Broken Tide | Book 1 | Overfall Read online

  But not all tsunamis are created equal.

  When a tsunami reaches such a stupendous size that it towers hundreds of feet in the air and devastates everything in its path, the event is promoted to mega-tsunami. In July of 1958, a little-known spot on the coast of Alaska called Lituya Bay suffered an earthquake-triggered landslide, that in turn gave birth to a mega-tsunami. This wave reached a height of 100 feet and raced uphill more than 1,700 feet above sea level, scouring the landscape of all vegetation, stripping the hillside down to bare rock.

  The Lituya Bay mega-tsunami was caused by an estimated 30 million cubic meters of rock crashing into the bay. The Cumbre Vieja ridge volcano on La Palma in the Canary Islands erupted in 1949 and created a one-and-a-half-kilometer fracture down the middle of the island. The entire western flank of the volcano shifted a meter along the fracture and dropped between two and four meters toward the Atlantic before stopping short of a full-on landslide.

  When Cumbre Vieja finally breaks free, some estimates place the amount of rock involved at more than 500 cubic kilometers. Computer simulations show that the initial wave created by that much rock rushing into the Atlantic Ocean would tower over 900 meters in less than two minutes. A wave almost half a mile high can’t hold itself together, though, and within ten minutes would collapse to a little over a hundred meters high.

  But like a child that sloshes water in a bathtub, when a wave hits the side of the tub—or land—it rebounds and creates new waves. Computer models suggest a landslide at Cumbre Vieja would create a series of massive waves forming after the first titanic crest, each ranging over 500 meters high and devastating La Palma before rushing west.

  This series of waves, propelled by the enormous landslide, would quickly reach speeds in excess of 500 to 600 miles per hour. With nothing stopping them, they would spread out across the Atlantic, just like waves in every single tsunami event ever recorded. Every wave that makes landfall slows as it encounters the inclining sea floor leading to the coast, and with that slowing of momentum comes a gain in height.

  Over the open ocean, all tsunamis drop in height, and a La Palma mega-tsunami would be no different, falling from 900 meters to only a meter or two high in the middle of the Atlantic. But as it nears the coast of America, Canada, Mexico, the Caribbean Islands, and South America, those waves will regain some height, crashing ashore anywhere from 10 to 30 meters high.

  Size isn’t the only result of such an historic event. Where the 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami washed inland a little over a mile in most places, the mega-tsunami caused by a landslide on La Palma is projected to reach a staggering 12 miles or more inland before it retreats back to the ocean from whence it came.

  Many of America’s largest cities east of the Mississippi are well within that damage zone. Upwards of 20 million Americans would be at grave risk in such a situation and will have about six hours to evacuate inland.

  One only needs to look at the traffic snarls and congestion caused during hurricane evacuations in recent years—where citizens were well informed and had days to prepare—to see what chaos might be unleashed if millions of people all tried to flee inland within a six hour window.

  It has been said through the millennia that tides and time wait for no man. That saying will never be truer than when America faces a mega-tsunami.

  Chapter 1

  Green Harbor, Massachusetts

  Reese Lavelle yawned as he carried his backpack down the dock toward the sport fishing boat at the end of the concrete finger sticking out into the harbor’s cold waters. Next to him, his friend and colleague from TechSafe, Ben Hillmer laughed and shoved a styrofoam coffee cup into Reese’s hand.

  “Wake up, man, today’s the day!”

  “It’s a day,” Reese agreed, inhaling the bitter scent of the black-as-tar coffee Ben liked to drink.

  “Come on, you gotta be positive! You’re totally gonna land that monster tuna you’ve been dreaming about. Am I right?”

  Reese looked at Ben over the rim of the coffee cup as he sipped the scalding hot liquid. “I think you dropped your pom-pom.”

  “There’s my two top dogs!” Eddie Morenez, their regional VP of sales said, beaming from the transom of the Charming Betty. The luxury boat TechSafe had chartered for the four-day fishing trip rocked gently at her moorings, gleaming in the weak light of dawn.

