Free The Tsunami Countdown by Boyd Morrison Page A

sent out earlier?”
    “Sure did. What’s the problem? Are you upgrading it?”
    “Yes. We’ve lost contact with Christmas Island.”
    “You mean the tide gauge?”
    “No, I mean the whole island, including the tide gauge.”
    “When?”
    “The tide gauge was supposed to give us a reading over thirty minutes ago. Since then, we haven’t been able to get in touch
     with anyone on the island.” Kai took a deep breath. “We think it may have been wiped out by a tsunami.”
    There was a pause at the other end of the line.
    “Okay,” Renfro finally said. “Give me one minute. Then I’ll call you back. I’m going to try to get in touch with the vice
     director.”
    Kai hung up the phone and told Brad and Reggie what Renfro said.
    “What do we do now?” Brad said.
    Reggie perked up as if he just remembered something. “My God!”
    “What?” Kai said.
    “There’s a team of scientists on Johnston Island.”
    “But I thought it was abandoned,” said Brad. “There was an article in the paper about the chemical weapons disposal facility
     being shut down in 2004. Now it’s a nature sanctuary or something.”
    Johnston Island, a tiny coral atoll like Christmas Island, was only about twice the size of Central Park. Until 2001, it served
     as the United States’ primary disposal facility for chemical weapons, but fortunately it had incinerated its last bomb. If
     this tsunami had happened before then, they might have faced the additional specter of having thousands of canisters of the
     deadliest chemicals known to man washed out to sea. That was one of the few things Kai felt relieved about at that moment.
    The other good news was that, now that the facility was shut down, the thirteen hundred people who manned the station had
     packed up for good, with the last of themhaving left in 2004. Since then, it had been operated by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service as a wildlife preserve.
    “How do you know someone’s there?” Kai said, snatching the map of Johnston Island from its bin and unfurling it on a table.
    “I wanted someone to check the tide gauge there because we’ve been having intermittent signal problems,” Reggie said. “Alvin
     Peters over at U.S. Fish and Wildlife said a team was there for a month doing observational studies of turtle nesting on the
     island and that they could check on the equipment for me. Even gave me their sat phone number.”
    A quick scan of the map showed that the maximum elevation on the island was no more than forty-four feet, not high enough
     to ensure protection from a large tsunami. Kai didn’t know the state of the buildings there or whether they would be able
     to stand up to the force of a tsunami. The only truly safe place was out at sea in deep water. Thank God the scientists on
     the island had a phone.
    “They only have ten minutes,” Kai said. “Call them right now. Let’s hope they have a boat.”
    As Reggie ran to his cubicle to get the number and make the call, the office phone rang. It was Brian Renfro.
    “I couldn’t get in touch with the vice director,” he said, “but I just got your tsunami warning, so I’m going to follow standard
     procedure. We’re trying to contact the governornow. The sirens will go off in a minute, and then I’ll start broadcasting our standard tsunami warning message on the EAS.
     Call me back if you get any new information. Especially if it’s a false alarm.” With that, he hung up.
    “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