Alton Burr, who now began to regain consciousness, felt himself being dragged helplessly by the momentum of the widening crack into the deep chasm that was forming beneath him. He screamed in terror as he clawed desperately at the loose basalt, not able to gain a firm hold. Sliding further and further downward, he soon found himself wedged at the bottom of the forty-foot deep fissure.
The earth trembled violently around Maria as she felt a hand touch her shoulder. Eli said something, but with the ringing in her ears from the shock wave, she could not hear his voice. She made a gesture to her ears, signifying her lack of ability to hear him.
“Get the backpack,” Eli mouthed, pointing weakly to the bag lying dangerously close to the chasm. Beside the backpack sat the copper scroll that now ceased its luminance. He looked at her pleadingly, and then shut his eyes in pain. Maria started to crawl along the still trembling rocky floor toward the gigantic fissure, which was still slowly moving. She gazed at the scroll, wondering what made it emit such a radiant light. Maria then carefully picked up the scroll and put it in the backpack with the other items.
The ringing in her ears finally began to subside, and she was able to discern the sound of Burr screaming somewhere below. She carefully crawled to the edge of the newly-formed precipice, where she looked down to see Burr lying helpless at the bottom and howling in agony. His right leg was mangled and crushed under the huge sliding landmass, which slowly pulled his body inward like a gigantic paper shredder.
“You’ve got to help me!” Burr cried out in blinding agony as another sliding jolt pulled him in further. His hip joint was ripped out of its socket as he let out a blood-curdling scream. Maria looked at Eli, who lay silently with his eyes closed coughing up bits of blood. He has done nothing to deserve this fate, she thought angrily. He has been my mentor and friend and almost a father to me. She gazed at him with affection then looked back down at Alton Burr, who held out his bloody outstretched hand.
“Say hello to El Diablo for me, Mr. Burr,” she yelled down to him, leaving Alton Burr, the ACLU Lawyer who would run for Congress and beat God, to his fate.
Maria clutched the backpack and crawled back to Eli Turner. With her eyes now closed, she held on tightly to Eli as the momentous trembling of the slide slowly progressed. Burr’s tortured screams mercifully ended after the first few minutes. Then suddenly, the trembling began to cease. Miraculously, the tremendous island-sized landmass stopped its progression to the sea. In the unexpected silence, she opened her eyes and smiled to see Eli looking up at her.
“Don’t forget my hat,” he said weakly. Eli smiled back at her and coughed as the stain on his blood soaked shirt began to spread further.
“God forbid, you’d lose your hat,” she said tearfully, reaching behind him and picking up the elder Turner’s outback hat and placing it gently on his head. “Do you think you can manage walking?” Maria asked as she opened his shirt and stuffed her bandana onto the wound. This caused him to wince in pain.
“Not if you keep doing that,” he managed to reply in protest.
“I’ve got to stop the bleeding, Eli. I’m sorry,” she said as she got up to look around at what was left of the lava tube. The dust was starting to settle and she could now see the magnitude of what had just occurred. Immediately, she realized just how precarious their position was.
The ancient lava tube was now part of a ledge that ran the entire length of the Cumbre Vieja. It was the demarcation point where the western flank separated and began its slide to the sea, then astonishingly ceased its downward trek. They were now on a ledge that overlooked a gaping three-hundred foot drop, with no way up or down. She saw that the huge hand-shaped monolith where the rope was once tied had tumbled down the side of the caldera. It shattered into a million pieces, taking with it their only way off the ledge.
Maria hesitated for a moment when she heard a sound coming from overhead. She finally saw the blue and white Bell Ranger that transported them to La Palma coming up the rise. She began yelling and waving frantically at it. The pilot just barely escaped from the plateau when the shock wave had begun. He assumed that his party had been killed by the massive quake but came up the ridge line to look for survivors. He could not see Maria and Eli on the ledge, so he continued flying east to the safety of Tenerife.
“There goes our ride, Maria,” Eli said weakly, looking at the sleek Ranger as it headed out of sight. “What now?”
Maria fumbled through the backpack searching for anything that could help them. Pulling Burr’s cell phone out of the backpack, she smiled. “We’ll have to call for a cab.”
After dialing the number, she looked up at the sky. As the late day sun began its slow descent to the west over the Atlantic Ocean, the horizon turned a crimson red. Tons of ash still belched skyward from the Cumbre Vieja caldera as its magma core slowly began to cool; receding back into the Earth.
30
Behind the loading platform outside of the Bishamon facility, Captain Saune and his remaining men continued their desperate firefight with Yagato Osama’s Yakuza soldiers. They had not made any progress since their helicopter drop-off earlier. The situation was dire and without a miracle, Saune knew in his heart that they were going to die.
Saune stood and fired the last 40mm grenade from his rifle launcher, but with no luck. Osama’s men were well-entrenched high above in the cave entrance. Two more of Saune’s men lie dead as the soldiers fired unmercifully down upon the bullet-ridden metal platform. He and his sergeant huddled with their backs to the platform as another barrage of bullets whizzed over them. Both were down to their last ammo clips.
“Captain,” Sergeant Ortega yelled above the rain of bullets spraying overhead. “I don’t think we’re gonna’ get out of this one alive. Do you think we should surrender?”
“These guys don’t take prisoners, Ortega,” Captain Saune yelled back, resolving that this was to be their last stand. He only hoped that Turner and Samuel would succeed in their mission inside the complex.
“Captain Saune,” a voice came through on his earpiece, which he knew to be one of the men over by the boulder. “We’re running low on ammo here. Two of the men are already out,” he reported anxiously. Saune hit the transmitter of his radio VHF replying, “Conserve your ammo and make every shot count.”
He then slumped back, low against the platform, knowing that it was a hopeless situation and he was to blame for the deaths of these good men. Hitting the transmitter again, he spoke. “Gentlemen, whatever happens, I want you all to know that you fought with valor and it has been a privilege to serve with all of you.” He closed his eyes, feeling death’s grasp coming closer with each moment.
Suddenly, from the earpieces they wore came a crackling sound. A new voice boomed over each man’s VHF link.
“To the combatants on the ground, this is Colonel Kyle Sears of the United States Marine Corps. What is your present situation, and can I be of assistance? Over….”
All the embattled Tenerife National Guardsmen cheered with elated hearts at hearing those words. Captain Saune wiped a tear of relief from his eye, smiled at the sergeant, and hit him joyfully on the back.
“Colonel Sears, we’ve got some men down here that are real glad to hear your voice,” Saune said. “I am Captain Rafael Saune of the Tenerife National Guard. We are in a desperate situation here, Colonel. We're pinned down below the Bishamon facility on its western flank. Our opponents control the high ground above us in a cave opening beneath the facility. We cannot advance and our ammo is low. Over….”