Chapter 97

Saddle Road, Hawai‘i

Sergeant Matthew Iona was driving the last Caterpillar 375 Excavator near Cinder Cone Road, closer to Mauna Loa than Mauna Kea, south of the Saddle Road area.

They were doing new digging here now that they'd seen the direction the lava was taking. The lava had surprised even the scientists, according to Colonel Briggs, by suddenly pouring from radial vents close to the base of Mauna Loa on its eastern side.

A new perimeter was needed. Briggs had said they had the same deadline they always had with General Rivers: "He wants the new holes in the ground five minutes ago," Briggs told Iona.

Iona had become Briggs's man on the ground. Briggs had first designated him to work as closely as possible with Dr. MacGregor and Rebecca Cruz—not just work with them but keep eyes on them. Iona was happy to do it, even if he'd occasionally felt like he was spying. He was always looking for ways to make himself indispensable to the colonel. An added benefit to Colonel Briggs was that Iona had grown up working on road crews in Hilo. He hadn't been involved with digging like this for a while, but he assured the colonel that he still knew how to do it.

Tonight, he was acting as a foreman for this small army crew, who knew the lava from the vents was headed their way. As soon as they finished, a line of explosives set by Cruz Demolition would be detonated, and that would—hopefully—redirect the lava flow into the new trenches and the one lake to the east of Cinder Cone Road that had, almost miraculously, been dug tonight.

The bulldozers from the Hilo construction companies were gone for now. It was just Iona and his excavator and two army bulldozers, all of them basically trying to make one more fork in the road.

They had seen the lava coming closer from the south, but then it seemed to blessedly veer off, disappearing into the cloud of ash and smoke that had made breathing increasingly difficult out here.

They were about to pack it in when Colonel Briggs called Iona. He was already shouting.

"Get out of there now, Iona! The lava has picked up speed in the last fifteen minutes!"

Then: "I never should have sent you over there!"

Iona said, "I thought the lava had split off—"

"Son, I don't care what you thought! Turn the fuck around and haul ass!"

Iona looked in the Caterpillar's rearview mirror.

There it was.

The orange-red streak, the only color in the darkness, had suddenly appeared just a few hundred yards away.

It was speeding at them like a lit fuse.

Or a bullet.

Sergeant Matthew Iona didn't hesitate. He jumped out of his cab with the bullhorn he'd been using to direct the others and pointed at the lava now lighting up the sky overhead. The two bulldozers were already moving out, the other excavator right behind them.

Iona jumped back in his excavator's cab.

He knew he didn't have much time to get the hell out. He gunned the engine. He was on a curve, and as he turned the wheel, the ground shook, hard, the first significant tremor since the eruption in the morning. Then another tremor hit, bigger than the one before.

The excavator tilted and went into a skid.

The brakes did nothing as the truck began to slip sideways into the eight-foot-deep trench he'd just helped dig. Iona was thrown hard against the steering wheel; he felt his ribs crack. The pain shot everywhere, like foot-long splinters.

Then he was pinned against the door.

The passenger door was too far away to reach. Every time he moved his right arm, the pain from his fractured ribs shot through him.

He had no way of knowing if his buddies in the vehicles ahead had seen what happened.

Somehow, he managed to get his window open. He caught his breath and felt he had a chance. He pumped the brakes again. And again.

The last thing he saw was the river of lava flowing right at him.

Coming way too fast.

Rolling fire, sparks and ash, screaming thunder.