PROLOGUE

          The blue-white lightning permeated his body for the impending leap in Time and then, Doctor Sam Beckett felt himself being snatched up by the auspicious, all-knowing sky-blue expanse once again.  Even as he drifted there, neither knowing up nor down nor left to right, the enlightened entity permitted Sam to revive his lost memories of home.

          In his mind’s eye, he saw his family. He saw Tom laughing at him as he tried to beat him at a game of basketball; Katie singing a Beatles song as she sat on the front porch watching them; his mother baking an apple pie – the only evidence of its wonderful existence floating aimlessly on the breeze; and his father in the barn yelling at the them to quit horsing around because they had chores to do. 

“I want to go home,” he said the words though he wasn’t sure how he formed them and they reverberated around him in the expanse.

“Not yet,” came the whispered rejoinder.  “Soon, though.  Very soon,” the words echoed back.  Then words he’d heard from someone not too long ago permeated the air around him.  “You’ve done a lot of good, Sam Beckett and you could do a lot more.”

“But... I... I’m tired,” he replied, his voice ebbed with the weariness that he was feeling.

“Then... rest, Sam. Rest.”

Sam found himself submitting to the whispered coaxing intonation that ebbed around him and closed his eyes, yawned then muttered almost hypnotically, “Ohhh b..b..boy.”

PART ONE

Project Quantum Leap

Stallion's Gate, New Mexico

          Dr. Samantha Josephine Fuller - soon to be Fulton - made her way through the corridor toward the Archives to the large aperture at the end of the hall and removed the vent from over the ventilation shaft.  Replacing it behind her, she turned in the vent, then made her way through it for the next twenty minutes before she saw the other vent that went into Stephen Beckett’s secret lair.  Opening the vent, she saw that it hadn’t changed much since she first visited.  It was still the same dusty, grungy room that she remembered.

          The young Beckett was resting comfortably in the corner of the room on a beanbag reading a comic book.  He flipped to the next page of the comic book nonchalantly.  It could be only one person coming to see him.  He hadn’t informed anyone else about his covert hideaway. “Hey, Sammy Jo,” he said with a grin as he looked at the next scene of Spiderman flinging his web out toward a building.

          “Hey, Stephen,” she said with a grin as she straightened up and slightly arched her back to alleviate the strain she had put on her back as she ambled through the ventilation.

          Gradually, Stephen put the comic book into his lap and focused his attention on her.  “Why are you here, Sammy Jo?  I mean, is everything okay with Uncle Al and Dad?”

          “Oh yeah, everything is fine.  Dad hasn’t leaped yet and Uncle Al is fine.  I just heard that you were in your secret hiding spot, and thought that I’d come by and see how you were doing.”  She knelt down beside him and glanced down at the magazine in his lap.  “Spiderman, huh?”

          “Yup.  I like the comics.  They take me away from reality and well... help me to relax.”

          Sammy Jo considered his words.  “Something wrong, kid?”

          “Nah.  Not really.  I...” Stephen shifted awkwardly in his beanbag.  “Oh, I don’t know,” he finally answered.  “I feel sort of blah, ya know?  Even watching Dad through Zeus doesn’t help.”

          Sammy Jo sat down on the floor next to him and pulled her knees up and hugged them close.  “You miss him, huh?”

          “Yeah.  I do,” he confessed as he looked down as if he found something fascinating on his thumbs.

          “Me too, sweetie.  Me too.”

          Silence fell upon both of them.  Each were caught in their thoughts for a moment, then Stephen looked over at his half-sister considerately and asked, “When did he leap out?”

          Sammy Jo thought for a moment.  “Well, it’s been a little over three weeks now.”  She saw the troubled look that he attempted to hide.  “Don’t worry, Stephen.  He’ll leap soon and maybe it’ll be home.”

          Stephen gave her a small smile, tsked his tongue and then tilted his head as he reclined in the beanbag.  “That would be a miracle, Sammy Jo, don't you think?”

          The normal tinkling and whirring of the machinery in the oil refinery was suddenly severed as a low rumble spread through the structure.  The occasional rumbling was nothing to the men who worked there, especially every once in a blue moon, but this was out of the norm.  The low rumble turned into a turbulent churning chaos. 

