Chapter 1
Before The Great Dawn
The morning was crisp with just a little chill flowing over the calm, glassy water of the Mayuyama Lagoon, tucked just off the shore near Shimabara City in Southwest Japan. It was between the mainland and a small, but one of the largest outlying islands, less than a mile from shore.
It was easy to troll for fish in this wide lagoon channel, sheltered from the wind. It also had places tucked away in small inlets to nurture oyster beds, secret treasures for those with patience. For those farming the oysters, the Akoya pearls were considered the most classic, cultured pearls in the world. China attempted to duplicate their luster but never could create the brilliance like the Japanese. A few families kept to the old ways of diving on them without using suspended rafts or checking water temperatures in controlled environments. Others used wooden stakes hung upside down and side-by-side from the surface of more protected habitats, normally to a depth of about 20 feet. The traditional Mayuyuma coast residents kept to their old diving ways and traditions—they were the true purists. One such family was the Nakada family.
Tokoa Nakada lived with a beach-house view of these islands that dotted the coast. Above him, towered the thickly domed volcano, Unzen. Unzen dominated the Shimabara Peninsula of Kyushu. The last time it erupted, it triggered a large-scale collapse of an old lava dome that caused a dry avalanche and a tsunami that took 15,000 lives. The area had been stable for years, but the tectonic setting was shrouded by the Chijiwa Fault, which ran from near Shimabara City west to the north of Chijiwa Bay. It made this area suspect and carefully watched. This made it even stranger when there was a new nuclear plant built not far from the base of Mt. Fugen outside of Shimabara. This was done over the shouts and protests of the Shimabara Earthquake and Volcano Observatory at Kyusha University.
Tokoa knew that the lagoon water was still warm in spite of winter coming. It was a comfortable bath-water-perfect temperature—great for a final dive on his favorite oyster bed. He slipped quietly into his daughter's room and nudged her awake. He tiptoed while trying not to disturb his wife's sleep. Over and over again—he kept saying, "Just one more dive. Just one more."
Sal awoke excited over her last dive. She was only 17, and this was her final week at home before going to live with her aunt in Nashville, an emergency room doctor working at Vanderbilt Hospital. She knew that until she finished her schooling this would be her last father-daughter outing for a long time. They both wanted to harvest some large pearls from some third generation oysters that they hadn't disturbed for a long time—a way of doing something together to buy Mom a going-away present.
Takoa watched his little girl stumbling out of the side of the small cottage. With a jolt, he squinted his eyes together when she let the screen door slam back into the doorframe.
"Sal!" he hissed, "keep it down, not so loud. You'll wake Mom."
They moved quietly to the beach with Sal chewing hungrily on a piece of coconut and a bite of pineapple while throwing her oyster baskets and some large lines into the boat. She was tall, five-six, almost six inches taller than her dad. She was on the local high school swim team and had thought about going Olympic, but she saw the exhaustive things it did to some of her friends who tried. She gave it up for more serious studies, the languages, and pursuing a communications major. Why else go to Nashville?
Her single aunt, Nikki, lived near Centennial Park and Vanderbilt, but even Nikki suggested MTSU as her communications college. Everyone in Japan talked like it was Yale or Harvard, to those in Murfreesboro it was, but it was a prideful opinionated prejudice, although not far from being the truth, a good communication school none the less. Also, it was one of the few colleges still open. Their state support and tuition rivaled the private schools, which closed years ago because of the wrecked American economy. She had already braced herself for dorm living. She would stay with Nikki only until she got settled. The gasoline shortage made it almost impossible to drive anywhere unless you were practically wealthy—not very many of those around anymore.
"Papa, Yokomi is already out fishing, look."
She pointed to Tokoa's brother briskly moving his 20-foot tinny with a 65 hp motor at full-throttle while working his way out of the lagoon and over to the coral heads on the south end of the largest island. He would pull to a brown coral head, set an anchor, and gather his bait for bigger fish past the near breakwaters and directly in the ocean channel.
