Chapter 1 - The Brass Bell
The sharp ring of the brass dinner bell cut through the rising panic in the dining room.
Georgia struck it against the metal service cart a second time.
She struck it a third time.
Silence fell over the thirty-eight trapped guests as they turned toward the woman lying on the makeshift stretcher.
Georgia ignored the shooting pain radiating from her crushed left leg.
She focused on the structural groans of the luxury lodge shifting beneath them.
"Listen to me carefully," Georgia commanded.
Her voice was not loud, but it possessed the absolute authority of a woman who orchestrated survival for a living.
"The west retaining wall has failed, and this building is actively sliding into the gorge."
A woman in a soaked evening gown began to sob.
"We have exactly five minutes to evacuate to the north maintenance barn," Georgia said.
Scott pushed his way to the front of the crowd.
"You are inciting a panic, Georgia," he hissed.
He gestured vaguely toward the massive stone fireplace.
"This lodge was engineered to withstand a category four seismic event."
Georgia looked at the man who had just given away her seat on the rescue helicopter to his mistress.
"It was engineered for earthquakes, Scott, not fifty thousand tons of liquid mud."
She pointed to the grand windows overlooking the valley.
"Look at the water level against the glass."
Everyone turned to see dark, sludgy water creeping halfway up the reinforced panes.
Scott opened his mouth to argue again.
He never got the chance.
A sound like a bomb detonating echoed beneath their feet.
The polished hardwood floor of the dining room buckled violently upward.
A jagged chasm ripped through the center of the room, separating Georgia’s cart from where Scott stood.
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Water began geysering up from the rupture.
The lodge was tearing itself apart.