          An emergency horn blared through the refinery signaling the back-up work crews that they needed to exit the complex immediately.  Red twirling lights cast an eerie glow in the hallways as men ran through the corridors.

          “What the hell is going on?”

          “Hell if I know!”

          A new sound reverberated through the building and the two men who were running together slammed into the walls as the seismic wave from the explosion hit them.   The sound of a whoosh sounded in the hallway and one of the men turned his head to see what was happening behind them.  A pillar of fire began to fill the adjoining intersection; the air suddenly smelling of burning oil and the sound of a man’s scream cut short made him clamp his hands over his ears. 

          “Get up, Boyd!  Come on, let’s get the hell outta here!”

          Boyd looked up at his colleague then turned his head back to the fire and began to scramble up the wall.  He swallowed hard, his eyes big as saucers.  He took a few steps toward the next corridor that his colleague was approaching.  “Hey, Derrick, wait up!” 

          But as he approached the corridor, Derrick turned around to face him to motion him down the hall when another swooshing sound filled the air in front of him.  Boyd stopped dead in his tracks and stretched his arm out toward the man to motion him back.  “No!!  Derrick!!”

          Derrick turned his head in time to see the oncoming fireball pressing upon him and gasped before he was hit, knocking him to the ground and screaming out in pain.

          Boyd turned his head and squeezed his eyes shut, clamping his hands over his ears again to cut out the sound of his friend’s scream.  “Oh no… no… no…” he whimpered over and over again.  “I’m going to die.”

          “Sam? Dr. Beckett?” the whispered echoing intonation called out to him as he slept in the vast cosmic blue-white vortex.

          “Hmmm?” Sam’s voice cooed back sleepily.

          “It’s time, Dr. Beckett.”

          Sam’s eyes opened and he blinked in the vastness that surrounded him.  “Am I going home?” he asked hopefully.

          “No.”

          Sam’s heart sank and he felt depressed with that acknowledgement.  He took in a deep breath to calm himself.  “When?” he asked softly.  “When am I going to go home?”

          “Soon.”

          The feeling of being lifted in the blue-white vortex reminded Sam of being in an elevator and being taken up to quick as his stomach tingled from the movement.  “Just remember to never underestimate the impossible,” the feminine voice, told him ceremoniously.  “God bless, Sam.”

          The feeling of being dropped into his next host engulfed Sam as the tingling sensation began ebbing through his extremities.  Even as he landed in his new host, the phrase rang through his mind once more.  ‘Never underestimate the impossible.’

PART TWO

Project Quantum Leap

A form appeared in the Waiting Room.  The figure was crouching with their hands over their ears, shaking their head from side to side.  The blue-white electrical energy of the leap vanished showing a familiar face to those in the complex, but the words being uttered told Ziggy that the familiarity ended there.

          “Oh please… don’t let me die…” the words were cut off as the words began to echo back around him in the silence of the massive room.  He slowly dropped his hands then glanced around the circular room.  His eyes darted to the long bed in the center of the room then looked at the warmth of the blue walls that surrounded him.  He slowly opened his mouth in wonder.  Slowly and methodically, he edged his way up the wall so that he was standing and took a hesitant step forward knowing somewhere deep down that the sensation of being in this warm safe haven wasn’t going to last long.

          The door of the Waiting Room slowly opened with a swoosh.  The man turned his head at the sound and watched as a tall, slender black woman entered the room dressed in a navy-blue dress with a white lab coat over it.  He noticed that the woman’s smile was warm and inviting as she approached him and he couldn’t help but smile back.  “Hi.”

          Verbena assessed their newest leapee as she had approached him.  She noticed that the person before her was calm and relaxed – almost mellow except for his awed expression.  She replayed his greeting in her mind.  Although it was a single word, the intonations told her everything she needed to know about his mental state.  The words she would normally use to calm their visitors were brushed away. “Hi,” Verbena shifted her portfolio to her left hand then held out her right hand to him.  “I’m Verbena,” she said as he glanced down at her hand then tentatively took her hand in his.

          “Ver-bena,” Boyd tried her name out on his tongue then blinked as he tried to remember his own name.  “I… uh… I’m,” his brow furrowed a moment then he said, “I’m Boyd.  Boyd Keyser.”