They saw Yokomi throwing cast after cast around the coral, hauling in grunts, yellow tails, porgys; and with what conch he had left, he watched as several trigger fish competed for the same bait but hauling in only one.
He laughed, "Stupid fish. Can't wait to be eaten or bait, stupid fish."
After getting more than 100 baitfish, he started cutting them up and throwing them into the chop pail.
"Papa, how far is he going today?" Her keen eyes noticed that he was getting more than the usual bait. She figured the calm waters were enticing him to go out farther and deeper today.
"I suppose just past the channel away from all the traffic. We'll be able to see him riding the swells from our spot."
He breathed deeply as he talked while soaking up the morning quiet and watching his beautiful Sal putting on her diving weights. He threw her favorite diving flippers into the boat beside her and made a grunting lunge that pushed their 15-foot flat-bottomed skiff out into the gently lapping surf. The wooden planks creaked, moaned, and gave-to while letting him slide it easily into the nearby shallows. He and his father built it years ago, and Sal first named it as her birthday gift when she was only ten. On both sides of the bow, in obvious un-artistic child's letters, were the hand-drawn words, "Miss Sal." He thought how excited she was when she finished her naming project, and he rubbed the letters on the starboard bow affectionately from the memories.
He thought how much she looked like his wife, Kia, when she was young, except so much taller. He was amazed what new nutrition did for the newest generation of Japanese children. They were all at least a half foot taller than their family, and many, over a foot.
Sal was perfect, he thought. Her height left her with all thighs and swimmer's legs with slightly muscled arms and exceptionally high sloping trap muscles that gave her neck and shoulders a graceful yet powerful look. She wore her hair cut to an ever-so-short crew, just above a shave. Tokoa criticized her for it for years but finally let her alone. She could have worse addictions than short hair. She was so naturally attractive that he doubted even a shaved head would distract from her striking good looks. He couldn't ask for a better diving hand, not even a son to dive with. Sal could hold her breath for over seven minutes and always came up with full baskets.
He looked with a frown at the Takimuaia Nuclear plant sitting parallel with his beach home. It was high up, he thought, too high up on Mt. Fugen. He had heard about the accidents at other facilities. They closed several others when they discovered leakage and even a cover-up to protect the management. Then, the same management built this one. He wondered if the radiation would ever hurt them. Why was something that deadly in the middle of his paradise? Wasn't Uzen enough? He thought, with the Japanese Islands having 28 active volcanoes, why was Japan playing Russian roulette with volcanoes and nuclear plants? It just didn't make sense, especially with of the 2011 earthquake-tsunami reactor accidents.
He rowed effortlessly towards the channel while feathering his oars gracefully without thinking or intent, with practiced, artful moves. He was still able to see his brother. His brother stopped at another coral head and set his anchor, then brought out his lunch basket. Yokomi knew exactly what he was doing. It was his tradition to eat first, then fish. He would sit for almost an hour enjoying the time alone. With eight kids at home, it was the only place he could get any peace and quiet. He turned and waved at Tokoa, and he waved back.
Sal perched herself expertly on the edge of the boat gunnels and dived over, plummeting down through the crystal, green-blue water. She kne
w every nook and cranny of this spot and had names for each nearby coral head. She even knew which moray eels hung out near which fissures and coral crevices. She'd feed some of them later if she had time. She went to almost 60 feet and rested her chest on the bottom with her back arched to steady herself. She could take in the quality of her oyster crop possibilities in seconds.
Takoa was waiting for the traditional I’m-okay jerk of the lines when he smelled something. It had been years since he had smelled anything like this. It was powerful and full of a rotten-egg stench.
"Sulfur!" he said out-loud.
He pulled on the rope four times in quick succession—the signal to return immediately. Sal watched the rope jerk while counting them, which was anchored to the bottom and only waved back at her dad, knowing he couldn't see her. She knew he didn't like her staying down long on the first dive—superstitious. He always told her to go down and come back quickly to loosen up.
