“Probably ‘cause they’re more civilised here in the east.” suggested Heyes,  “Or more religious maybe.  Sunday is supposed to be the day of rest after all.”

“Maybe.” acknowledged Curry, “What’ya get?” he asked, nodding towards to wrapped package tucked under his arm.

“Around the World in Eighty Days.” Heyes told him.

“Around the world, in eighty days?” Curry raised his eyebrows. 

Heyes shrugged,  “The story is about a wealthy Englishman who bets his friends twenty thousand pounds that he can circle the globe in exactly eighty days.”

“That’s impossible.” scoffed Curry.

“Dunno.  It says he plans a route from London, via France, Suez, India, Hong Kong and Japan, on to San Franciso, across to New York and back to London. I guess, theoretically, it could be done…”

Curry thought about that for a moment and then shook his head,  “No way.”

“It’ll be interesting to find out if he makes it or not.” grinned Heyes.

Curry rolled his eyes. It all sounded nonsensical to him, but he knew Heyes was fascinated with that sort of thing and some of the things he’d learned, from his obsessive reading, had come in very handy at times, in getting them out of trouble, so he said nothing more about it.

They headed back to their hotel to wash up and get changed before going down to the hotel dining room for supper. 

Once they’d eaten, they headed to the tavern Curry had come across earlier.

“Wonder why they call it a tavern?" said Curry, “It seems just like a saloon to me.”

Heyes shrugged,  “Dunno.  Maybe they want to lure a wealthier clientele.  A tavern sounds way more highfalutin’ than a saloon.”

They headed to the bar, to get drinks, and surveyed their surroundings.  The building appeared to serve the same purpose as the saloons they were familiar with in the West.  Some people were eating, some just drinking at the bar, and a room at the back had music playing.  Women wandered about delivering drinks and chatting up the men and, at one end of the room, they spotted a poker game in progress.

Picking up their drinks they crossed to the table and sat in at the game.  The other players were reasonably adept, but Heyes soon got their measure and, before long, had amassed a decent sum of money in front of him. Curry, not quite as good a player as Heyes, was just about holding his own in the game.

It was late when they finally left the tavern, Heyes having won more than a hundred dollars and Curry just over thirty.  Heyes had hoped to begin reading his new book when they got back to the hotel but, having stayed so long at the tavern, he decided it was too late to start it now and promised himself to begin it tomorrow.

“Heyes?” Curry’s voice floated across to him after they climbed into bed and blew out the lamp.

“Hmm?”

“After we get the amnesty, would you like to live in a city like this?”

Heyes contemplated the question.  “Dunno.” he said presently, “It’s a nice city, but just a city, same as lots of others. Not sure I’d want to be in a city all the time.  I like the outdoor life.  Would you?” he questioned, wondering why Curry had asked.

“I’m not sure.  I do like the luxury we’ve enjoyed here, courtesy of the Calhoun’s, and it got me to thinking.  Like you, I like the outdoor life but, when we get older, will we still want to spend nights sleeping out on the ground under the stars?”

“Well, if we don’t, we can settle down somewhere. It don’t have to be in a big city.”

“I guess.  But, when we get the amnesty, we’re going to have to get jobs and live like regular folks.  It just seems to me that there’d be more choice of jobs in a big city like this one, and less chance of people knowing about our pasts.”

Heyes thought about that for a moment.

“That’s certainly something to consider.” he said presently, “We could always go to San Francisco. Soapy could no doubt find us work easily enough, if that’s what we decided we wanted to do. But, for the moment, I’m happy the way things are. When, if, we get the amnesty, we can think about it then.”

“I guess you’re right… G’night, Heyes.”

“’night, Kid.”

*    *    *

The following evening, after another day of exploring Charleston, Heyes and Curry ate an early supper before returning to the tavern they’d been to the previous night.

Heyes chose to sit in at the poker game but Curry opted not to, not having fared all that well the previous night, and instead said he would adjourn to the room where the musicians were playing, for a while.

