The Tsunami Countdown Read online

  “So HSCD is going to evacuate?” Brad said. “You know, your daughter—my niece—is at the beach today.”

  “I know. Along with a hundred thousand other people.”

  “So, shouldn’t we call Rachel and Teresa and let them know?”

  Kai was tempted to set aside the duties of the job and warn his own family. If everyone did that, though, the entire system—the government, fire department, police department, emergency services—would grind to a halt. He had to trust that the warning system in place would work. But that didn’t mean that Brad couldn’t call them.

  “Try Teresa’s cell. Her battery was dying, but she still might have it on. Then call Rachel and let her know what’s happening. All the hotels are part of the warning system, but it can’t hurt to call her anyway.” Kai handed Brad his cell phone. “She’s busy this morning, so she probably won’t answer it unless she sees that it’s my phone number. If she doesn’t answer, choose the pager option when you get her greeting, then dial 999. That’s our code for an emergency.” Kai had instituted the code three years ago when Lani broke her leg playing soccer and he wasn’t been able to get Rachel to answer her phone for two hours.

  Brad took the phone and went into the conference room to make the call. Reggie almost knocked him over running into the ops center.

  “I got ’em!” he said.

  “The scientists? Thank God! How many are there?”

  “Seven.”

  “Do they have a boat?”

  “No, but they have a plane. The weekly supply flight from Hawaii didn’t take the holiday off. But there’s a problem.”

  Kai’s stomach sank. “With the plane? It can’t take off?”

  “Oh, it can take off. In fact, they should be getting into the air in a few minutes. But it’s just a small supply plane. It can only take five of the scientists. Two of them will have to stay behind.”

  At that exact moment, Kai heard the first wail of the tsunami siren.

  THIRTEEN

  10:05 a.m.

  1 Hour and 17 Minutes to Wave Arrival Time

  Realizing she could do nothing more for the Russian tour group until the interpreter arrived in about an hour, Rachel had turned her full attention to the most important event taking place at the hotel: the governor’s veterans brunch. The event had been under way for five minutes, right on time despite the ramp problem. Rachel stood at the back watching Governor Elizabeth Kalama give her speech, ready to make sure any potential issues were resolved quickly and quietly.

  Because Rachel’s job was all about communication, she carried a walkie-talkie and cell phone at all times. The walkie-talkie was for in-hotel communications with the staff, and the cell phone connected her with external vendors and clients. Either one could go off at any time. This time it was her cell phone. She had it set to vibrate mode so that it wouldn’t interrupt the speech from the dais.

  She pulled it from her belt and looked at the number. It was Kai’s cell phone. She sighed and replaced it on her belt, letting it go to voice mail.

  After another few seconds her cell phone’s pager feature went off. She picked it up again and looked at the number typed in the display, expecting to see Kai’s cell phone number again. Instead, she saw 999. Their emergency code.

  She called him back immediately.

  “Kai?” she whispered. “What’s going on?”

  “Rachel, it’s Brad.”

  “Brad? Where’s Kai?”

  “He’s busy. He wanted you to know that he just issued a tsunami warning.”

  “Oh, no! Right now?”

  “Yeah, you should be getting the official warning in a few minutes.”

  “Oh my God! I’m at a brunch in our ballroom. The governor’s here.”

  “Wait a sec.” She heard Brad in the background say, “She’s got the friggin’ governor with her.”

  Kai’s voice came on the line.

  “It’s me, hon.”

  “So, a tsunami is really coming?”

  “We don’t know for sure yet, but it looks like it.”

  “Jesus! When is it supposed to get here?”

  “In a little more than an hour.”

  “An hour? You said that a tsunami from Alaska would take five hours to get here.”

  “It’s not from Alaska.”

  “A local one? The Big Island?” Rachel knew that a tsunami caused by landslides or earthquakes in the Hawaiian Islands would take less than forty-five minutes to reach Oahu.

