Judy looked over his shoulder. On the screen she saw a pattern just like the one he had shown her on Sunday. "Where is it?" she said. "Give me a location!"
"I'm working on it," he snapped back. "Shouting at me won't make the computer triangulate faster."
How could he be so damn touchy at a time like this? "Why is there no earthquake? Maybe their method isn't working!"
"In Owens Valley it didn't work the first time."
"I didn't know that."
"Okay, here are the coordinates."
Judy and Charlie Marsh went to the wall map. Michael sang out coordinates. "Here!" Judy said triumphantly. "Right on Route 101, south of San Francisco. A town called Felicitas. Carl, call the local police. Raja, notify the Highway Patrol. Charlie, I'm coming with you in the chopper."
"This is not pinpoint accurate," Michael warned. "The vibrator could be anywhere within a mile or so of the coordinates."
"How can we narrow it down?"
"If I look at the landscape, I can spot the fault line."
"You better come in the helicopter. Grab a bulletproof vest. Let's go!"
*
"It's not working!" Priest said, trying to control his alarm.
Melanie said: "It didn't work the first time in Owens Valley, don't you remember?" She sounded exasperated. "We had to move the truck and try again."
"Shit, I hope we have time," Priest said. "Drive, Oaktree! Back to the truck!"
Oaktree put the old car in drive and tore down the hill.
Priest turned and shouted to Melanie over the roar of the engine. "Where do you think we should move it to?"
"There's a side street almost opposite the coffee shop--go down there about four hundred yards. That's where the fault line runs."
"Okay."
Oaktree stopped the car in front of the coffee shop. Priest leaped out. A heavy middle-aged woman stood in front of him. "Did you hear that noise?" she said. "It seemed to be coming from your truck. It was earsplitting!"
"Get out of my way or I'll split your fucking head," Priest said. He jumped into the truck. He raised the plate, put the transmission in drive, and pulled away. He shot out onto the street in front of a big old station wagon. The wagon screeched to a halt, and the driver honked indignantly. Priest headed down the side street.
He drove four hundred yards and stopped outside a neat one-story house with a fenced garden. A small white dog barked fiercely at him through the fence. Working with feverish haste, he again lowered the plate of the vibrator and checked its dials. He set it to remote operation, jumped out, and got back into the 'Cuda.
Oaktree screeched around in a U-turn and tore off. As they raced along Main Street, Priest observed that their activities were beginning to attract attention. They were watched by a couple carrying shopping bags, two boys on mountain bikes, and three fat men who came out of a bar to see what was going on.
They came to the end of Main Street and turned up the hill. "This is far enough," Priest said. Oaktree stopped the car, and Priest activated the remote control.
He could hear the truck vibrating six blocks away.
Star said shakily: "Are we safe here?"
They were silent, frozen in suspense, waiting for the earthquake.
The truck vibrated for thirty seconds, then stopped.
"Too safe," Priest said to Star.
Oaktree said: "It ain't fucking working, Priest!"
"This happened last time," Priest said desperately. "It's gonna work!"
Melanie said: "You know what I think? The earth here is too soft. The town is close to the river. Soft, wet ground soaks up vibrations."
Priest turned to her accusingly. "Yesterday you told me earthquakes cause more damage on wet ground."
"I said that buildings on wet soil are more likely to be damaged, because the ground underneath them moves more. But for transmitting shock waves to the fault, rock should be better."
"Skip the goddamn lecture!" Priest said. "Where do we try next?"
She pointed up the hill. "Where we came off the freeway. It's not directly on the fault line, but the ground should be rock."
Oaktree raised an eyebrow at Priest. Priest said: "Back to the truck, go!"
They raced back along Main Street, watched now by more people. Oaktree screeched into the side street and skidded to a halt next to the seismic vibrator. Priest jumped into the truck, raised the plate, and pulled away, flooring the gas pedal.
The truck moved with painful slowness through the town and crawled up the hill.