“I’ll maybe sit in for a while later on.” he told Heyes.

“O.K.”  Heyes picked up his drink and headed over to the poker table.

Half of the players were the same ones as the previous night but the others were new.

He’d been playing for about an hour when Curry came back into the room, his arm around one of the waitresses.

Coming over to the table, he waited for a break in play before bending to Heyes’ ear.

“I’m just going upstairs, with Cloris.  Don’t know how long I’ll be.  If you’re not here when I get back I’ll see you back at the hotel.”

Heyes glanced across at Cloris, who gave him a smile.

“O.K.”

He watched as Cloris led him upstairs, before returning his attention to the game.

After another hour of play he’d won almost sixty dollars and decided to call it quits and head back to the hotel. He knew Curry wouldn’t be back for at least a couple more hours which would give him time to get started on the new book he’d bought.

Excusing himself from the table, he picked up his winnings and headed back to the hotel.

​

Back in their room, Heyes dropped his hat on the dresser, lit the lamp and, pulling off his boots and his jacket, picked up the book, settled himself on the bed, with a pillow propping him up in a semi-sitting position, and began to read, enjoying the rare chance to read without interruption.

He was soon engrossed in the story of inventor Phileas Fogg and his attempt to travel around the world in eighty days.

He had just begun Chapter four, where Fogg was about to depart on his challenge, when he suddenly became aware of feeling a little disorientated, akin to standing on the deck of a boat rocking at anchor on the water.  Before he had chance to consider the reason he began to hear a faint rumbling which then built into a loud crashing noise, like a dozen freight trains passing by at the same time.  Then, the room began to sway.

Dropping the book, Heyes looked around him in confusion as pictures fell off the walls and then all of the items on the dresser were flung to the floor, the wash basin smashing into pieces along with the water pitcher. At the window, the drapes began to swing like they were being blown by a strong wind.

“What the--?” he gasped, for once at a loss of what to do other than sit there and watch the chaos going on around him.

Plaster began to fall from the ceiling as the room began to jerk violently from side to side, the force of it pitching Heyes off the bed and onto the floor, hitting his forehead on the bedside cupboard as he did so, before it too toppled over.

Momentarily dazed, Heyes tried to get to his feet but found the floor moving so violently he couldn’t get off his knees without being tossed down again.

Suddenly, the bedroom window exploded sending glass fragments flying around the room, one of them hitting his cheek.

Throwing himself back down on the floor, he curled up in a foetal position and covered his head with his arms, in an attempt to protect himself, as pieces of the ceiling fell around and on him.

The noise was deafening now, and the room swaying and bucking so violently he was afraid that either the floor would give way, and he would fall down into the lobby, or else the ceiling would collapse and whatever furniture was in the room above him would fall through and crush him.

Then, as abruptly as it started, it was over.

Heyes remained where he was for several minutes, too shaken to move.  Then, gradually, he became aware of voices shouting and people screaming, to a background of falling masonry.

Uncurling himself he struggled shakily to his feet, knocking plaster dust off his clothes and out of his hair as he looked numbly around him.  The bed had moved several feet across the room, the bedside cupboard, dresser and chairs were overturned and there were chunks of plaster, broken glass and porcelain strewn all around the room. Everything, including himself, was covered in a layer of dust and, as he moved, he realized that the floor of the room was now sloping downwards towards the outside wall of the hotel.

“Ouch!” He yelped, as he took a step and felt something sharp under his foot. Standing still, he looked around him for his boots, finding them thrown to the other end of the room along with his hat, which now appeared more white, than black from the amount of dust that covered it.

Very carefully, he picked his way across the room and retrieved his boots, shaking dust and debris out of them before managing to pull them onto his feet. Picking up his hat he banged it against his leg a few of times, to get rid of the bits of plaster and debris from inside it, coughing as the action enveloped him in a cloud of dust. He put the hat on his head, wincing as he touched the spot on his forehead where he’d struck the dresser as he’d been thrown off the bed. Turning, he spotted his jacket, half protruding from underneath the now overturned armchair it had been draped across, and bent to pull it out, shaking off as much dust and debris as he could before putting it on and dazedly heading out of the room towards the lobby.

