones who did take the time to look at the picture carefully, none recognized Mia.

Numerous possibilities for where Mia and Lani had gone fluttered through Teresa’s mind. The most likely explanation was that
they were in one of the hotels or condos lining the beach, either oblivious to the mass panic below or dismissive of the danger.
Or they could have gotten a ride in someone’s car. Teresa didn’t think Mia would do something like that, but given her own
state of dread, she wasn’t ruling out anything.

If the girls were in a vehicle or a hotel room, she’d never find them in time. Her only hope was that the girls would become
aware of what was going on and come back to find her.

Teresa’s search led her back to the east end of Waikiki Beach, where she came to a stop at the corner of Ohua and Kalakaua.
While the midday sun blazed unimpeded by clouds, the ocean breeze kept the temperature to a comfortable eighty degrees. Nevertheless,
sweat glistened on Teresa’s arms and brow, more a result of her anxiety than the climate.

She scanned the two blocks between her and the end of
the developed part of Waikiki where the Kapi‘olani Park began.

“Mia!” she yelled. “Lani!”

A few heads turned, but none of them belonged to her daughter. She was about to turn and head back in the other direction
when a muffled sob caught her attention.

Tucked in an alcove was a little boy no older than six. He was hunkered down against the wall, tears streaming down his pale
face, the wind tousling his ash-blond hair. The people hurrying by were so engrossed in the evacuation that he had escaped
attention. If Teresa hadn’t stopped there, she most likely wouldn’t have seen him either.

She knelt down in front of the boy, forgetting about her own lost child for a moment.

“Hey there, kiddo. Are you lost?”

He nodded glumly between sobs.

“What’s your name?”

“David.”

“Hi, David, I’m Teresa.”

He looked at her dubiously, as if he had already told her too much.

“My mom said I shouldn’t talk to strangers.”

“That’s usually a good idea, David. Where is your mom?”

He paused. Teresa could see that he was unsure whether to trust her.

“David, I’m a doctor, and doctors help people, right? And all I want to do is help you find your mom.”

“You don’t look like a doctor.”

“What do doctors look like?”

“Like my doctor, Dr. Rayburn. He’s old, and he has a funny nose.”

Teresa smiled at that.

“I swear I’m a doctor. Here, let me show you.” She plucked her medical ID from her wallet. It showed her in her white lab
coat. Apparently, that was enough for David, and the information poured out.

“We’re from California and we heard about the tsunami, so we were running out of our hotel with some other people and I let
go of my mom’s hand by accident and I couldn’t see her or my dad, so I followed the other people. But she wasn’t there, so
I turned around to try and get back, but I got lost and now I don’t know where she is.”

The last statement set off another round of tears, and Teresa gave him a hug.

“We’ll find her, David. Do you know the name of your hotel?”

“Hana.”

“The Hana Hotel?”

“It’s pink.”

“Your hotel is pink?”

He nodded.

This being Teresa’s first trip to Honolulu, she had no idea where the Hana Hotel was. She looked each way along Kalakaua Avenue
but couldn’t see any pink buildings lining the beachfront road.

“Is your hotel right on the beach?” she asked, wanting to make sure she hadn’t missed it.

David shook his head. “We had to walk down a street to get to the beach.”

Since she was at Ohua Avenue, Teresa thought that was as good a street as any to try. She led David by the hand and hurried
along the sidewalk away from the beach, joining the other evacuees.

“Tell me if you see your hotel,” she said to David.

The boy trotted at Teresa’s side, occasionally tucking behind her to get out of the way of another fleeing tourist. She asked
a few people if they knew where the Hana Hotel was, but none of them did. She spotted a phone booth across the street and
angled toward it.

“I don’t see the hotel yet,” David said.

“I know. We’re going to try to get the address.”

Teresa tried not to think about what would happen if she couldn’t find David’s parents. She certainly couldn’t abandon the
little boy, but his plight was derailing her search for Mia.

A yellow pages hung from the bottom of the phone booth, and she flipped it open to the hotel section. She
scanned the
H
s until she came to the place where Hana should have been listed. It wasn’t there.

“David,” she said, “are you sure it’s called the Hana Hotel?”

The boy screwed up his face in concentration.

“I’m pretty sure.”

The hotel section of the yellow pages was huge, but she didn’t think David would have invented that name on his own. She quickly
scanned down the list until she got to the
W
s. There it was. The Waikiki Hana on Koa Avenue.

The front of the phone book had a map of the Waikiki area. Koa Avenue didn’t intersect with Ohua, so she would have missed
it heading in this direction. She took David back down to Kalakaua and jogged the two blocks to a road that would intersect
with Koa. In another minute she spotted the pink façade of the Waikiki Hana.

Stragglers still emerged from the hotel. She went into the hotel lobby, and even before she could ask David what his mother’s
name was, a woman screamed “David!” and swept the boy up in her arms, weeping with joy at holding her lost son. She turned
to Teresa and clasped her shoulder.

“Thank you for finding him,” the woman said. “I don’t know what happened. One second he was there, and the next he was gone.”

“You’re welcome. Now you need to get out of here.”

“But my husband—he went out to find David! I don’t know where he is!”

“I’m sorry. But—”

“How will I find him?”

Teresa saw the woman’s desperation and realized that her own search for her daughter was futile. There was no way she would
find Mia or Lani running around on the streets. She needed to go where they might go.

“How will I find my husband?” the anguished woman repeated.

“I’m sorry,” Teresa said. “I don’t know.”

She took one last look at the little boy and mother she had reunited. Then she sprinted out the front of the lobby and ran
toward the Grand Hawaiian.

BOOK: The Tsunami Countdown
2.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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