  Behind him, Jimmy, Eddie’s favorite bootlicker, crossed his thick arms and frowned. In the dim light, he looked ridiculous in his Oakleys, but that was Jimmy—he was always just a little cooler than everyone else.

  “You two related?” asked Reese as Ben accepted Eddie’s hand and climbed aboard.

  Jimmy followed Eddie’s lead and reached down to help Reese. He effortlessly hauled Reese aboard.

  Eddie laughed. “Related? What?”

  “Ignore him,” Ben said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Reese thinks we’re too enthusiastic for this early in the morning.”

  Eddie guffawed, his trademarked gut-slapping, good-ol’-boy belly buster that had won over more clients than any sales rep in company history. It was part of the reason why he was in charge of TechSafe’s entire sales force now. Jimmy resumed his position just over his boss’s shoulder, crossed his arms, and frowned again.

  “Dude,” Ben said to Jimmy. “Lighten up.”

  Jimmy grunted. “I’m just doin’ what I’m told.”

  “How old are you?” asked Reese under his breath. Jimmy was Eddie’s go-fer. He was always sending the huge sales rep to fetch coffee, pick up lunch, drop off dry-cleaning—whatever silly errand the big important boss didn’t have time to handle, he pawned off on Jimmy. And the big galoot never complained.

  Thankfully, a few of the other regional winners had arrived and Eddie turned his attention to them, shouting greetings and welcoming them aboard for the second day of the company sponsored fishing trip for top performers. It was a new tactic the company was trying—team building—rather than handing out wads of bonus money.

  “Go on, help the others,” Eddie muttered. Jimmy dutifully stepped up and helped the rest of the winners climb aboard, just as surly as he had been with Reese.

  “Hey, hey! There they are!” Eddie called out, his arms spread wide to welcome the next arrivals aboard the boat.

  Reese narrowed his eyes at the fake enthusiasm and rah-rah spirit that Eddie always effused. He turned away and followed Ben toward the front of the boat, passing under the flying bridge. Two crew members sweated away up on the bridge, securing fishing gear and readying the boat for another long day on the open water.

  They passed through the main bridge, where the captain fussed with the fancy touchscreen control boards positioned in front of the ship’s wheel. He looked up and grinned at them, then went back to his pre-launch checklist. The radio squawked with traffic from the dozen other deep-sea boats preparing to leave port that morning. The sky looked clear, but with a cold front bearing down hard from the west, most captains wanted to be offshore rather than in transit when it hit. Charter boats didn’t make any money when they were docked.

  Reese stared west. He’d give anything to be on his sailboat, preparing to leave port. He’d never been a fan of motor yachts.

  Ben and Reese exited the bridge out the front opening and found seats near the bow. They sat back against the thick cushions, relaxing while the rest of the group gathered at the dock and embarked.

  Reese had to admit, leaving port on a motor yacht was a lot less stressful than on his small sailboat. There were no sails to trim and prepare, no lines to double-check. Just fire up the motors, cast off, and away you go.

  It was ironic, he mused, sipping his coffee. He valued his time on the sailboat because out on the water with the wind in his hair, he had time to think. He scoffed at motor cruisers, because they were constantly fiddling with engines and the roar of those same engines made it hard to have any peace and quiet, even in your own head.

  Yet, before casting off, Reese discovered it was the motor yacht that allow
ed him time to think and relax. He grinned at his philosophic attitude and took another drink of Ben’s slap-you-in-the-face coffee.

  “You see the news?” Ben asked casually.

  “Nope,” Reese muttered, feeling like he could go back to sleep.

  He stared out over the still water, watching a large luxury yacht at anchor across the bay. The thing was a massive, sleek slab of white, spotted by black windows and portholes. Probably a hundred-footer. That thing would be like a floating apartment building.

  Ben shook his head. “Some volcano erupted over in Africa. They got a video of a town blown apart or something…”

  Reese’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He knew that was going to happen as soon as Ben had said ‘volcano.’ His wife, Cami, was an incurable prepper and seemed to wait breathlessly for disaster. It was a harmless hobby for her, he supposed. She was an experienced, licensed hunting guide, so she knew it was smart to be ready for emergencies, and the more she prepared, the safer she was in the woods. That helped him stop worrying. Well, a little.