          Verbena nodded her head affirmatively, thankful that he had remembered his name, that made Ziggy’s job ten-times easier to find Dr. Beckett in Time more than anything else.  ‘Now, if I can just get the date and place,’ she thought hopefully.  ‘That’s all the big girl needs.’

          For a moment they locked gazes with each other; both had a pleasant expression as Boyd held her hand.  Finally though, the examination ended when Boyd reluctantly let go of her hand and cleared his throat nervously.

          “Would you like to sit?” Verbena motioned to the bed.

          “I’d rather stand,” Boyd responded.  His eyes captured hers once again enraptured by her features.  ‘Could she be?  Is she a…?’ his mind wondered then he quickly brushed the absurd questions aside.  ‘No, she can’t be.  There’s no such place as Heaven.  Hell, if there ain’t a God, how can there be a Heaven?’ he thought logically; ridiculing himself at the thoughts that he had been having.  ‘You’re an atheist, Boyd Keyser, quit thinking such stupid things! Hell, next you’d be thinking that there was such a thing as the Easter Bunny or Santa Claus.’  He gave a sort of half-chuckle then refocused his attention to the lovely woman standing before him.  “What?”

          Verbena smiled at him then carefully repeated her question.  “I asked, do you know what today’s date is?”

          Boyd frowned as he thought about her question.  “Today’s date… today’s date.  Well, let me see here.  I know the date… it’s funny that you should ask.  I mean I’d like to think that you’d know.”

          “Well, Time seems to get away from us here.  Please?” she asked gently.

          Boyd nodded his head.  “It’s… uhm… March… ’64… the 27^th?  No… that ain’t right.  It’s March 28, 1964.  Yeah, that’s it.”

          Verbena nodded as she transferred the portfolio to her right hand and opened it.  Picking up her pen, she wrote down the information that he had just given to her for her own records.  “That’s great.  Thank you.  Um… oh,” she said as if she had just remembered something that she had forgotten.  “I need to find out where you live… but if you can’t remember… that’s okay.”

          “God’s Country,” Boyd was quick to answer. 

          Verbena tilted her head to the side and gave him a curious look.  “Where?”

          Boyd grinned at her.  “Alaska, Verbena," he stated proudly. "I live in Alaska.”

          The claxons that rang in the halls throughout the complex was specifically directed toward Ex-Rear Admiral Albert Calavicci.  Al was surprised by the sound that he popped up out of his chair so fast that he hit his thighs hard on his desk.  “OW!” he growled as he landed back in his chair.

          “Admiral Calavicci, you must come to the Control Center.  It is imperative that you see Dr. Beckett now!”  Ziggy’s normal purring tone was gone; only urgency filled her voice.

          Al carefully backed his chair away from the desk and rubbed his thighs then stood up.  Wincing, he started toward the door.   

          Ziggy sounded the claxon again alerting the Admiral how urgent it was for him to get down to the Imaging Chamber.  The few times that Ziggy had sounded the alarms in such a way, Sam’s life was in extreme danger. 

          Al yanked the door open and began to run down the corridor toward the Control Room.  “What’s going on, Ziggy?” he questioned as he ran down the hallway. 

          “Dr. Beckett is either about to be in an earthquake, is in an earthquake, or could be dead from an earthquake.”

          “What?!” Al yelled as he skidded around a corner.  “You don’t know!?”

          “No, Admiral.  Not until we get a lock on Dr. Beckett.”

          “What the hell are you waiting for?!”  Al yelled as he ran into the Control Room.  “Let's get that damn lock!”

PART THREE

Seward Alaska

March 28, 1964

          “Never underestimate the impossible,” Sam murmured as reality began to settle around him.  He heard a roar of what sounded like a locomotive rumbling through on its tracks and a low hissing sound.  The sounds were confusing to him as he took a deep breath and immediately began to cough from the thick black smoke that rushed into his lungs.  His eyes blinked rapidly and began to tear as he tried to assess what was going on around him. 

‘Where have I leaped?  When…and what’s going on?’  Sam peered through the smoky air and could make out a dark orange and red gloom at the end of each of the corridors.  ‘Oh God, I’ve leaped into a fire!’  He raised his shirt up over his mouth to try to filter the hot, smoky black air so that he could breathe a bit better.

