Earthquake Terror: Chapters 14–16

The expression on the man’s face changed from antagonism to concern. “Your kids were alone?” he said. “On the island?”

The National Guard officer at the table said, “The island flooded. It’s gone.”
“I know,” Mr. Palmer said. “But Jonathan and Abby may have found a way to stay afloat. Jonathan’s very resourceful. We need to send search planes, to look for them.”

Despite the cold, a warm flush of satisfaction spread through her.

He choked and coughed as the oxygen rushed into his lungs, but he did not regain consciousness.

This time, Jonathan lifted his head unaided, gasping for air. His arms thrashed wildly, pushing at the river.

Jonathan bent his knees and pushed, kicking his legs like a frog. His toes tingled, as if his feet had fallen asleep from being in the same position too long. Jonathan kicked harder; the blood began to circulate again in his legs.

Abby lay still, absorbing the knowledge that her whereabouts were unknown to the rest of the world.

A National Guard helicopter rose at dawn and headed south, toward the Tuscan River. A pilot and two medics were on board.
As they neared the river, they saw total destruction below them. Great crevices had opened in the Earth’s surface.

“You are my sunshine,” she began. “My only sunshine.”
The waves lapped a rhythmic accompaniment and, far in the distance, a sea gull cried.

“It’s a kid,” the first medic said, as they descended. His voice rose. “It has to be one of those Palmer kids. The father said they had a dog with them.”

“Don’t you fret about that dog, son,” the first medic said. “Your dog is going for a helicopter ride, too, and after we get you to the hospital, we’ll see that the dog is returned to your dad.”

“The body’s diving reflex allows us to survive in cold water even when we’re submerged for long periods of time. The heartbeat slows and the arteries nearest the skin get smaller so that the blood carries oxygen away from your arms and legs and toward your heart and brain. In cold water, the oxygen needs of the tissues are reduced, which extends the possible time of survival. It’s really quite remarkable, and the diving reflex is more active in children than in adults.”

“Rest while I call the National Guard emergency line and leave a message for your father. I’ll tell the doctor you’re awake, too. He’ll want to check you again. And I’ll send word down to your mother, though I don’t imagine she’s slept off the anesthetic yet.”

He had no idea how much time had passed. The doctor checked him twice. “You have a concussion,” the doctor said, “and hypothermia, but you’ll heal. You’ll be fine in a few weeks.”

Two hours later, men in white uniforms rolled a gurney into Jonathan’s room. The small body under the blanket lay perfectly still. The attendants unbuckled the straps that held the patient in place, and lifted her into the hospital bed.