Page 83 of Eruption

She checked her watch.

If they hadn’t been delayed on their way from the airport by the first demonstrations, they should be here any minute.

She fixed herself another cup of coffee from the minibar setup and took it to the terrace. The helicopters were gone from the sky, perhaps off to invade O‘ahu.

Maybe Oliver Cutler, that grandstanding gasbag, had been right. Rachel had seen him on the news once she got back to her room after trying in vain to catch up with John MacGregor. Maybe this eruption was going to be the Biggest One, and that was all there was to the story.

But by now, Rachel Sherrill’s paranoia levels were high, especially when it came to anything involving the United States Army. It didn’t take much to make her flash back to the blackened banyan grove. This time it had been the helicopters.

She heard loud knocking on her door.

When she opened it, she saw a young man and a young woman. The guy had shaggy hair and a beard and wore a T-shirt underneath his wrinkled sport jacket. The young woman wore a white summer dress and reminded Rachel of Halle Berry.

“Rachel?” the guy asked.

Rachel grinned. “I have a feeling you know that already.”

The guy said, “Hey, we’re from theNew York Times.We know everything.”

“Even when it’s not fit to print,” the young woman said. “May we come in?”

CHAPTER 59

Hawaiian Volcano Observatory, Hawai‘i

Time to eruption: 48 hours

Mac was working on his laptop while construction crews descended on Mauna Loa like an invading army of their own. Jenny came in and walked around his desk and put a hand on his shoulder. Mac looked at it, then up at her, and saw her smiling at him.

“We’re all scrambling here,” Mac said. “The general included.”

“And we might all be about to die no matter what we do and no matter how righteous we think our plan is,” Jenny said.

“You’re starting to sound like me,” Mac said.

“I get to say what I’m thinking sometimes, just like you,” she said. “And I’m allowed to be scared.”

Mac knew how tough Jenny was; he often complimented her on it. But now she looked like she was about to cry.

“Hey,” he said. “Take it easy.”

“You first,” she said.

They looked at each other until she made a quick motion with her hand, as if she were brushing away a tear. She started to say something, stopped herself, and left him sitting there.

He went to his social media accounts then and found a meme that showed lava flowing through a living room where J. P. Brett was standing like Moses parting the Red Sea, except he was stopping the lava.

He was about to call Brett and ask if he had anything to do with that when Betty Kilima, who’d given up her duties as librarian to run interference for Mac, gave a quick rap on his door and poked her head in.

“There’s a couple of people out in the lobby who want to speak with you,” Betty said.

“Tell them I’m busy.”

“They say they’re from theNew York Times,” she said.

He called Rivers immediately and asked what he should do.

“What I would,” Rivers said. “Lie.”