When it was halfway up, the police car they had seen earlier came off the freeway ramp, lights flashing and siren sounding, and sped past them, heading into town.
At last the truck arrived at the spot from which Priest had first looked over the town and pronounced it perfect. He stopped across the road from the Big Ribs restaurant. For the third time, he lowered the vibrator's plate.
Behind him he could see the 'Cuda. Coming back up the hill from the town was the police cruiser. Glancing up, he spotted a helicopter in the distant sky.
He had no time to get clear of the truck and use the remote. He would have to activate the vibrator sitting here in the driver's seat.
He put his hand on the control, hesitated, and pulled the lever.
*
From the helicopter, Felicitas looked like a town asleep.
It was a bright, clear evening. Judy could see Main Street and the grid of streets around it, the trees in the gardens and the cars in the driveways, but nothing seemed to be moving. A man watering flowers was so motionless, he seemed to be a statue; a woman in a big straw hat stood still on the sidewalk; three teenage girls on a street corner were frozen in place; two boys had stopped their bicycles in the middle of the road.
There was movement on the freeway that flew past the town on the elegant arches of a viaduct. As well as the usual mixture of cars and trucks, she spotted two police cruisers a mile or so away, approaching the town at high speed, coming, she assumed, in response to her emergency call.
But in the town no one moved.
After a moment she figured out what was going on.
They were listening.
The roar of the helicopter prevented her from hearing what they were listening to, but she could guess. It had to be the seismic vibrator.
But where was it?
The chopper flew low enough for her to identify the makes of cars parked on Main Street, but she could not see a vehicle big enough to be a seismic vibrator. None of the trees that partly obscured the side streets seemed big enough to hide a full-size truck.
She spoke to Michael over the headset. "Can you see the fault line?"
"Yes." He was studying a map and comparing it with the landscape beneath. "It crosses the railroad, the river, the freeway, and the gas pipeline. Dear God almighty, there's going to be some damage."
"But where's the vibrator?"
"What's that on the hillside?"
Judy followed his pointing finger. Above the town, close to the freeway, she saw a small cluster of buildings: a fast-food restaurant of some kind, a glass-walled office building, and a small wooden structure, probably a chapel. On the road near the restaurant were a mud-colored coupe that looked like an old muscle car from the early seventies, a police cruiser pulling up behind it, and a large truck painted all over with dragons in livid red and acid yellow. She made out the words "The Dragon's Mouth." "It's a carnival ride," she said.
"Or a disguise," he suggested. "That's about the right size for a seismic vibrator."
"My God, I bet you're right!" she said. "Charlie, are you listening?"
Charlie Marsh was sitting beside the pilot. Six members of his SWAT team were seated behind Judy and Michael, armed with stubby MP-5 submachine guns. The rest of the team were hurtling down the freeway in an armored truck, their mobile tactical operations center. "I'm listening," Charlie said. "Pilot, can you put us down near that carnival truck on the hill?"
"It's awkward," the pilot rep
lied. "The hillside slopes steeply, and the road forms a narrow ledge. I'd rather come down in the parking lot of that restaurant."
"Do it," Charlie said.
"There isn't going to be an earthquake, is there?" the pilot said.
Nobody answered him.
As the chopper came down, a figure jumped out of the truck. Judy peered at it. She saw a tall, thin man with long dark hair, and she felt immediately that this had to be her enemy. He stared up at the chopper, and it seemed as if his eyes were on her. She was too far away to see his features clearly, but she felt sure he was Granger.
Stay right there, you son of a bitch, I'm coming to get you.
The helicopter hovered over the parking lot and began to descend.
Judy realized that she and everyone with her could die in the next few seconds.
As the helicopter touched the ground, there was a noise like the crack of doom.
*
The bang was a thunderclap so loud, it drowned the roar of the seismic vibrator and the thrash of the helicopter rotors.
The ground seemed to rise up and hit Priest like a fist. He was watching the chopper land in the Big Ribs parking lot, thinking that the vibrator was pounding away in vain, his scheme had failed, and he would now be arrested and thrown in jail. The next moment he was flat on his face, feeling as if he had been punched out by Mike Tyson.