          He thought for a moment on his options.  He had two.  He could sit here and wait for Al to show up and help him out, or try and find a way out of the mess he was in by himself.  His second option was more difficult to do since he didn’t know the layout of the building, but at the same time, he knew that he couldn’t stay where and get burnt to a crisp while he was waiting on Al.

          Standing up, he used the wall behind him to direct him down the hallway as he tried to find an escape – a door -- something.  As he moved down the hall, he felt the heat increase.  Frowning, he started back the way he had come to check out the other end. Once again felt the heat increase, and again came up without an escape.

          “God, don’t do this!” he called out hoarsely as he coughed. Again he was knocked to the ground when the building began to shake even harder from another explosion somewhere in the bowels of the structure.  “Al!” he called out to his friend instinctively.  “I can’t do this without you!”

          “I’m here, Sam!” Al called out over the roaring that surrounded him.

          Sam was instantly calmer now that he was not there alone.  “I’m surrounded! There’s no way out!”  Sam took another deep breath against his better judgment and began to cough again.

          “We’ll get you outta here, kid!  Just a minute,” Al raised the handlink and had Ziggy find the layout of the oil refinery.  He found a nearby room adjacent that Sam could at least duck into momentarily.  “Okay, Sam.  I found something.  Come on, follow the sound of my voice.” 

          Sam nodded as he turned back toward the hologram.  “Keep talking!”
          “There’s a room, just down here, I’m standing in the doorway here.  Come on, Sam!”  Sam came quicker than Al expected and he moved through the door as Sam physically opened it and shut it quickly.

          “What’s going on, Al?” Sam questioned as he glanced around the dark room. 

“You … you’re in an oil refinery during an earthquake.  But I’ll explain more in a minute, kid.  Let’s get you outta here!”

          Sam nodded in agreement as he moved further into the room and began to look around.  Sam saw that he had entered some kind of general-purpose storage area.   The items piled around made him suddenly remember the storage room that he had back at the project… the secret one that he called his own hub.  ‘What I would give to be back in that cubby hole,’ he thought as he ascertained what could be useful in the room.  The only thing that he could see that might help out in some shape or form was a large white lab coat that was hanging on a coat rack in the corner of the room.   “How do I get outta here?” he questioned as he glanced back at the door and saw the black smoke beginning to creep under the door. 

          Al punched the buttons quickly on the handlink.  “Zig, says that the only way outta here is on the next corridor over from either ends of this hall.  The stairs are the only way outta here now because the elevators are kaput.”

          “Those corridors are on fire,” Sam stated matter of factly.  “There’s not a way out.  It’s…” Sam was about to say impossible when the words came back to him again.  “Never underestimate the impossible,” he whispered.

          “What?”  Al asked confused.

          “Nothing,” Sam went over to the corner, grabbed the lab coat.  Moving quickly to the sink that was in the lounge, he plunged the lab coat into the warm water, saturating it.  He grabbed a glass and began to pour it over his head and over all of his clothes until he was drenched. Once he was certain that he was soaked through, he grabbed the lab coat and slapped it over his head.  “Al, lead me to those stairs.”  Sam opened the door and started out into the dark, smoky hall.

          “This way, Sam.  Come on.”  Al continued to coax Sam down the smoke-choked hallway calling his name and letting him know where in the corridor he was, and how many more feet to go.   

          As he moved through the fiery corridor, Sam could feel the intense heat around him and made sure that he kept the lab coat sealed around his face.  He followed Al’s voice quickly and slammed into the door with his body, forcing the door open.  Huffing, he shut the door and took a few steps forward.

          “Watch it Sam!  You’re too close to the top of the stairs!” Al called out over the din of the inferno behind them.  “You can take the coat off.  No fire here.  Just smoke.  Lots and lots of smoke.”

          Sam opened the lab coat and looked at Al gratefully.  “Thanks, Al.”

          “No problem, kid.”

          Another explosion erupted from the building and threw Sam into the wall. He caught his balance, grabbed the railing and stumbled down the shaking stairs. With Al's rapid-fire directions, Sam was able to follow the hologram's voice and maneuver the stairs safely even through the smoke. He crashed into the wall where his Observer told him there was a door and fell outside just as another explosion rattled the building. The structure shuddered once, twice, and then began a slow tumble into the water.