  “No, somewhere in the Pacific. Listen, Rachel, I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you soon. Here’s Brad again. Be safe.”

  A raspy sound came through as the phone got passed back.

  “It’s me.”

  “Hey, Brad,” Rachel said, “I’ve got to get things in motion here.”

  “Wait, Rachel! Does Lani have a cell phone?”

  Rachel just assumed Teresa had already been warned to take Lani and Mia to safety.

  “Why?” she said. “What’s wrong? Is she okay? Where is she?”

  “Slow down. I don’t know. I tried calling Teresa, but all I get is her voice mail. I was hoping Lani had a cell phone.”

  “No. She’s going to get a new one for her birthday.”

  “Well, I’m sure they’ll hear the sirens and get to high ground.”

  “Brad, make sure they’re okay. Please? I won’t have time. I’ve got to get the hotel ready.”

  “Don’t worry. I got it covered.”

  Brad sounded confident, but then, he always sounded confident. She just had to trust him, so she hung up and turned her attention to her duties.

  As the governor continued her speech, Rachel weaved her way through the tables of disabled vets. Because the Grand Hawaiian was a state-of-the-art Waikiki resort, it had a well-thought-out tsunami warning plan. The hotel ran drills every three months to familiarize the employees with the procedures in case of a tsunami. Rachel had been through two of them.

  Procedure called for the first, second, and third floors to be evacuated and for all guests to be moved to a level higher than that. The ballroom was on the sixth floor, so she wouldn’t have to evacuate anyone at the brunch.

  She spotted the governor’s assistant, William Kim, with whom she had coordinated the banquet. He had been an annoyance to her for a week now, changing every detail of the governor’s appearance five times. Giving him this news wasn’t going to be pretty.

  “Mr. Kim,” she said in a low whisper, “I need to talk to you. Right now.”

  She pulled him to the side of the room.

  “What is it? I’m missing the governor’s speech.”

  “A tsunami might be coming.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. The tsunami warning should come out any minute. You have to tell the governor.”

  “In the middle of her speech?”

  “Don’t you think it might be something she’d like to know as soon as possible?”

  “So the tsunami warning hasn’t been issued?”

  “It has. We just don’t have the official announcement.”

  “Then how do you know—”

  “My husband told me. He’s the—”

  “Your husband?” he said with a snotty tone. “Mrs. Tanaka, the governor is running for the U.S. Senate next year, and there are some very important donors in the room. If I interrupt her, and you’re wrong—”

  “Please, Mr. Kim, I’m not an idiot. As I was trying to say, my husband is the assistant director of Pacific Tsunami Warning Center.”

  “Fine. Come back when we get the actual tsunami warning. The governor can at least finish the speech.”

  “Look, I don’t have time for this, and neither does the governor.” With that, she strode onto the stage with Kim following her. He stopped short of holding her back, not wanting to make a scene.

  As Rachel reached the podium, she thought she could hear the faint peal of a siren through the ballroom’s insulated walls. She put her hand lightly on the governor’s s
houlder. The governor stopped her speech to look at who was interrupting her and put her hand over the microphone.

  “Yes?” she said. “Who are you?”

  “Governor, I tried to stop her—” Kim began.

  Rachel talked over him. “Governor, I’m Rachel Tanaka, the hotel manager. A tsunami warning has been issued for Hawaii.”

  “What?”

  “Ma’am, my husband is Kai Tanaka, the—”

  “Kai Tanaka? From the PTWC?”

  “That’s right, Ma’am. You know him?”

  “I met him four months ago during a tsunami drill.”

  “Governor, he told me that there’s a good likelihood that a tsunami is heading this way and will be here in a little more than an hour.”

  “An hour?” Kim said, startled. Then he went on the defensive. “Governor, she didn’t tell me that—”

  “Be quiet, William,” the governor said. The hush of the crowd was starting to give way to murmurs. “Mrs. Tanaka, you’re sure about this?”

