Suzuki answered his mobile phone. “Did you get authorization?”
“No, the CEO refused,” answered Yamada.
“Do they have any idea what is happening here?”
“I have explained.”
“What about hooking back up to the grid?”
“They have laid a new cable about three quarters of the way, but the prime
minister has decided to change the company. He thinks the current company is taking too
long.”
“Won’t that cause further delays?”
“Probably,” replied Yamada.
“Try again!” said Suzuki and hung up. He then went into the control room.
Kenichi looked up from the console. “Did we get authorization?”
“No, it was denied.”
“Do they understand the severity of–”
Suzuki held up his hand for him to stop. “There is much confusion at the
moment. Many orders, such as the evacuation orders, have been mixed up or relayed
wrongly.” He fixed Kenichi with an unwavering stare for few seconds and then left the
control room.
Kenichi sat there pondering Suzuki’s words. Does he want me to disregard the
order from the CEO and start injecting seawater?
Fifteen minutes later he was standing with the fire chief and his men, who again
were still not wearing protective gear. “Why aren’t your men wearing protective gear?”
“We asked for them but were told there weren’t enough to go around.”
“I will organize some for you,” replied Kenichi.
“Thank you.”
“Are the hoses hooked up?”
“Yes, ready to go.”
“Start the pumping,” Kenichi ordered.
Steam billowed off the molten fuel as seawater poured into the reactor vessels.
**
The truck raced through the tunnel; the driver’s foot nearly pedal to the metal.
“Why are you going to Ostuchi?” asked the driver, removing his sunglasses and
revealing his bloodshot eyes.
“I need to find my girlfriend,” replied Tomo, looking at the speedometer that read
130 kilometers per hour.
“Hope she’s all right. Lots dead in Otsuchi,” he said matter-of-factly.
Tomo noticed something in the driver’s voice. Something he couldn’t put his
finger on. “She doesn’t live near the harbor. She should be fine.”
“Doesn’t live near the harbor,” chortled the driver. “That tsunami went as far as
ten kilometers inland.”
A knot formed in Tomo’s stomach. “I’m sure she’s fine.”
“How do you know?” His question was almost a snarl.
Tomo’s temper flared and blood gushed into his face. “I don’t know. That’s why
I’m going there! Do you have a problem with that?”
The driver took off his cap, uncovering a mop of grey hair, and pulled out a
bottle of sake from his jacket pocket and took a swig. “She’s probably dead!” he barked.
“Dead like all the others!” He turned and looked at Tomo. “Who the fuck cares?” He took
another swig from the bottle and then offered it to Tomo.
Tomo shook his head. “You shouldn’t drink and drive.”
“Shouldn’t drink and drive!” scoffed the driver. “Shouldn’t live or die! Fuck
you!” He took another swig.
Tomo looked at the speedometer that read 150 kilometers per hour. “Slow down!
You’re driving too fast!”
The driver pressed the accelerator pedal down and took another gulp.
Tomo had the sudden realization that this man wanted to kill himself. He needed
to do something. “I’m sorry,” blurted Tomo!
The man’s foot eased off the accelerator slightly.
“Sorry for your pain, sorry for your loss.” Tomo’s tone was sincere.
The driver looked at Tomo and then burst into tears. “She was only ten years
old…the school was kilometers inland.” He took another gulp of sake.
Tomo took the bottle from the man’s hand.
“This won’t help,” Tomo said, putting the bottle on the floor.
The man stared ahead silently.
“What happened?” asked Tomo.
“The principle was away…the deputy.” His eyes narrowed. “The fucking deputy
principle was in charge and tried to take the children to the designated evacuation area.”
He paused and tears streamed down his face. “He…should have taken them up the hill
behind the school…almost all of them drowned.”
Tomo put his hand on the driver shoulder.
“I want…I want to die,” sobbed the driver.
The truck shot out of the tunnel.
“Watch out!” yelled Tomo.
It was too late; the truck hit the fallen tree, swerved wildly to the right, hit the
guardrail and bounced across the road; crashed into the other guardrail, jackknifed and
flipped over the side, rolling end over end down the hill.
**
Mackeller stood on the runway, his flight jacket zipped up against the icy gusts of wind.
Two soldiers leapt from the chopper and ran, crouched over to him and saluted.
Mackeller saluted back and then signaled for Riona and the paramedics to bring
his copilot over. The soldiers then transferred him onto a stretcher and loaded him
onboard.
“I would like you to accompany me,” Mackeller said to Riona.
“I can’t leave my duties,” she replied. “They need me here.”
He looked at her a long moment and then said. “Once the wind changes the
radiation will be here within an hour. You will be exposed.”
She smiled. “You shouldn’t be so worried. The government says it’s only a
small leak and there is nothing to worry about.”
He was astounded by the faith the Japanese people had in their government.
How could they believe the government when the facts said the opposite? But then he
thought his own people believed most of the propaganda that his own government sold
them. He had believed it enough to join the army. He sighed and said. “Very well, but if
you need to be evacuated later call me on this direct line.” He took out a card and handed it
to her.
She took the card and bowed.
They stood there staring at each other. Both wanted to say something, but neither
could bring the words to their lips. A tear spilled from Riona’s eye and Mackeller moved
closer and wiped it gently away with his thumb. She nestled her face in the palm of his
hand.
“I must go,” he said, removing his hand.
“Hai. Yes,” she replied.
He turned and jogged to the chopper.
**
It was almost dark by the time Yukino returned to the field. Her footprints had been
erased by the snowfall, but she knew exactly where the crevasse lay. She ran across the
snow, a coil of rope over her shoulder, towards the place she had left Taka. She stopped
and looked around, she was sure this was the place, but there was nothing. A gust of
wind blew up a flurry of snow and she shielded her face with her hands. Her eyes darted
to the woods Taka and her had left earlier that day. Without hesitation she ran back to the
woods. Once standing there she took her bearing and then slowly retraced her footsteps—
but there was nothing there. Suddenly, panic and fear wrapped around her; she dropped to
her knees and began digging desperately through the snow. Her fingers met earth and she
clawed the snow away and then slumped back on her heals, puffs of steam coming from
her panting breath. Her eyes stayed pinned on the crack in the earth, the crack that was
once a crevasse. “No!” she screamed hysterically. “No! Why did you take him?” Steam
gushed from her throat. “You can’t have him! Give him back!” Images of the hand
sticking out of the rubble, images of the woman’s face and Taka’s panic filled eyes
flashed through her mind like lightning scything the darkness. “Why?” she screamed
again and then collapsed onto the patch of dark earth. She dug her finger into the ground
and tried to wrench the crack open. “Give him back!” she screamed. “Give him back!”
Overcome with exhaustion she fell face down. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured, weeping
uncontrollably. “I shouldn’t have left you.” She rubbed the soil with her hand and then
kissed it. “I’m sorry, so sorry.” She lay there weeping as the sun slid below the horizon
and the cold shadow of death crept over her.