JOHN ATKINS ALSO SAW THE LIGHTS. THEY TOOK his mind off his disturbing conversation with Guy Thompson. The pulsing colors lit up the windows of Lauren’s bait-and-tackle shop, where he and Elizabeth sat near a propane space heater, trying to get the aching chill out of their bones.
The dancing lights arched across the horizon, or moved in zigzag bands of blue, pale white, and orange.
Atkins explained the phenomenon to Lauren. Rarely seen and largely a mystery, the lights were associated with earthquakes. They were possibly caused by polarized electricity in near-surface rocks or by electrical charges in the air. No one was sure. Atkins couldn’t believe the dazzling intensity of the colors. What he’d seen a few nights earlier on that farm near Mayfield didn’t compare to this.
The lights shimmered in brilliant, iridescent waves that shot across the sky in long, streaming bands of color.
The lake was boiling, the waves crashing over the dock and pier, which rode up and down on floating steel drums. The cables groaned loudly. Lauren worried the dock was going to pull apart.
“How much time do we have?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Atkins said, glancing at Elizabeth. If Prable was correct in his analysis, maybe only a few hours. But he still wasn’t convinced that Prable had it right. The effects of solar disturbances and tidal pulls on the earth’s crust had been debated for years—without any clear-cut result. “Maybe we’ll have a better idea…”
Lauren angrily cut him off. “What good are you people? You’re supposed to be experts on earthquakes, but you can’t tell me whether we’re in danger, or how much time we’ve got left. I’ve got two parents living near Paducah. If the dam goes and all that water hits the Ohio, that city’s going to be wiped out. We need to warn them.”
“She’s right,” Elizabeth said. “We’ve got to assume a major quake is imminent.”
Atkins agreed. By training, geologists were reluctant to make predictions about earthquakes. It was so easy to be wrong, and mistakes could have deadly consequences. But this wasn’t any time to be overly cautious. He’d seen the cracks in that dam.
“Assuming Prable’s right, and Guy’s crunched the right numbers, we’ve got maybe four or five hours,” he said.
“Can you call the sheriff?” Elizabeth asked Lauren. “Get him out here. Tell him what’s going on.”
“You bet I can,” she said eagerly. “He’s an old friend. He’ll come.” Once they’d made a decision to do something, anything, she immediately felt better.
Atkins wanted to hurry back to Mayfield and get the equipment in the Explorer. They needed to set up seismographs and other instruments. He wanted to be ready. If a quake hit, that data would be vital.
“How are we going to get back?” Elizabeth asked. She’d left her car in Mayfield.
“Take my Blazer,” Lauren said. “I’ve got a pickup I keep down here at the marina. After what you did, pulling me out of the water, it’s the least I can do.” She was just starting to get the warmth back in her legs.
Elizabeth glanced out a window at the lake. She opened the blinds for a better look. Still not trusting her eyes, she asked Lauren if she had a pair of binoculars.
Atkins didn’t need binoculars. He could see the strange glow in the water with his naked eyes. The murky green light appeared to be coming from the depths. It was as if bonfires were burning far below the surface.
“What… is… that?” Elizabeth asked.
Atkins shook his head. “It might be a strong electromagnetic charge emanating from some great depth,” he said. “Or maybe escaping gas or heat.” He frowned. Earthquake lights were one thing. The bizarre glow in the water was even more baffling. He admitted he didn’t have a clue.