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The Geostorm Series (Book 6): Geostorm [The Pioneers] Page 4

“Got it,” said Chapman. “We’re ready.”

  Sarah took a deep breath. “I say boom—chukka—boom.”

  “I say boom—chukka—boom,” said the group in unison, prepared to repeat each lyric.

  “I say a boom—chukka-lucka—boom.”

  “I say a boom—chukka-lucka—boom.”

  “I say a boom—chukka-lucka—chukka-lucka—chukka boom.”

  “I say a boom—chukka-lucka—chukka-lucka—chukka boom.”

  “All right?”

  “All right!”

  “Now slow,” said Sarah, slowing the pace. “I say a boom—chukka-lucka—chukka-lucka—chukka boom.”

  The rest of the group repeated it slowly, matching her cadence. “I say a boom—chukka-lucka—chukka-lucka—chukka boom.”

  Sarah picked up the pace. “Now fast. I say a boom—chukka-lucka—chukka-lucka—chukka boom.”

  “I say a boom—chukka-lucka—chukka-lucka—chukka boom.”

  “Okay?”

  “Okay!”

  “One more time!”

  “Oh, yeah!”

  Sarah began again, using a singsong voice that elicited giggles all around. “I say boom—chukka—boom.”

  “I say boom—chukka—boom.”

  “I say a boom—chukka-lucka—boom.”

  “I say a boom—chukka-lucka—boom.”

  “I say a boom—chukka-lucka—chukka-lucka—chukka boom.”

  “I say a boom—chukka-lucka—chukka-lucka—chukka boom.”

  “All right?”

  “All right!”

  “Now slow. I say a boom—chukka-lucka—chukka-lucka—chukka boom.”

  “I say a boom—chukka-lucka—chukka-lucka—chukka boom.”

  “Now fast. I say a boom—chukka-lucka—chukka-lucka—chukka boom.”

  “I say a boom—chukka-lucka—chukka-lucka—chukka boom.”

  “Okay?”

  “Okay!”

  “We’re done!”

  Jesse was the lone voice of insanity. “No! Let’s do it again!”

  The groans of the adults were ignored as Sarah and the kids started the Boomchukka song one more time.

  Following their meal, during the family’s lighthearted moments of singing and storytelling, they were able to forget about the travails that had led them to this point. They were able to put in the back of their minds the losses of Squire and Riverfront Farms. They repressed the memories and fear of earlier that day as they raced for their lives to avoid being sucked into the earth by a quake. Tomorrow was going to be a new day and, as the inscription on the back of Levi’s compass read, they’d learned to accept that every adventure requires a first step.

  Chapter 5

  Raven Rock Mountain Complex

  Liberty Township, Pennsylvania

  There was a point in time when a second cold war was brewing between the United States and Russia. President Vladimir Putin was hell-bent on expanding Russia’s borders in an attempt to reconstitute the former Soviet Union. He’d instituted election reforms within the Moscow government that virtually assured him the ability to remain president for life. And throughout these geopolitical machinations, conflicts with the West arose, reminiscent of the decades-long Cold War of the twentieth century.

  During this period, Russian state TV leaked a map of potential United States military targets in the event the Kremlin chose to launch their nuclear missiles. One of the sites was the Raven Rock Mountain Complex near the Pennsylvania-Maryland state line.

  Certainly, the complex could’ve been on the former Soviet Union’s hit list, as it had originally been built during the onset of the Cold War during the Truman administration. Dubbed Site R by the military, it also took on the nickname Harry’s Hole, a moniker referring to the former president.

  Like its more well-known counterpart, the Cheyenne Mountain Complex outside Colorado Springs, Colorado, Raven Rock was built to withstand a nuclear attack by Russia or any of America’s adversaries.

  However, President Grant Houston and the nearly five thousand high-level government officials and their families faced an even greater threat than a Russian Tuo95 MS16 bomber dropping multiple nuclear warheads on top of it.

  Raven Rock was flooding.