He wanted to make sure sharks or sea snakes weren't near or the "old darkies," as he called them. They were the bigger barracuda that just came in from the deep. They hadn't picked up the bright reflections from the white sands and stayed with their deep hues and colors. They were always hungry and hoped for a snack from a fisherman's bait or their catches. They seldom attacked divers or swimmers unless they wore bright jewelry, which is exactly why he always warned her about them. She wore an exceptionally large, silver Saint Christopher that was handed down from her mom. They all wore it in defiance of the same "darkie" warnings. Only once was one of them injured, her great, great grandmother, and in this very same place. She had a long scar from the barracuda attack where a set of teeth practically ripped it from her throat. Upon first glance, it looked as if she was wearing a jagged necklace, and soon after it healed she decorated it colorfully for show.
Tokoa would stop their harvesting sometimes by throwing out baitfish on a long steel leader and catch a "darkie" to prove to the others what could happen to them. Before he'd get them into the boat, and in plain sight of the others, he'd pound their skulls in with a flat wooden mallet till its head popped. Sal doubted the others cared, but for some reason they always swam off after his theatrics. They'd eat the one they caught after they froze it solid for a couple days to avoid the deepwater poisons.
Sal moved away from the anchor line to look around for a minute before surfacing. She saw the oyster prizes she had marked in her mind like a road map, and her stomach fluttered with great pearl anticipation. Before returning to the line, still jerking furiously, she saw a series of bubbles coming from the sea floor. She circled them and watched as the sand seemed to be moving like a liquid porridge in a cooking kettle. She reached out, grabbed at one of the bubbles in fun, and almost gasped. It was scalding hot. She looked at her hand, mysteriously. She was so badly burned that blisters were already forming. She was shocked as she felt the water stinging her bare legs. She pulled her legs up and shot for the surface while trying to control her ascent but feeling the water biting at her with scalding currents and bubbles mixed with the colder ocean ones. She was frightened, especially when she saw thousands of bubbles following her. She was barely able to stay ahead of them. Finally, she left them safely behind while having outpaced them for a moment, then surfaced 20 feet from the boat.
"Papa, I'm burned! Papa! Papa! The water burned me!" she yelled, swimming in a panic and feeling the water starting to bite at her again.
"Get in Sal, get in, now! Hurry!" he yelled as she reached the side of the boat.
Tokoa grabbed and pulled her completely out of the water in one pull that landed her crossways over the boat gunnels but out of the water. He forcibly pushed her back into her seat without apologies and placed the oars back into the oarlocks. He pulled a sharp knife from his belt and cut the anchor line. He'd get it back some other day. He rowed with just less than panicked moves. They looked back and saw fish floating to the surface and writhing in deathlike movements—one was her favorite moray. A myriad of bubbles hit the surface, filling the air with a steamy putrid smell that stung their nostrils and looked like the coating of the morning fog.
"Papa, what is it?" she asked, seeing something in his face she had never seen before—fear.
"What's wrong, Papa?" she asked again.
He stopped for a moment and looked at his brother standing up in his boat. He could tell that the same thing was happening to him. He saw his brother put his hand in the water and pull it back waving his hand around in pain. As they watched him, the water under his brother lifted up under him as if it were a whale. It lifted him up over 15 feet, and then, dropped him down with a loud sucking sound—the boat was gone. A long ridge of water as far as the eye could see bumped up at the same time. They saw his brother's boat again upside down without him.
Tokoa knew exactly what happened. Magma was pushing the tectonic plates apart, and then, when cool water rushed into massive schisms created in the sea floor, it sucked all the water down into it like a drain in a bathtub. A small tsunami was instantly born with his brother part of it. A wash created by duplicate movements on the plates created a one-meter wave that started traveling out over 200 mph and would probably reach 500, but it would never be noticed by ships until it reached a shallower shore. It could reach 40 feet high. But, this one was just from a tremor, rocking the beachfront and shaking everything for up to a hundred miles away. It was just a little magma, just a little subduction, but just enough to catch his brother. It was just enough to make Tokoa start rowing furiously for land. He knew his brother was like those fish he saw floating on the surface—dead and boiled by the heat.
