Chapter 1 - Aftermath

The lone road to Valdez offered a slow, meandering journey in the pre-dawn haze. Sand and salt remained on the road since the last attempt to clear heavy snow, adding to the mini-landslides which encroached from abruptly carved hillsides onto the broken pavement. New tires regularly flung little pebbles into the wheel-wells, making the tink-tink that punctuated the heavy silence of the occupants inside the rental car.

Not an hour after sunrise, the 1963 Buick Riviera crept to a stop facing a wall of muddy snow and debris. Toppled cars, sections of buildings, out-of-place rowboats, and other rubble glistened in the mounds. It looked as though a giant child had shoved all of its playthings into piles.

Ben stared at the aftermath, heaved a sigh, and turned off the motor. “We’ll have to walk the last block.” 

He trudged around the front of the car, dragging his fingers, leaving streaks of miniature Diplomat Blue rivers cutting through the grit on the hood. He opened the door for his wife, Gloria, who offered a manicured hand to her husband. A smile played on the cherry-red lips that matched her fingernails, expecting a compliment or term of affection. When Ben blankly turned to open the back door for Grandpa, she huffed a cloud of fog into the chilly air and pulled a pair of soft kidskin gloves from her purse to wave the vapor away from her face.

Gloria scowled at the surroundings. “I don’t see how an earthquake could make all of this mess.”

“It wasn’t the earthquake,” replied Ben. “It was the tidal wave.”

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