Page 64

Hawaiian Volcano Observatory, Hawai‘i

Time to eruption: 48 hours

Mac was working on his laptop while construction crews descended on Mauna Loa like an invading army of their own. Jenny came in and walked around his desk and put a hand on his shoulder. Mac looked at it, then up at her, and saw her smiling at him.

“We’re all scrambling here,” Mac said. “The general included.”

“And we might all be about to die no matter what we do and no matter how righteous we think our plan is,” Jenny said.

“You’re starting to sound like me,” Mac said.

“I get to say what I’m thinking sometimes, just like you,” she said. “And I’m allowed to be scared.”

Mac knew how tough Jenny was; he often complimented her on it. But now she looked like she was about to cry.

“Hey,” he said. “Take it easy.”

“You first,” she said.

They looked at each other until she made a quick motion with her hand, as if she were brushing away a tear. She started to say something, stopped herself, and left him sitting there.

He went to his social media accounts then and found a meme that showed lava flowing through a living room where J. P. Brett was standing like Moses parting the Red Sea, except he was stopping the lava.

He was about to call Brett and ask if he had anything to do with that when Betty Kilima, who’d given up her duties as librarian to run interference for Mac, gave a quick rap on his door and poked her head in.

“There’s a couple of people out in the lobby who want to speak with you,” Betty said.

“Tell them I’m busy.”

“They say they’re from the New York Times,” she said.

He called Rivers immediately and asked what he should do.

“What I would,” Rivers said. “Lie.”