"Papa, what happened to Yokomi? Papa, we have to go save him. What happened?" She was frantic in concern and fear. She had never seen her dad acting like this.
"He's gone. Cooked like those fish. He was too close to the plates, those volcanic ridges. We can't help him, but we can help ourselves." Tokoa knew that his brother's boat and debris, including him, were probably over 20 miles from here traveling with the small tsunami. He'd be on a South Korean shore in less than an hour, whatever was left of him. Tokoa knew something else. Something bigger was going to happen.
He kept rowing and heard a voice within him just as he saw a stranger standing on the shore beside Kia. In his heart, he heard the clear message. Some would call this voice intuition, but he called it divine guidance. He heard it like hearing a voice of an old friend.
"Send Sal to Nashville, Tokoa. I need her there. Settle your debts, forgive the trespasses, cleanse your heart, and seek my peace."
He knew exactly who had spoken. God's voice confirmed his intuitive fears even more. God was saving Sal for something special, but preparing Tokoa and Kia for something quite different.
"Sal, you still have your airline tickets and passport, don't you?"
"Papa, you know I do. I just got them last week. I even have most my stuff packed. Why?" she asked. She cried softly but still didn't understand everything that just happened.
"I want you out of Japan before tonight. I'm sorry, little one, but you have to trust me on this. You've got to get out of here."
Sal responded in wrenching pain, "But Papa, I can stay one more week. Don't make me go so early, please. I don't understand. Tell me, please, what's going on?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I did. You'll have to trust me. If I'm wrong, we'll both laugh about this, and I'll make it up to you. Your mom and I have saved almost a 1000 dollars worth of silver for you to use once you're in Nashville. Also, we've been sending money to your aunt since the times in America and all over got bad. I thank the Lord that she's a doctor. Otherwise, she'd be on the streets like most of the people in the U.S. No matter what, whether you go to school or not; you've got to get off this island!"
"Something is more important than my schooling?"
"Yes, if I'm right, it's your life. Promise to go to church with little Nikki, will you? When we get home, I have a new Bible for you. Please, your salvation from the Lord is ve
ry important to me. Please consider giving your life to the Lord, won't you?"
Tokoa and Kia were one of the few believers in this village, but Sal hadn't followed their example yet. Nikki moved to the states to live in Nashville only five years earlier and was a believer too. He recently got an e-mail from her about going to The Lord's Chapel and how wonderful it all was.
"Oh, Papa, don't be so serious. Okay, okay, I'll think about this salvation thing. How's that? What will you tell Mom, Papa?"
"The truth, little dove, the truth."
"What will happen to you and Mom, Papa?" she asked, with tears streaming down her face while watching the shoreline fast approaching; and noticing, a very tall white man standing beside her mom. She could tell from her mom's face that she was sad and happy at the same time.
Sal was so upset that she jumped out of the boat before it got ten feet from shore, then thrashed through the shallows towards the beach. She ran past her mom and the stranger as she wailed in a bawl of uncontrollable tears. She reached her room, threw some packed luggage on the bed, and fell over it, then pounded her fists and kicked her feet in a fit of loud grief, anger, confusion, and frustration.
Tokoa pulled his boat up on the beach and slowly walked to his wife, then embraced her with a whisper in her ear, "Who's this guy?"
Before she could answer, the stranger did, "My name is Aaron. I've already told Kia about your brother and what you think you've discovered today. You're right, Tokoa. It's going to get cataclysmic, shortly. I know you're being obedient to our Lord's voice. That makes my job a lot easier. I'm just here to make sure Sal gets on that plane."
Tokoa instantly realized the stranger was an angel; and noticed, Kia giving a confirming "yes" nod. He couldn't miss Aaron's size. Aaron stood right at seven feet. Even though he was a "roundeyes," he was terribly large and powerful looking. Tokoa approached him as he would any other believer friend.