He rolled over, gasping for breath, and saw the trees all around him bending and twisting as if a hurricane were blowing.
A moment later he came to his senses and realized--it had worked! He had caused an earthquake.
Yes!
And he was in the middle of it.
Then he was afraid for his life.
The air rang with a terrifying rumbling sound like rocks being shaken in a giant pail. He scrambled to his knees, but the ground would not stay still, and in trying to stand up, he fell over again.
Oh, shit, I'm done for.
He rolled over and managed to sit upright.
He heard a sound like a hundred windows breaking. Looking over to his right, he saw that was exactly what was happening. The glass walls of the office building were all shattering at the same time. A million shards of glass flowed like a waterfall off the building.
Yes!
The Baptist chapel farther down the road seemed to fall over sideways. It was a flimsy wooden building, and its thin walls went down in a cloud of dust and lay flat on the ground, leaving a massive carved-oak lectern standing in the middle of the wreckage.
I did it! I did it!
The windows of Big Ribs smashed, and the screams of terrified children pierced the air. One corner of the roof sagged, then dropped on a group of five or six teenagers, crushing them and their table and their rib dinners. The other patrons rose in a wave and surged toward the now-glassless windows as the rest of the roof started to come down on them.
The air was full of the pungent smell of gasoline. The tremor had ruptured the tanks at the filling station, Priest thought. He looked across and saw a sea of fuel spilling over the forecourt. An out-of-control motorcycle came off the road, weaving from side to side, until the rider fell off and the machine slid across the concrete, striking sparks. The spilling gas caught a light with a whoosh, and a second later the entire plaza was ablaze.
Jesus Christ!
The fire was frighteningly close to the 'Cuda. He could see the car rocking up and down, and the terrified face of Oaktree behind the wheel.
He had never seen Oaktree scared.
The horses from the field next to the restaurant burst through the broken fence and galloped full-tilt along the road toward Priest, eyes staring, mouths open, terrified. Priest had no time to get out of the way. He covered his head with his hands. They raced by either side of him.
Down in the town, the church bell was ringing madly.
*
The helicopter lifted again a second after it had touched down. Judy saw the ground beneath her shimmer like a block of Jell-O. Then it fell away fast as the chopper gained height. She gasped to see the glass walls of the little office building turn to something that looked like surf and fall in a great wave to the ground. She saw a motorcyclist crash into the filling station, and she cried out in grief as the gasoline caught on fire and the flames engulfed the fallen rider.
The helicopter swung around, and her view changed. Now she saw across the flat plain. In the distance, a freight train was crossing the fields. At first she thought it had escaped damage, then she realized it was slowing harshly. It had come off the rails, and as she watched, horrified, the locomotive plowed into the field alongside the track. The loaded wagons began to snake as they piled into the back of the engine. Then the chopper swung around again, still rising.
Now Judy could see the town. It was a shocking sight. Desperate, panicky people were running into the street, mouths open in screams of terror that she could not hear, trying to escape as their houses collapsed, walls cracking open and windows exploding and roofs lurching terrifyingly sideways and falling into neat gardens and crushing cars in driveways. Main Street seemed to be on fire and flooded with water at the same time. Cars had crashed in the streets. There was a flash like lightning, then another, and Judy guessed power lines were snapping.
As the helicopter gained height, the freeway came into view, and Judy's hands flew to her mouth in horror as she saw that one of the giant arches supporting the viaduct had twisted and snapped. The roadbed had cracked, and a tongue of road now stuck out into midair. At least ten cars had piled up on either side of the break, and several were on fire. And the carnage was not over. Even as she watched, a big old Chevrolet with fins hurtled toward the precipice, skidding sideways as the driver tried in vain to stop. Judy heard herself scream as the car flew off the edge. She could see the terrified face of the driver, a young man, as he realized he was about to die. The car tumbled over and over in the air, with ghastly slowness, and finally crashed on the roof of a house below, bursting into flames and setting the building on fire.