  Kai might be new to the job, but he was one of the smartest people Rachel had ever met. He wouldn’t have issued the warning if he didn’t have a good reason.

  “Ma’am, my husband knows tsunamis. If he says there might be one coming, then we need to get ready.”

  “I agree. William, get my car. I’ll tell the audience what’s happening and then turn it over to Mrs. Tanaka.”

  “Certainly, Ma’am,” Kim said, and hurried off the stage. If he’d had a tail, it would have been between his legs. Rachel stayed on the dais.

  The governor turned back to the crowd with a somber face, and the audience fell silent immediately.

  “I apologize for the interruption. I have just been informed that a tsunami warning has been issued for the Hawaiian Islands.” A buzz ran through the crowd, and the governor raised her hands to quiet them. “Now, as you might have guessed, this will require me to cut the speech off here so that I may attend to the emergency—”

  Rachel’s walkie-talkie squawked to life, and she stepped off the dais to answer it. It was Max.

  “Rachel, are you there?”

  “Max, did we get a tsunami warning?”

  “It just came in a few seconds ago. How did you know?”

  “That’s not important. Get the book out and start following the emergency procedures. Make sure you notify the staff first. They need to keep the guests from panicking. I’ve already informed the governor.”

  “Got it.”

  “Hopefully, it’s just a false alarm, so let’s make sure this goes as smoothly as possible. I’ll be down when I can.”

  “But—” Max sputtered.

  “The governor’s wrapping up. I’ve got to go. Just keep calm.” She replaced the walkie-talkie and stepped back onto the dais next to the governor.

  “… so I urge you to stay where you are, and Mrs. Tanaka, the hotel manager, will see to it that you are well taken care of. Let us all pray that this is a false alarm so that we can continue with our holiday remembrances at the Hawaii State Veterans Cemetery later this afternoon. I hope to see you there. God bless us and God bless the United States of America.”

  The crowd applauded as the governor left with her gaggle of assistants, and Rachel took the podium. Hundreds of concerned faces looked up at her. She paused to make sure she could keep her voice calm and professional.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Rachel Tanaka, the hotel manager. This tsunami warning is an unfortunate development, but we’ll try to do our best to make you comfortable until this is over. This hotel has been designed with the latest in tsunami safety design elements, and you are more than sixty feet above the ground here. Of course, you are free to leave if you desire, but we recommend that you stay where you are, enjoy our hospitality, and wait for the all-clear to sound. We will inform you about further developments as we get them. So sit back, relax, and I’m sure this will all be over quickly.”

  FOURTEEN

  10:07 a.m.

  1 Hour and 15 Minutes to Wave Arrival Time

  Teresa had just dozed off, soothed by the warm sand and light breeze from the ocean. When the warning siren went off, it startled her so much that the book resting on her hand went flying and landed next to an elderly couple sitting in beach chairs five feet away. She sat up and looked around to see where the sound was coming from. After a few seconds she spotted a bright yellow siren atop a pole a few hundred feet along the beach. The wail rose and dropped in pitch, reminding her of the air raid sirens she had heard in movies.

  The man in the chair rose and picked up the book. Although he wore a hat and had slathered his nose with zinc oxide, the poor guy was only another hour from a severe sunburn on the rest of his body. He handed the book to her.

  “Here you go,” he said with a thick southern drawl. “You look pretty surprised.”

  “I was taking a nap,” she said. “What the hell is that?”

  “Yeah, I wonder what the heck is going on. We getting bombed by the Japs again? And on Memorial Day too.” He laughed at what he thought was a good joke.

  Teresa didn’t smile back. “Maybe it’s some kind of drill.”

  “Oh, yeah, tsunami warning test. I read about that on the plane over here from Mississippi. Hattiesburg is where we’re from. Never been out to Hawaii before. Wanted to read all about it. Couldn’t get Eunice here to read a bit of the book. Said she just wants to relax.”