          Sam didn't stop; he raced away from the scene just ahead of the flaming oil, which ran like molten lava from the fresh wound of the destruction. When Sam finally felt the heat from the fiery hell lessen, he dropped to his knees, panting as he clutched at the stitch in his side. He wasn't sure he had the energy to stand.

Al popped in beside his friend. He shook his head in disbelief at the blazing catastrophe in the distance, unable to speak. The handlink squealed for his attention and his eyes grew large as he read the message from Ziggy. "Oh man . . .listen to this Sam," he said. “Ziggy says that she found Boyd Keyser - that's the man you've leaped into - and during this quake - oh, crap! Get up, Sam! You gotta get outta here!"

          Still gasping, Sam tilted his head back and looked at Al. "What?"

"GET UP, SAM! There's a tsu . . . sue . . . nam .  . . a TIDAL wave coming! Look at the bay!"

           Sam rolled his head to his left and froze at the eerie sight. The water in the bay was receding from view, like a film going backward.  It was as if someone had pulled the stopper from a bathtub; the clockwise churning of the water in the bay would have been a fascinating sight if the known results weren't so terrifying.   It was a total gut reaction - Sam found himself on his feet and running from the muddy bay without a second thought.

          Al centered himself on Sam as he ran toward town.  Even as Sam ran, Al couldn’t help but tap into Ziggy’s data about the tsunami and the earthquake.  “You won’t believe all the damage caused by both the earthquake and the tsu…”  the handlink stopped and Al hit the side of the handlink with his palm.  “…nam… hell, the tidal wave that hit this town,” Al said as he glided beside Sam.  “This entire town was a definite disaster area.  The oil refinery collapsed - well, we just experienced that - and was burning before the first tidal wave hit.”

          “First?” Sam gasped out as he ran.

          “Yeah.  There were seven or eight of them in all!  Ziggy says that the 1964 wave was the second largest ever recorded.  The newspapers say that the tidal wave that came in was over seventy meters high…that’s about a 230-foot wall of water, Sam.  It picked up the burning oil, rubble and debris from the refinery and hurled it into the city.”

          Sam stumbled over a small fissure that crossed his path then glanced over at Al and shook his head.  “Al…”

“Can you imagine what these people thought when this wall of water, fire and oil came hurling down on them?  It destroyed everything and that’s just the water!  We aren’t talking anything about the shaking beforehand!”

“Al…” Sam called him again, hoping that he caught the hologram’s attention and that he’d stop rambling about the outcome of the earthquake.

“Houses… shattered.  Railroads, bent like spaghetti.  Roads dropping over five feet… all routes in and out of the city cut off.  It’s amazing!”  Al looked up for a moment with an awed expression on his face.  “Ooooo, I’ve always wanted to see one of these things!  Not an earthquake, mind you… a tidal wave.  I’ve heard…”

“Al… where… where do I… go?”  Sam tried to talk over him.

“… all those ‘rogue wave’ stories in the Navy and never saw one of those, but here’s my chance to see a real tidal wave!  I can’t wait to see it!  I mean, this… this is history that we’re talking about Sam!  You can’t just experience it in a theatre… this is as close as you can get!”

Al was so absorbed in the aspect of seeing a tidal wave that he hadn’t realized what his words were doing to Sam.  Sam slowed down to a jog, then to a stop as the stitch in his side became unbearable and he began to double over in pain.  “AL!”

Al finally turned his head to look at his best friend. The Observer's eyes were sparking with excitement.  “What?”

“Would you… just shut up and … tell me where I … need to go?” he panted.  “I don’t want to … hear about it.  I’m… I’m closer than I… want to be!” he exclaimed as he pointed toward the bay.  “Just… just tell me what does… doesn’t get soaked.”

“Everything gets wet, Sam.  A 230-foot wall of water tends to do that!  Now, you’d better hustle your buns to that bank on the hill.  Ziggy says that the northern parts were relatively unscathed… as far as the oil and fire, anyway.”

“How do you know that?”

“Gee, I just looked in my crystal ball!” Al retorted.  “There were witnesses in the mountains there," he pointed just outside the city, "and survivors from there. Since they were able to give their accounts, I think it’s okay, wouldn’t you?” He was pointing at the bank on the hill.

“Yeah, but what about avalanches and landslides?” Sam asked incredulously that witnesses would be up in the mountains looking down on the catastrophe playing out below them.