  He glanced at the screen. “Cami,” he told Ben. The message was a heads up that a volcano off the coast of Africa had blown its top. He sighed and tapped out a reply, asking why it mattered. It had to be 3,000 miles away.

  “And good morning to you, too,” he muttered, unable to hide his grin. His wife was the most direct woman he’d ever met. When she had something to say, she didn’t let pleasantries get in the way, even with her husband.

  His phone rang a moment later. “Hey, you,” he said, glancing at Ben with an apologetic shrug. Reese stood and moved to the bow, looking down at the water swirling around the front of the boat.

  “Reese, baby, listen to me—” his wife began.

  “Cami, it’s like 5 o’clock in the morning—what are you doing up?”

  “You know I don’t sleep well when you’re not here,” she answered in that soft Carolina Lowcountry drawl that made his knees weak. “I called because I’m worried about you. Remember when I told you about the Canary Islands...?”

  Reese frowned, scratching his head. “The super tidal wave?”

  “Megatsunami,” Cami corrected. “There’s all kinds of conflicting info out there right now—no one really knows what’s going on, but I think it’s gonna be bad.”

  “Yeah, Ben said something about a town being blown apart when it erupted…”

  Cami sighed. “I know, it’s horrible…there were a bunch of tourists and hikers. It’s a very scenic spot. But that’s not what I’m worried about. Those poor people are beyond help,” she said, her voice tight. “If I’m right, this is going to be bad for a lot of people. I can’t stop thinking about you out there on the water...”

  Reese sighed and looked up at the brightening, crystal clear sky. It was going to be a gorgeous August morning. The last thing he wanted to do was worry over one of Cami’s paranoid theories. “And if you’re wrong?”

  She didn’t speak for a moment, though he could see her in his mind’s eye, chewing on her lip like she did when she was worried, but unable to provide a good enough reason for being worried. “If I’m wrong,” she admitted quietly, “then nothing happens.”

  “And if I leave this trip, on a hunch,” he said pointedly, “what’s that going to do for my chances at hitting VP anytime soon?” Reese shook his head. “Cami...”

  “Hey, we’re casting off,” Ben warned. The boat was filling up and the background noise increased proportionately. The deck shuddered and the four outboards rumbled to life.

  “Cami, listen honey—we’re leaving the dock,” Reese said, raising his voice over the noise. “I gotta go, okay? Give my love to Amber—I’ll call you when I get back to shore.”

  “Reese, I’m right about this,” Cami begged, her voice rising.

  “If something happens, we’ll be out on the open water. Isn’t that safer than being on shore?”

  “Well...” Cami began. “Yes, but—“

  Reese laughed. “Then don’t worry. I’ll catch a big tuna and ship the steaks back to you. Love you!”

  She said something in reply, but he couldn’t hear her—the engines had increased to a throaty roar as the boat pulled away from the dock. Reese hit ‘end call’ and lowered the phone with a sigh.

  The phone buzzed again before he could even get it in his pocket. A glance at the screen told him she’d sent another text message. It wasn’t a final salvo in their argument, just a simple link. He opened the messaging app and clicked the link, waving Ben off and signaling he needed a minute.

  “What was that about?” asked Ben when Reese looked up a moment later.

  “Oh, Cami’s all worked up over that volcano.”

  “Yeah? Why?” asked Ben, leaning forward in his seat.

  Reese looked at him for a moment. “Uh...she’s worried about a tidal wave.”

  “Tsunami,” Ben said, nodding. “Yeah, they mentioned that on the news.”

  “So I hear,” Reese replied, taking his seat. He shrugged. “I dunno. Seems a bit far fetched. I mean, she gets worked up over stuff, and I usually go along with it, because she’s pretty much right.”

  “But not this time?”