Judy buried her face in her hands. It was too dreadful to watch. But then she remembered she was an FBI agent. She forced herself to look again. Cars on the freeway were now slowing early enough to stop before crashing, she saw. But Highway Patrol vehicles and the SWAT truck that was on its way would not be able to reach Felicitas from the freeway.
A sudden wind blew away the cloud of black smoke over the filling station, and Judy saw the man she thought was Ricky Granger.
You did this. You killed all these people. You piece of shit, I'm going to put you in jail if it's the last thing I do.
Granger struggled to his feet and ran to the brown coupe, shouting and gesticulating to the people inside.
The police cruiser was right behind the coupe, but the cops seemed slow to act.
Judy realized the terrorists were about to flee.
Charlie came to the same conclusion. "Go down, pilot!" he yelled through the headset.
"Are you out of your mind?" he shouted back.
"Those people did this!" Judy screamed, pointing over the pilot's shoulder. "They caused all this carnage and now they're getting away!"
"Shit," the pilot said, and the helicopter swooped toward the ground.
*
Priest yelled at Oaktree through the open window of the 'Cuda. "Let's get out of here!"
"Okay--which way?"
Priest pointed along the road that led to the town. "Take this road, but instead of going left into Main Street, turn right along the old country road--it leads back toward San Francisco, I checked."
"Okay!"
Priest saw the two local cops getting out of their cruiser.
He leaped into the truck, raised the plate, and pulled away, heaving on the steering wheel. Oaktree scorched a U-turn in the 'Cuda and headed down the hill. Priest turned the truck around more slowly.
One of the cops was standing in the middle of the road, pointing his gun at the truck. It was the thin youngster who had told Priest to e
njoy the rest of his day. Now he was shouting: "Police! Stop!"
Priest drove right at him.
The cop let off a wild shot, then dived out of the way.
The road ahead skirted the town to the east, avoiding the worst of the damage, which was in the town center. Priest had to swing around a pair of crashed cars outside the destroyed glass office building, but after that the road looked clear. The truck picked up speed.
We're going to make it!
Then the FBI helicopter landed in the middle of the road a quarter of a mile ahead.
Shit.
Priest saw the 'Cuda screech to a halt.
Okay, assholes, you asked for it.
Priest floored the gas pedal.
Agents in SWAT gear, armed to the teeth, leaped out of the chopper one by one and began to take cover at the roadside.
Priest in his truck careered down the hill, gathering speed, and roared past the stopped 'Cuda.
"Now follow me," Priest muttered, hoping Oaktree would guess what was expected of him.
He saw Judy Maddox jump out of the chopper. A bulletproof vest hid her graceful body, and she was holding a shotgun. She knelt behind a telegraph pole. A man tumbled out after her, and Priest recognized Melanie's husband, Michael.
Priest glanced in his side mirrors. Oaktree had the 'Cuda tucked in right behind him, making it a difficult target. He had not forgotten everything he had learned in the marines.
Behind the 'Cuda, a hundred yards back but going like a blue streak and gaining fast, was the police cruiser.
Priest's truck was twenty yards from the agents, heading straight for the chopper.
An FBI agent stood up at the roadside and aimed a stubby machine gun at the truck.
Jesus, I hope the feds don't have grenade launchers.
The chopper lifted off the ground.
*
Judy cursed. The helicopter pilot, bad at taking orders, had landed too close to the approaching vehicles. There was hardly time for the SWAT team and the other agents to spill out and take positions before the carnival truck was on them.
Michael staggered to the side of the road. "Lie flat!" Judy screamed at him. She saw the driver of the truck duck behind the dash as one of the SWAT team opened fire with his submachine gun. The windshield frosted, and holes appeared in the fenders and the hood, but the truck did not stop. Judy cried out with frustration.
She hastily aimed her M870 five-chamber shotgun and fired at the tires, but she was off balance and her shot went wide.