  “This way, Mr. President!” shouted the leader of his Secret Service detail.

  The president ran through the vehicle entrance connecting Portal B, one of the west entrances, to Raven Rock. The east entrances, Portals C and D, had been breached by rising floodwaters. To say the flooding began as a ripple effect of the rapidly rising Atlantic Ocean would be an understatement.

  Scientists were baffled by the profound impact the fast pole shift had on the face of the planet. One likened it to setting a block of ice in the middle of Death Valley in July. Only, the ice, as it rapidly melted, didn’t evaporate into the atmosphere due to the heat. Rather, it melted and spread. Just like a roof leak, water finds a way to its lowest point until it accumulates and spreads. That was what was happening on the planet.

  The Arctic sea ice melted at an unfathomable rate. Glaciers broke off and made their way into the Atlantic Ocean, altering currents and having a profound impact on the weather. The geostorms might have destroyed power grids, but the weakened atmosphere allowed in cosmic rays that resulted in continuous heavy downpours across the Northern Hemisphere.

  As a result, sea levels rose and the nation’s lowlands flooded. The rising waters consumed America’s great coastal cities and then its heartland, leaving nothing but an archipelago of mountaintops surrounded by a deep expanse of water.

  As Chesapeake Bay and the Potomac River became one, Washington, DC, suffered the same fate as the mythical Atlantis. Clarke Lake, a tributary of the bay that stretched toward Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, widened until it overflowed its banks. The water searched for the fertile farmlands of southern Pennsylvania, joining with newly formed lakes and swollen creeks.

  The famed Gettysburg battlefield was consumed. The residents of small towns across the regions sought higher ground. And the waters found their way to one of the most secure sites in America’s government—Raven Rock.

  It was a threat that couldn’t be countered with missiles or bombers or cyber attacks. It was an Act of God, or Mother Nature’s wrath, or quite simply, geologic history repeating itself.

  “How can this happen? You’re supposed to keep us abreast of what’s happening!” yelled the president.

  The subject of his ire was Lieutenant Colonel Harrison Billings, the commander of the 1111th Signal Battalion, known throughout the military as the Signal Masters of the Rock. He was responsible for maintaining communications with the outside world and general information gathering during a crisis.

  For decades, the 1111th had war-gamed a vast number of military scenarios, including some natural disasters. They’d never imagined floodwaters rising to over a thousand feet above sea level. Nor had the engineers of Raven Rock who designed the complex in the 1940s or expanded it after the turn of the century.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. President, but the challenges created by the power outage caught us all off guard. While the military’s intra-communications apparatus was shielded from the barrage of solar activity, the rising waters have taken out our reporting stations on the ground.”

  “What about the satellites?” asked the president before adding, “They were feeding us information yesterday.”

  The heavyset colonel struggled to keep up with the quickly moving entourage. “Yes, sir. However, the transmission signals have become garbled due to solar interference. NASA and Cheyenne Mountain are doing everything they can to continually adjust our receivers and modify the orbits of the low-Earth satellites, but it’s like playing a game of whack-a-mole. As soon as calibrations are determined and implemented, conditions in the atmosphere change.”

  “This way, sir!” The Secret Service led him into the west power plant and up a noticeable incline. Ahead, several uniformed military personnel stood near a nondescript double-door entrance. The pres
ident continued his questioning as they hustled up the hill.

  “I was told the rain had stopped and the skies had cleared. Those same people told me the floodwaters would recede. Isn’t the water going down?”

  Billings paused before responding, “No, sir. It continues to rise.”

  The president abruptly stopped and met the colonel, who was out of breath. “What?”

  Billings took a deep breath. “Sir, the floodwaters are not abating despite the cessation of rainfall across North America. I’m told by NOAA that this may take some time.”

  “How long?”

  “Unknown, sir.”

  The president stared at the bearer of bad news for a long, uncomfortable moment before he was interrupted by his security detail.

  “Sir? This way, please.”