  “Did they have to schedule it for the middle of the morning?”

  “Don’t know. Thought the book said it was sometime around the beginning of the month. Maybe I didn’t read it right.”

  The siren continued to wail. Teresa thought it would go off after just a minute, but the minute passed. It didn’t stop.

  “Darryl,” Eunice said, “what is that siren?” She picked up a radio that had been at her side and nervously twiddled with the knobs.

  Darryl patted her reassuringly. “It’s a tsunami warning. Don’t worry about it, Eunice.”

  Teresa scanned the beach; few of the other beachgoers even seemed to notice the siren. Most of them went on with whatever they were doing: playing, sunbathing, swimming. The siren seemed to have no effect on them, except that she saw several small children with their hands over their ears.

  “That’s funny,” said Eunice. “The radio just said there was a salami warning. I thought that meant there was something wrong with the lunch meat on the island.”

  “It’s just a test. And it’s tsunami, not salami. You know, a tidal wave.”

  “They didn’t say it was a test. It just keeps repeating.”

  Teresa walked over to the radio to hear it for herself. An even, measured male voice issued from the ancient-looking device. She supposed the voice was intended to convey a sense of calm about the situation, to prevent panic, but she thought it seemed mechanical, too detached, as if he were describing the potential for afternoon showers.

  “… warning for the Hawaiian Islands. This is not a drill. The Pacific Tsunami Warning Center has advised that a destructive tsunami may be approaching the coastline of Hawaii. Evacuation procedures are under way. It is recommended that you move to high ground immediately. All Hawaii telephone books include maps that show evacuation routes and safe areas under the section called ‘Disaster Preparedness Info.’ The earliest arrival time for the tsunami is listed as follows: For the Big Island, the wave arrival time is approximately 10:44 a.m. For Maui, Lanai, and Molokai, the wave arrival time is approximately 11:14 a.m. For Oahu, the wave arrival time is approximately 11:22 a.m …”

  Teresa fumbled through her purse to get her watch. It was 10:08 a.m. Only an hour and fourteen minutes until the tsunami arrived.

  “… For Kauai, the wave arrival time is 11:35 a.m. Please follow all instructions given by your local authorities.” A brief pause; then: “This is a tsunami warning for the Hawaiian Islands. This is not a …”

  The message began to repeat.

  Teresa felt her stomach go cold. “It’s not a test
,” she said.

  “Are you sure?” Darryl said.

  She shook her head. “It wouldn’t repeat. It would end with a message saying that it was only a test, and the siren would shut off.”

  “You mean there’s a real tidal wave coming?” Eunice said, alarmed at the prospect. “What should we do?”

  “Is your hotel nearby?”

  “Yeah,” Darryl said, “it’s that big one over there. The Hilton.” He pointed to a thirty-story building.

  “What floor is your room on?”

  “The twentieth.”

  “Good. Go back to your hotel room until they say it’s over.”

  “You should come with us. Got plenty of room. Maybe even order up some room service.”

  “I can’t. I have to find my daughter and her friend.”

  “Oh, my goodness, dear,” Eunice said. “You don’t know where they are?”

  Teresa felt stung by the comment, even though she didn’t think Eunice meant it as an criticism of her parenting skills.

  “No. They went shopping.”

  “What store?” Darryl said.

  Teresa shook her head. She pointed toward Diamond Head. “They went that way.”

  “How will you find them? They have a cell phone?”

  Teresa was feeling worse as a mother by the minute. She had let her daughter go off to who-knew-where without any way of communicating with her. She didn’t do anything differently from what a thousand other parents on this beach would have done. But the thought that she wasn’t the only person who had lost track of her kids didn’t make her feel any better.

  Teresa put on her sarong and tank top. “No, they don’t have a cell phone,” she said, her voice cracking from worry. “And my cell phone battery is almost dead anyway.”