"Welcome to my home, Aaron. I guess we'll be seeing you in a much better place soon, won't we?" He reached up to Aaron, and they hugged in a brotherly squeeze. Kia rushed to their side and looked back at their cottage while hearing Sal wailing.
"This is so hard on her, Tokoa, Aaron," her lips quivered with emotion.
"I know," answered Aaron, "but the alternative is worse. She's very special. No matter what you think, every righteous seed you've planted will flourish in her."
To Tokoa that was the grandest news of all. His little Sal was going to come to the Lord. She was already special to the Lord. God was going to use her, and he knew it. “What a wonderful blessing this is,” he rejoiced to himself.
"In answer to your question, Tokoa, yes, shortly. Come visit with me when you get there, and I'll introduce you to some my favorite immortals."
"Is Jesus coming back soon, Aaron?" he asked nervously with his fingers crossed.
"Hasn't it always been soon? If I were a betting man, knowing what I know about what's going to take place here in Japan, I'd put all my money on that filly, wouldn't you?" Aaron turned as if he was going to walk away, then said, as he disappeared, "I'm going to church with a bunch of kids on God's Mountain--Sanctuary. I'll see you shortly."
"What do you think, Kia?" he asked while still holding her.
"I say we get her fanny up to the Kyushu Airport to get Sal to Tokyo National, then call our church friends for one last celebration. I guess by tomorrow we'll be what Aaron called one of those 'immortals,' won't we?" They both did a little dance in the sand and looked back together towards the cottage again.
Sal got up just before Aaron left and looked out. She saw this huge man talking and hugging her mom and dad, then he disappeared. She rubbed her eyes in disbelief, then watched as her mom and dad jumped and danced in circles on the beach.
Her only thought, "Why are they so happy? Are they glad to get rid of me?" She thought better of herself and grabbed at her luggage, then threw a canvas backpack over her shoulders and walked bravely towards the beach.
As she approached them, she started talking, "I don't understand," Sal commented tearfully, "but something within me says you're only trying to protect me from something very bad. I know that. I just don't want anything to happen to you. I love you so much." They all hugged this time.
Together, Tokoa and Kia said, "We're going to be just wonderful. Don't you worry about a thing. Yes, we are trying to protect you."
Tokoa broke the mood with fatherly logic, "We'll e-mail Nikki to meet you in Nashville. You just remember to think about the Lord every spare chance you get, okay?"
"Oh, Dad, there you go getting serious on me again. Wait, where did that big white guy go?"
"He said he was going to church with a bunch of kids?"
"Maybe he's from a wrestling camp, right?"
"Sure, Sal, sure," replied Tokoa, humoring her, and without another word except a trip to the wall safe and a reach for Sal's new Bible, they all ran for the van.
As they drove Sal to the airport, they heard sirens from the Nuclear Plant. Takoa spoke to himself, "They haven't seen anything yet."
By 10 a.m., they were walking through the airport towards her exit gate. The economy was so devastated that it was like an abandoned subway. Hardly a soul was around with only a handful of airlines even operated. She heard how hard it was in the States. The economy was turned upside down, and the nuclear attacks on Washington and New York years ago made it all worse. In spite of that, she hoped it was better now. It wasn't.
Chain Reaction
A Swedish geological observatory was located near the Ryukyu Islands. Argin Seward was in shock watching his spastic seismic readings, not believing what was happening. Some of his co-workers were on their knees praying, settling salvation matters. A couple, were thumbing furiously through their token Gideon Bibles, trying to find out how to settle salvation matters. Several were calling friends at home giving final farewells or asking them about salvation matters. Several more were trying to warn friends in Japan and Korea, knowing it wouldn't help. It would be all over in a matter hours, including their own observatory.