  They opened a solid steel, unmarked security door. The president was ushered into another darkened corridor, where the smell of food immediately entered his nostrils. The murmur of voices could be heard, growing louder as they moved up a slight incline in the sterile hallway to another set of metal entry doors.

  Two uniformed soldiers awaited their cue to open the doors as the president arrived. As they did, the president gasped when he saw what awaited him on the other side.

  Chapter 6

  Raven Rock Mountain Complex

  Liberty Township, Pennsylvania

  His gaze was returned with the blank stares of despondency. A thousand-plus high-ranking officials of the U.S. government and their families were huddled in the once-spacious mess hall at the end of E Building. Raven Rock’s administrative facilities, housing, and support functions were contained within a five-wing, waffle-weave complex. The highest point of the entire facility, located at the westernmost end of Raven Rock, was E Building.

  “What’s going on here?” the president asked his escorts.

  Colonel Billings spoke in a hushed tone. “Sir, the housing units on the lower levels, ordinarily considered the safest from nuclear attack, have begun to flood. We’ve systematically relocated the facility’s guests into the military quarters according to their rank and status within your administration. The other, lower-level personnel are sharing the mess hall and attached corridors with those assigned to Raven Rock on a permanent basis.”

  The president took a deep breath and shook his head as he moved slowly through the people crammed into the space. “They can’t live like this.”

  “Sir, at the moment, subject to the information you’re about to receive in your briefing, we have no other options.”

  “Why aren’t we going to the temporary PEOC?” asked the president. PEOC was an acronym for the Presidential Emergency Operations Center located in a bunker-like structure beneath the East Wing of the White House. At Raven Rock, it was buried deep in the mountain.

  “Sir, the floodwaters have filled underground reservoirs, causing seepage through the sedimentary limestone. This facility, like Cheyenne Mountain, was built utilizing the granite and limestone for structural walls. To put it simply, the water is finding its way to an opening. In this case, it’s Site R.”

  The president shook his head in disbelief as he walked past a mother and two weeping children. It was oppressively hot and humid in the mess hall due to the lack of sufficient airflow. The industrial air intakes and cooling towers were overworked in their efforts to provide fresh air to the facility.

  Two of the Secret Service personnel pushed past the president and the colonel to approach another set of steel doors. They cleared away several people who’d sat on the floor with their backs propped against the entryway. Billings also stepped in front of the president and used his security badge and retina scan to open the biometric locks.

  “Where are we going?” asked the president.

  “My office, sir. Future briefings will be conducted here.”

  After the entourage entered the colonel’s suite of offices, the doors were shut and the sounds of mumbling from the mess hall were blocked out. The president breathed a sigh of relief as he closed his eyes and reopened them, hoping to erase the despair he’d just witnessed. As he did so, a vision of his former lover and chief of staff, Angela O’Donnell, filled his mind. She was his rock. A force of stability upon which he could lean in difficult times. Now she was gone.

  She’d betrayed him, or actually, was it the other way around? They’d often lain in bed together, wrapped in each other’s naked bodies, dreaming of a simpler life outside of politics and the public eye. Certainly, he’d have to divorce his wife, but that happened all the time in private life. When he’d sent for his wife to be retrieved from California and brought to Raven Rock, O’Donnell saw their dreams of a life together evaporate. She acted upon the dream, leaving him behind without a proper goodbye.

  The evening before, his aide reported the findings of a National Security Agency investigation as to her whereabouts. They’d traced her driver’s route to Hyde Field and the chartered Learjet. From there, her travels were easily recreated to New Zealand and tiny White Island located off the coast of Auckland.

  As the findings of the investigation were relayed to him, President Houston inwardly cheered her on, regretting that he’d missed the opportunity to run away with his lover, but proud of her for taking the step on her own.

  Cheers turned to tears when the closing line in the tragic comedy was delivered. As had been reported in his continuous briefings, the planet was undergoing cataclysmic geological changes. Earthquakes, tsunamis, and volcanic eruptions were frequent occurrences. The same was true in the South Pacific as the Antarctic continent withered under the uncharacteristic heat and warming oceans.