“Well, maybe they found shelter in Bigfoot’s cave.  Hell, Sam, I’m just telling you what I …” Al stated. 

Sam held up his hand and stopped Al from talking.  “Do you hear that?” Sam tilted his head to the side and closed his eyes to focus just on the sound that he had vaguely heard.

          “What?  I don’t hear…”

          The sound came again -- a faint muffled cry -- and Sam shot off at the sound that was coming from the right of him.  The stitch that was begging him to stop came on again in a hurry, but Sam wasn’t going to let it stop him.  “Hello!” he called out.  “Where are you?”

          “Sam!  Where are ya going?  Head toward the hills, Sam!  You can’t stay here!  Come on!  The tsu, … ah, the tidal wave!  Remember?”

          “I thought I heard something!” he called back over his shoulder as he ran about thirty feet away from where Al stood.  “I’m here!” he called out to the noise that he had heard.  “Where are you?  Let me help you!”

          Another muffled cry came, but it was closer than before.  Sam turned in a complete circle as he heard, “Here!  Over here!”

          Al popped in beside Sam with questioning brown eyes.  “Sam!  Come on!  You gotta get to high ground!”

          “Al, there’s someone around here. I can hear them!  Quick, do a scan of the perimeter!”  Al opened his mouth to negate Sam’s observation, but Sam wouldn’t have it.  “Just … just do it!”

          Al brought the handlink up to begin the sweep of the area.  When the handlink squealed positively, Al glanced up in the direction in which the handlink was pointing.  “Over there… by that pile of rubble…”

          Sam made it over to the large pile of rubble in seconds and heard moans.  He began to look around the debris, trying to find out how he could get to them.  Luck was on his side.  Toward the top of the rubble, Sam saw a hand sticking out waving.  He reached out and grabbed it.

          The hand went rigid, the fingers spread wide and a frightened scream from inside the rubble was heard.  “Sweet Holy Mary, Mother of God!” 

          “Damn, Pam, you didn’t have to scream like that.  I mean, hell, we are stuck in this car… all of us!” another voice from inside yelled at her.

          “Something just grabbed my hand!  What was I supposed to do, Daniel?” came the response.

          “I don’t know, but you didn’t have to scream!”

          “Hey!” Sam raised his voice to get over them.  “We don’t have time to argue.  Let me start moving some of this.  I’ll get you out, but afterwards, we all have to run.  Understand?”

          The people in the car quieted down.  “Okay, mister,” Pam said loudly enough for him to hear.  “Whatever you say… just … get us the hell outta here!”

PART FOUR

Project Quantum Leap

“How are you feeling, Boyd?” Verbena asked as she caught sight of his flushed face. She pulled over two chairs that were on the outskirts of the room.

          Boyd shifted his feet somewhat then glanced down at the floor.  “I… well, I’m okay.  I mean, I wonder what this place is.  I know that this can’t be what I thought it might be… at first,” he rambled as he took one of the chairs from her and sat down beside her.

          Verbena smiled gently.  “What did you think it was, Boyd?”

          Boyd chuckled slightly.  "As silly as it sounds... heaven."  He took a quick breath and then looked away from her.  "I... I mean, I know that there isn't such a place.  Ain't no God, neither.  Guess I didn't know what I was thinking.  I mean, after all that fire I saw... I...” he stopped and blinked at the image that came to his mind and shook his head.  Blowing out a quick breath, he said, "It's stupid.  I know."

          “No, nothing’s stupid,” Verbena said carefully.  “Tell me why you don’t believe in … a God,” she asked warily knowing that religious battles were the toughest to reason with.

          "There can't be a God.  A God would be fair and just... he wouldn't let bad things happen to good people.  Nah," he frowned and nodded his head as he affirmed his own beliefs again.  "Can't be one and you can't make me change my mind, Verbena."

          “Oh, I’m not,” she quickly corrected him.  “Even though you don’t believe in God, I certainly do.”  When Boyd gave her a quick glance, she smiled lightly at him.  “I believe that God gave us one very big gift… that being free will; the ability to believe and do what we want to do; to make our own choices.  And even though bad things happen, it happens for a reason.  He has a plan.  Whether you know it or not and in the grand scheme of things - everything, no matter how small or insignificant, is better because of it.”  Verbena gave a small laugh and tilted her head to look up at Boyd.  “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to ramble on like that.  But in our line of work, we’ve developed a bit of a philosophical outlook on these things.”

