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Now she walked down the street in a sopping-wet black T-shirt and matching underwear, and set against the chaos around her, it might not be a big deal.
Still.
With dawn spilling over the city, the smoke had lifted, revealing the still-smoldering fires of a couple buildings along the boardwalk.
The bank. And a local restaurant, which had probably been the source of the blaze.
No, the source of the blaze was the landslide from Cumbre de Luz, a tumble of black lava rock, trees, and dirt that skidded down the mountain, impossibly avoiding the monastery and cascading in a lethal strip right into Esperanza and all the way to the ocean.
It had somehow missed an apartment building, taken out a couple homes, obliterated the buildings at the boardwalk, and plunged into the ocean.
Locals fought the fires with water and foam, a motley volunteer fire department spraying ocean water onto the blaze. Soot and smoke tinged Tia’s skin, adding to her sense of griminess.
Or could be that was a byproduct of the tragedy that maybe, just maybe, she’d been a part of creating. “What happened here?”
She shouldn’t have bought into Ethan’s crazy treasure-hunting story.
“Stop trying so hard.”
Yes, but if she didn’t try, who would?
“Earthquake,” said Doyle, and took off his shirt, a long-sleeve, wringing out the lightweight nylon. Of course, that left him bare-chested, and who knew Mr. Humanitarian Aid had washboard abs? She should have guessed that, however, given the time she’d spent leaning against him as they climbed out of the mountain, into the water.
She could still feel his breath on her neck, hear the tiny grunts as he lowered them down. Quiet, strong, reliable.
And she’d nearly lost him to the waves.
“Just wrap it around your waist,” Doyle said, pulling her away from the terrible moment when he’d gone under and let go of the tether between them.
She took the shirt and tied the arms around her waist, and at least now she had a back bumper.
No one would notice her anyway with the sirens sounding, the crowds watching the fires burn, and a makeshift field hospital setting up on the beach. It seemed the entire town had emptied out and gathered in the harbor, emerging from the rubble to assess their trauma.
An ambulance sat at the curb, lights flashing, and she spotted Dr. Greg Scott, along with a few of Declan’s American guests, helping people sitting with gauze held to various body parts—foreheads, arms, legs.
She shot another glance up the mountain to the orphanage. “I can’t believe the mountain came down.” Smoke filtered through the air, and she coughed, her lungs burning. “We should get up to the clinic.”
“I’ll try to find us a ride,” said Doyle, lifting his hand to someone.
She followed his gaze and spotted Declan jogging over to them through the sand. He wore a white button-down, grimy now and rolled up at the sleeves, a pair of shorts, and dock shoes. Smoke and grime layered his face, his jaw hard, his eyes reddened.
Behind him, Austen looked up from where she crouched next to a mother with a young child, holding his arm as if it might be broken.
Doyle veered off the boardwalk, onto the beach. “Declan.” He held out his hand, and Declan grasped it, added a slap on his arm.
“We’ve all been crazy worried.” He glanced back, and Austen had gotten up to join them.
“Long story. We were in the mountain when it exploded. Spent the night at sea, so that was fun. Austen.” He hugged his sister, and Declan turned to Tia, put a hand on her shoulder.
“You probably need to get checked out, make sure you don’t have any effects from being down so long with reduced air.”
“I’m fine,” she said, and of course punctuated that with a cough.Still.“Have the kids shown up?”
He shook his head. “Not that I know of. I was able to get ahold of the security team—they say all the kids on campus are safe. And Anita just got here to help and confirmed.”
“What happened?” This from Doyle.
“Dunno. We were headed back to the house when we heard the thunder. The slide barely missed us.” He turned to the mountain. “Seismic activity? We’re lucky it didn’t collapse more of the mountain. As it is, there are still people missing from the higher neighborhoods. I reached out to a Red Cross SAR team from the States that does some international work—they’re on their way. Let’s get you two checked out.”