  Two days prior, an unexpected phreatic eruption of the volcano on White Island released superheated steam and noxious volcanic gases into the air. The subsequent explosion of the volcanic plug, a crusty covering created when magma hardens within a vent of an active volcano, launched rock and ash into the air.

  The crater rim collapsed and rolled into the Bay of Plenty, consuming everything in its path, including the modest oceanfront villa occupied by his lover. All one hundred eleven souls on the island were killed.

  President Houston was shown to a conference room next door to the colonel’s office. Inside, the morose faces of Nola Taylor with NASA and Secretary of Homeland Security Marc Ducci greeted him. A handful of staffers from FEMA as well as a representative of the Joint Chiefs of Staff were present.

  “Good morning, Mr. President,” greeted Ducci in a somewhat chipper tone of voice. Ducci, who disliked O’Donnell, had been present when the president was briefed on her demise. President Houston couldn’t help but detect a smirk come across his longtime political associate’s face when he heard the fate she’d suffered.

  The president, still profoundly affected by the scene in the mess hall, responded curtly, “Mornin’.”

  Ducci wasted no time as he powered on several monitors that revealed satellite images of the continental United States. He nodded to Taylor, who joined him near the monitors while the rest of the attendees took a seat after the president lowered himself into a chair at the head of the table.

  An aide offered him a cup of coffee and he declined. Then another aide brought him a large tray of pastries to choose from. The president paused and tilted his head as he studied the croissants, muffins, and cheese Danishes.

  “You know what? Take these out there. Give them to the kids.”

  “But, sir.” One of the aides mistakenly questioned the president’s directive. He was quickly cut off and dismissed from the room.

  “Did I stutter?” the president shot back. His mood turned surly and combative.

  Ducci glanced at Taylor and then looked back toward the president so that the two men locked eyes. If they’d spoken their thoughts aloud, Ducci would’ve heard the president say, you’re gonna wish Angela were still around to keep me calm.

  Instead, the president instructed Ducci to get started. “I wanna know how this facility got compromised so suddenly and without w
arning.”

  “Mr. President,” began Ducci in response, “while Raven Rock is a marvel of structural engineering, the design team of the last century never envisioned being consumed by a flood of biblical proportions.”

  “So how long will it be before we start to drown in this elaborate cave?” asked the president sarcastically.

  Taylor stepped forward to save Ducci from the president’s ire. “Sir, NOAA has just reported that the rains have stopped across the continent, and although the Atlantic Ocean is still slowly rising and moving inland, the rate of land coverage has dropped considerably.”

  The president didn’t have a bone to pick with Taylor. On the contrary, he admired her very much and had come to rely upon her for information and advice. For the first time, he referred to her by her first name, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the attendees.

  “Nola, help me wrap my head around all of this. Just how high have the sea levels risen?”

  “Sir, if I may, I’d like to show you a computer-generated rendering of water levels across North America. Of course, these are not precise. However, based upon the topography as modified by the earthquakes along the Cumberland Mountains, the New Madrid fault line, and in the Rockies, we feel it provides a fair overall assessment.”

  Taylor used a mouse positioned at the end of the conference table to navigate through a series of images until she found the one she wanted. A topography map of North America appeared with an overlay showing the borders of Canada, Mexico, and the lower forty-eight states.

  “My god,” muttered the president.

  Chapter 7

  Raven Rock Mountain Complex

  Liberty Township, Pennsylvania

  NASA’s Nola Taylor studied the map for a moment and then turned her attention back to the president. “Yes, sir. It is quite dramatic. Obviously, the visible land masses have been color enhanced to various shades of earth tones representing relative elevations to their surroundings. The waters range in shades of deep blue and turquoise representing the two oceans and the Caribbean Sea, as well as the primary blue tones indicating rivers and lakes.”