          "That maybe so... and that's good for you, but it isn't for me.  If there is a God, he's unfair and nasty.  He took my wife and my son and left me here to rot without them.  I was nothing before them... and now, I'm nothing without them.  I'm just... a shell... living my life day in and day out working... as a... a... damn... what did I do?" he asked a bit confused. 

          “It’s alright… focus on what you do remember.  Tell me about your wife.”

          "She was a wonderful woman.  She kept me happy... and I kept her happy.  Her name was... Becca.  Yeah, that's it.  She was my world and now it's gone.  Johnnie, that's my son, he... died in the same auto crash that my wife did."  Boyd stood up and slammed his hand into the wall.  "A man shouldn't outlive his own kid!  It's not right!  I always knew that I was going to go first... been waiting... "  His anger slowly dispersed and he slumped; his head bowed gently between his arms.  "A man shouldn't outlive his family," he whispered.

          “Boyd, tell me something.  Is that all that you’ve learned since the accident?  That a father shouldn’t outlive his family?”

          "That and that there's can't be such a thing as a God.  If there was, he wouldn't have killed them!"  He quickly turned around and kicked at the wall.  "He killed them!"

          "Tell me about the accident,” Verbena asked softly.

          Boyd looked over at Verbena and shook his head slowly as he turned and leaned against the wall.  "She... Becca was coming home with Johnnie.  He had just came home from the university.  You know - the first in our family to go to college.  I was so proud."  Even as he began to tell the story, his eyes began to water with emotion and his voice wavered.  "They called before they got on the road saying they were on their way.  But they never made it home.  A semi crashed into them... head-on.  I... I never got to see my son or my wife again.  Her momma's family buried them in the lower 50," Boyd said as tears slowly shimmered down his cheeks. v                 w

          "So, it was the semi that killed them and Becca's family that buried them in the States?" Verbena restated his synopsis. 

          Boyd affirmed her question by nodding his head.  He brought his hand up and wiped at his cheeks a bit embarrassed that he had cried in front of the woman. 

          “Boyd, why did Becca’s family decide to bury her in the U.S.?  Didn’t you have a say in the matter?”

          Boyd’s mouth opened and shut like he was a fish out of water gasping for air.  His gaze went to several things in the room.  “They… they needed closure and to do it… they wanted to bury my family there.  It’s where they live.  They wanted to be closer to her.  I…”

          “Did you stop them?”

          “No.”

          “Where did Becca want to be buried if something had happened to her?  Had you talked about it?”

          Boyd hung his head once again and murmured, “Yeah.  She… she wanted to be buried in Alaska… near our home.  It’s my fault.  I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me.”  He shook his head sadly then looked across the room, fixing his gaze on nothing in particular as he said, “I feel so guilty about that.”

          Verbena Beeks had been through it all.  She’d seen everything in her line of work.  Seeing this man who was obviously guilt-ridden and his pain over the loss of his family, he had only one place to turn to and when he did turn to it, he placed all the blame on the thing that he couldn’t touch – God.  “So, you didn’t stop them and now you feel guilty for not following your wife’s wishes.”

          Boyd nodded again and moved his hand over his mouth and kept it there for a moment.  He ran his finger across his full lips then turned to Verbena.  “Could… could I be left alone?”

          Verbena sat there for a moment studying his face closely.  Standing, she placed her hand on his shoulder.  “Think about everything that you just told me, Boyd.  A lot has happened to you.  It’s easier to place blame on someone else than were it should be.  Perhaps… perhaps this is the time that you need to get things straightened out with everyone.” 

          Boyd looked up at her with confusion.  He wasn’t exactly sure what she meant but he hesitantly bobbed his head at her words.   “Thanks, Verbena.”

          Verbena gave him a small smile then turned and left the Waiting Room.

PART FIVE

Seward, Alaska

          Sam was working quickly, trying not to think about the tsunami that was due at any moment. He was shocked to find that the victims, teenagers, were trapped in a car crushed by the wall of a building they had been parked next to. As he quickly began to remove some of the debris from the top of the car, he asked the pied hologram beside him, “How much longer do I have?”