  Reese glanced at Ben out of the corner of his eye, unwilling to explain to even his friend about the depth of Cami’s preparedness. She’d drilled into Reese’s head for years and years about the need for operational security—to keep their stockpiles and supplies secret from everyone, even close friends and family.

  “Eh, I dunno.”

  Ben wasn’t so easily dissuaded. “So, she’s thinking some big tsunami got started over there...got us in its sights, right?”

  “Pretty much,” Reese said over the rim of his coffee cup.

  Ben was quiet for a long moment. “Well, I don’t really know anything about it, but I do know that I’ve heard ‘tsunami’ tossed around by the media already.”

  “It’s probably real—Cami’s usually not that far off. But I bet it’ll just hit Africa or Europe or something. And it probably won’t be really bad—not like that big one in Indonesia. Remember that?”

  “That was nasty,” Ben replied with a somber nod. “Or even the one in Japan that took out that nuke plant.”

  “Either way, what can we do about it, right?” asked Reese.

  “Well, out here, probably not a lot. But, if it’s real, I can’t imagine we’d stay out for long. They’d want to get everyone back to shore...” Ben said, his voice sounding like he was trying to reassure himself.

  “I’m not too worried,” Reese said, slurping at the coffee. “If we’re out at sea, the wave will be pretty small, actually. Those things only get dangerous when they get close to shore.” Reese grinned, imagining Cami’s delight at his wealth of knowledge about her pet apocalypse subject.

  Despite his aloof stance on most of her worries, Reese did pay attention. He didn’t subscribe to the nuclear EMP theory of the end of the world. Reese believed it would be a pandemic that did humanity in, but he had to admit, a big tsunami could sure do a lot of damage. Although, if you were far enough from the coast you likely wouldn’t even know anything was wrong...

  They were quiet for a moment, so Reese looked down at his phone. Whatever link Cami had sent him was taking forever to load. Reese felt the deck shift under his feet—he recognized that movement. They were pulling into the channel and hitting slightly rougher water.

  “Whatcha got?” Ben asked, leaning over to see Reese’s phone.

  Reese grunted. “Whatever it is, it’s really slow,” he muttered, pocketing the phone. If there was a real tsunami emergency because of some volcano, he had to believe the Coast Guard would be all over it. He told himself again there would be plenty of warning.

  Reese watched the shoreline drift past. Seeing all the planes in the sky, the cars on roads, the buildings, the streetlights, the sheer mass of human industry and engineering, and all the technology that stood behind it...he felt a comforting weight settle on his shoulders. A simple wave—no matter how big—
couldn’t take out all of that. Indonesia and Japan had been hit hard in recent memory, but that was over there, not America.

  They’d have plenty of warning.

  The more he thought about it, though, the more Reese convinced himself not to worry. How could a volcano thousands of miles away create a wave that might hit Boston? It was possible, he mused...but Cami herself said lots of conflicting information was already floating around.

  The truth was, no one really knew anything yet. And that would have to be good enough. He rolled his neck and made up his mind to focus on the fishing. He was a shoo-in to get the promotion...as long as he didn’t screw something up.

  “Alright everyone, huddle up!” Eddie called in his gravelly voice. He stood in the middle of the deck with his arms wide, calling the unwashed masses to hear the latest sermon. He was an okay guy, Reese supposed, but the man wore his ‘I’m the greatest’ act like a bad suit—all the time.

  Reese and Ben shuffled over to the others as the captain turned the boat to starboard and pointed them toward open water and adventure.

  As Eddie rambled on about their epic sales performances last year, Reese couldn’t help but go back to Cami’s warning and replay it in his mind again. He didn’t like the word mega-tsunami at all. And it wasn’t like she was wrong all that often—he’d never seen someone predict snow and thunderstorms as accurately as his wife.

  Ben slapped him on the back. “Tsunami or no tsunami, open water, here we come!”

  Reese glanced over his shoulder at the receding shoreline. Well, whatever had happened over in Africa, it was pretty much out of his hands.

  He grinned. May as well enjoy the trip and try to land that monster tuna.