“Oh, for the love of God, Jake,” Elsa moaned, shaking her head. “It’s right next to the backyard gate, on the street side, near the garbage cans.”
“Right,” Jake said. “I seem to remember seeing it there before.”
While Elsa began to move about the house, checking everywhere there was a gas line, Jake opened the front door and stepped out into the night. The sound of car alarms was still the primary noise out here, interspersed with a few house alarms and the distant sound of sirens. A good portion of his neighbors were outside, some seemingly on the same mission as Jake, but most just looking around anxiously. Jake did not have a good relationship with his neighbors and made no attempt to communicate with any of them, nor did they with him.
He found the gas meter right where Elsa had told him it would be and he put his face up near it, sniffing loudly, trying to detect even a hint of natural gas odor. He smelled nothing, so he went through the gate and into the backyard, still carrying his wrench in hand. He found more destruction out here. It appeared that a considerable amount of water had sloshed out of his swimming pool during the quake and flooded over his deck area. Patio furniture and tables had been pushed around or overturned and there were several inches of standing water on the lawn itself.
Jake looked out over the hillside to the cityscape below and got his first hint of just how bad the quake had been. Entire sections of the city were darkened of city lights and he could see the orange spark of multiple fires and columns of smoke rising from them. Everywhere, he could see the flashing red and blue lights of emergency vehicles moving about on the streets.
“Christ,” he muttered. For the first time it occurred to him to worry about Pauline and Obie, and the Nerdlys, and Celia and Greg.
He ran up the stairs onto the upper deck, where he and Greg had had their conversation the night before, and then pounded on the sliding glass door until Elsa came and unlocked it for him.
“For God’s sake, Jake,” Elsa scolded. “Why didn’t you come back in the same door you went out?”
“This one was closer,” he said dismissively. “No gas smell out there. How about in here?”
“Nothing,” she said. “And the water is still running as well, although we should probably not drink it until we hear from the authorities that it’s safe.”
“Yeah ... good idea,” Jake said, glad that Elsa was here. Abstaining from drinking the water would not have occurred to him. “Have you looked out here yet?” He pointed to the cityscape.
“I haven’t,” she said, stepping out onto the deck and taking a gander. “My God, Jake. Half the city is dark ... and there are fires.”
“Yep,” he said. “It was a bad one all right. I’m gonna call Paulie and make sure she and Obie are okay. She’s only a week from her due date. This would be a real bad time for her to go into labor.”
“Lord have mercy,” Elsa exclaimed. “I didn’t think of that.”
“That’s okay,” Jake told her, heading for the phone. “You thought of everything else.”
Jake picked up the cordless phone from its holder, pushed the button that turned it on, and then put it to his ear. He was gratified to hear a dial tone. His gratification turned to dismay, however, when he pushed the first three numbers of Pauline’s digits and was interrupted by the shrill three tone warning and a recorded female voice telling him that she was sorry, all circuits were busy right now, and that he should hang up and try his call again later. He did so, with the same result. He then tried dialing Nerdly’s number. The circuits were busy for that one as well. And for Greg and Celia.
“Well ... shit,” he said, putting the device back in its folder. “The phones are all jammed.”
“Unsurprising,” Elsa said. “Everyone in Los Angeles is trying to call someone else at the same time. It’ll probably be a few hours before you’ll be able to get through.”
“What do we do then?” Jake asked.
“Let’s see if the radio works,” she suggested. “Maybe they’re still on the air.”
He went over to the stereo and flipped it on, turning it to the radio setting. The entire FM bank was silent except for some staticky blurbs that were indecipherable. He had a little better luck with the AM band—which he never listened to. All of the local stations were off the air but, since it was still dark outside, he was able to pull in several stations from Mexico, Arizona, and northern California. Most, however, were only playing crappy music or talk shows that were saying nothing about an earthquake. Finally, he happened upon a news channel from the Sacramento area. They were reporting on the earthquake in LA but had no more information than Jake had, which was to say that all they knew was that a large quake had just rocked the LA basin and that they were waiting for word of damages and injuries.
“Well,” said Elsa with a sigh. “I guess there’s only one thing to do right now.”
“What’s that?” Jake asked.
“Start cleaning this mess up. You want to start upstairs and I’ll start working down here?”
Gradually, as the day went on, first the radio stations and then the television stations began to come back on the air. The earthquake was, of course, the only story they were telling. They said it was centered in the San Fernando Valley, in the community of Northridge, and that it was estimated to be 6.7 on the Richter scale. Multiple buildings had collapsed into rubble, including several hospitals. Several elevated freeways and freeways ramps had collapsed as well, including the I-10 corridor, which was the busiest and most important stretch of freeway in the Los Angeles region, and the I-5/Route 14 interchange, which was also quite important to LA travel. Dozens of deaths were reported, with the toll expected to rise as the rubble was cleared. Hundreds upon hundreds were injured and many were unable to get medical treatment because of the hospital damage. Gas lines and water lines had been severed all throughout the valley, wreaking further havoc. It was even reported that the scoreboard at Anaheim Stadium, where the Angels played, had fallen into the bleachers which, thankfully, had been empty at the time.
Phone service remained spotty throughout the day but Jake was finally able to get hold of Pauline just before noon.
“Yeah, we’re okay,” she told her brother. “We got some damage, mostly shit that fell off the walls or came crashing out of cabinets, but the house is still standing.”
“That’s good to hear,” Jake told her, relieved.
“Yeah, but there’s a problem,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“The fuckin’ hospital where I was going to deliver the clump has been damaged and evacuated. Not only that, but a lot of other hospitals are in the same boat. All the hospitals that aren’t damaged are being overwhelmed with the injured and with the evacuees from the hospitals that were. I’m due at pretty much any time, Jake. What’s going to happen if I go into labor today, or tomorrow, or even three days from now? The fuckin’ roads are a mess. If I can even get to a hospital, which one am I supposed to go to?”
“That is a problem,” Jake had to agree.
“No shit it’s a problem,” she said. “I need to get out of the LA area as soon as I can.”
“What about your doctor?” Jake asked.
“Fuck him,” she said plainly. “Dr. Bradshaw has seen me through this whole thing, but an OB doc is an OB doc. There are no complications expected with this delivery. It’s more important that I be in a decent, undamaged, un-overwhelmed hospital somewhere than making sure that Bradshaw is the one to pull the clump out of my cooter. I need you to fly me out of here someplace where it’s safe.”
“Like where?” he asked.
“How about Heritage?” she asked. “Mom and dad will be thrilled if I have the baby there and they can visit right away. And it’ll be fitting in a way, having little Tabby be born in my hometown.”
“That’s a two-hour flight in my little plane that has no bathroom aboard with a woman who pees every five minutes and might go into labor any time,” Jake said. “Are you sure that’s such a good idea?”