The rest of the hotel looked pretty much like their room did, with furniture and potted palms overturned, pictures and ornaments strewn everywhere and everything covered in dust and debris.  Every window in the hotel appeared to have been shattered and there was broken glass everywhere.  Other guests, looking just as dazed and dishevelled as Heyes, emerged from their rooms to head downstairs, the women crying while the men tried to comfort them while looking wildly around them, having no idea what to do.

As Heyes stepped, somewhat bewilderedly, out into the street a scene of devastation met him. The street was filled with rubble, broken glass, timber and roof tiles for as far as he could see in any direction.  Part of the roof of the hotel had slipped away, leaving the rafters exposed, and the street facing wall was twisted out of shape, leaving Heyes wondering how it was remaining standing.

He had learned of earthquakes in school, but had never before even felt the slightest tremor, not even on the occasions he’d visited San Francisco which was known to be susceptible to them, and was shocked, terrified and fascinated all at the same time, to have witnessed the awesome power they could generate.

People were running about, yelling, and screams could be heard from people trapped in damaged buildings.  Heyes turned to regard the building across the street, where the entire upper floor had collapsed, throwing down long wooden roof rafters that not only blocked access to the building but to the very street itself.  On a building a few doors further along, the outer walls of the upper floor had completely fallen away just leaving the internal walls open to the elements while, randomly, a wooden balcony at the rear of the building was still completely in-tact.  The front of a large brick building at the end of the street, which had previously had a large portico with Grecian style pillars supporting it, had fallen completely away, along with a section of the roof, the pile of resulting debris reaching higher than the first floor windows of the building.

As he looked dazedly around, he could see fires burning in other buildings.

“Oh, my God...” he muttered, as the reality of what had happened finally began to register. Then, his eyes grew wide, and a sense of panic washed over him, as he remembered that Curry had stayed at the tavern.

“Kid!” he gasped, turning and heading towards the tavern as fast as he could traverse the debris-ridden streets.

Although the tavern was only a few streets away from the hotel, it took Heyes some time to make his way through the destruction and when he finally got there he stopped dead in his tracks, looking in horror at the building.

Part of the upper floor had collapsed in on the ground floor, timber and rubble completely blocking access to the building.  Heyes had seen Curry and the girl go upstairs, but had he been in a room in the part of the building that had collapsed, or one that had remained relatively in-tact, apart from damage to the roof timbers?

A group of men were trying to gain access to the building, manually removing debris and pulling away timbers with ropes.

Heyes dived in to help them, tossing away bricks and debris like a man possessed.

They’d been working for about an hour when they were hit by a strong aftershock. Not quite as strong as the earthquake, and for not quite as long, but still enough to throw everyone to the ground and cause all those working to gain access to the tavern to retreat out into the centre of the street, fearful of further collapses.  There would be four further after-shocks before sunrise, each slightly less violent but still enough to hold up rescue work.

It was a couple of hours before access was finally gained to the building.

Half of the ground floor was filled with rubble and, as he looked around, Heyes realized that the area where he’d been playing poker was directly beneath the collapse.  Had he not gone back to the hotel he would very likely have been killed.  The thought turned his stomach and he wondered if the other players had managed to escape the collapse or not. The top part of the staircase to the upper floor was visible above the debris and Heyes and some of the other men began to climb carefully over the unstable rubble, in order to reach it, hoping that another after-shock wouldn’t bring the whole building crashing down around them.

Once they reached the first floor hallway, Heyes and a couple of other men did a search of the rooms that hadn’t fully collapsed, but there was no sign of Curry, or indeed of anyone, leaving him to wonder if he had managed to escape the building, or if he had been in a room at the other end of the building and had been buried in the collapse.  His blood ran cold at the thought.