Argin shouted over his phone to his corporate headquarters, "This is Argin Seward! Yes, we got shaking, guys! We got tearing! We got subduction! The whole tectonic Eurasian Plate is shifting. We aren't talking inches; we're talking yards, hundreds of yards, miles in some cases. It's affecting them all, including the Arabian, African, and Indo-Australian plates. We've got trouble spelled with a big T!"
He continued, "If it continues at this rate, they'll have to use an underwater sonar to find Japan."
The tectonic plates sheared at full tilt about 2:30 p.m., rocking Japan. The earthquakes were greater than anything ever felt before. The Takimuaia Nuclear Plant sank 20 feet into the rock, right through the foundation. It listed to one side and started sliding down the mountain. Radioactive rods where thrown into the heavy water making the meltdown unstoppable. The first blast was on the order of a 5-psi thermal nuclear explosion traveling 160 miles per hour with the effect of 180 tons of shockwave and destroying everything it came against. Aso, Kirishima and Sakurajima volcanoes ignited at the same time, blowing their dormant domes
Japan wasn't finished yet. Nuclear sites all over Japan went to meltdown, jump-started by the eruptions of Fuji, Miyakejima, Izu-Oshima, Kusatsu-shirane, Asama, Bandai, Komagtake, Usu, Tokachidake, Akan, and Iwate, following the same patterns (shaking the volcanoes loose from dormant sleep and causing earth-shattering explosions.) Every nuclear site was affected: both the Katas, all seven of the Kashiwazaki Kariwas, all three of the Mihamas, all of the Ohis, the Takahmas, the Onagawas, the Sendais, the Himanes, and the Tokias, including isolated individual plants such as Shika, Tomari, Tsurga, and Monju FBR. The chain reaction continued—earthquake—volcanic eruption—meltdown.
Japan broke like an egg. It started as a shaking of buildings with slight tremors, then a roller coaster wave of earth and rock punched its way from the earth's cor
e sending a massive tidal wave of buildings, bridges, and parked vehicles with millions of its busy Monday inhabitants into 1000-foot spins upward, then violently down to earth again. The nuclear debris went skyward like a violent toxic fist. The meltdown pollution covered the sky in a coat of darkness. It sent the temperatures down below the freezing mark in a matter of minutes.
The combined blast of all the nuclear meltdowns was 20 psi, equating to a 720-ton shockwave and moving at 500 mph. It spread in all directions, including towards the South Korean coast. The shockwave hit the Korean Electric Power Corporation's nuclear reactor in Seoul and pushed the sides of the facility into a hump. This meltdown triggered other nuclear incidents up and down the coast of China and Russia. The coast of China disappeared, leaving 1000-foot drops 20 miles inland. Small islands that were peppered with coastal homes sank beneath the waves. Some islands were moved but intact from the severing, but everyone was poisoned by fallout or killed by the shockwaves.
The tectonic plates acted like giant whips moving through the other plates. A giant snake-like fuse was lit, and nothing could put it out. The first continental split tore apart Africa's Northern coast, severing Libya off into the ocean by itself. The Southern most tip of Italy fell away and ran it up against the Italian boot of Sicily. It moved five miles off the Italian coast finally breaking apart and sliding into a deep ocean trench.
In Mayayuma, when the fuse was first lit, Tokoa and Kia were in jubilant prayer with their believer friends. They sat around in a circle in the middle of the church floor while singing praise songs and waiting. Tokoa and Kia were confident that Sal was going to be safe. In fact, they figured she was already at Nikki's and would be sleeping in from her long trip. Nikki sent an e-mail saying she was going to stay home from church with her to make sure she got settled in right.
The church was full of excitement without fear. There was a peace that only the Lord could give. Those in the church felt what was left of their church shift to one side, and the nuclear blast sheared the walls into dust that dissolved them in a fiery heat and thrusted the dust of their bones into Unzen's molten lava below.
They had been right. Sal was safe and reached Nashville just before midnight on a redeye jet flight from Toyoko. Nikki greeted her in hugs, and they left for her apartment off Hillsboro Road, oblivious to events in Japan.