          Al quickly accessed Ziggy’s data and shook his head.  “You’re cutting this close.  Ziggy estimates that you have maybe five minutes.  Five.  You may not be able to save these kids.”

          Sam grimaced as he got another piece of the rubble to fall back.  “That’s what I’m here to do, isn’t it?”  Sam asked a bit irritated that Al would even think such a thing. 

          “Ziggy doesn’t know…”

          “Ziggy doesn’t know a lot on most of these leaps,” Sam mumbled under his breath as he slid yet another heavy piece of cement from the top of the car.  He then turned his head slightly and lowered his voice, “These kids died the first time, right?”

          “Yes, but you don’t understand…”

          “I understand that they shouldn’t have died.  So, either tell me something pertinent to this leap, or just leave, Al.” 

          Al shook his head then took a deep breath.  “Listen, Sam.  This Boyd Keyser guy… he survives the fire in the refinery, he survives the tidal wave, he gets to a shelter and then he drops dead of a massive coronary!  And with the way that you’ve been running and overexerting yourself, Sam, you just might have one right here and now!”

          “No, I won’t!”  Sam snapped at him. He moved yet one more piece of plaster from the top and found that he had the beginnings of a hole.  As the piece fell to the far side of the pile of rubble, Sam felt a tinge of pain moving through his chest.  He ignored the pain and wiped his brow.  “I’m going to be okay.  Just… keep an eye on that clock and tell me how close.” 

          Stepping up onto the ruins that were piling up at his feet, he looked down at the hole and enlarged it just enough for a teenager to fit through.  He looked inside the darkened opening and called to the teens inside.  “Listen… I think that I can get you out now.  Just be careful as you come out.  Jagged edges.” 

          “Sam…” Al called out his name to hurry them up. 

          “Come on… we don’t have a lot of time,” Sam said as he held out his hand for the first teen to escape from the car.

          “Time?” the young woman’s voice asked as she appeared.   Sam steadied her as she climbed out. “What do you mean we don’t have a lot of time?”  She was covered in ash and dirt but when she was finally out of the hole, she looked up at Sam with gratitude in her eyes. 

          “Something… big is coming,” he told her plainly as another dusty, ashy head popped through the hole.  “How… how many are in the car?”

          “Three,” she said softly.  She turned her head to look at how the earthquake had affected her hometown.  “Oh no,” she said softly as she glanced at the destruction that had already happened.  “This will take months…” she paused as she swiveled her head to look at the bay.  She blinked at the sight before her and took several steps toward the bay not believing her eyes.  “Where’s… where’s the water?” she asked enamored by the site of the muddy pit. 

          “Pam?” Daniel asked as he stepped toward her.  “What are you talking about?”

Pam’s arm shot out toward the bay, her body shaking in fright.  “God Almighty, where’s the water?” she asked in apprehension.  

          Daniel followed her gesture and his mouth slowly opened in trepidation.  “Oh shit!  We need to get the hell outta here!”

          “That’s what I’ve been saying!” Al’s exasperated voice barked hurriedly.  “Quit pointin’ out the obvious and just do it!”

          When the last teen was standing beside Sam, Sam felt another pain creep through his chest toward his arm.  “Come on!  This way!”  Sam pointed toward the bank. 

          “The bank!” Daniel said plainly.  “The bank has a bomb shelter! Come on!”

They began to run toward the building, which was about three blocks away. 

As they ran down the deserted street, the pain in Sam's chest raced through the rest of his body, causing him to gasp and stumble. The teens slowed down but Sam pushed them onward. 

          “Sam!  You okay?” Al asked concerned.

          Sam ignored his friend and yelled at the teenagers. “No… keep going.  I’ll make it.  Get to the bank!”  He glanced at the concerned hologram beside him.  “Al, make sure they get there!”

          "Sam…”

          “Just do it, Al,” Sam panted.

          Al nodded his head and popped out of sight, not sure how a hologram could accomplish that task.

Sam watched as they ran ahead of him.  He slowed to a stop and braced his hands on his knees as he gasped for air and relief from the pain assaulting him.  He felt a rumble below his feet and glanced up at the teens as he fell to his knees.  They had fallen as well, but they were on the steps of the bank. 

          The rumbling and shifting under him stopped and an eerie silence enclosed him.  He looked up at the bank again in time to see the doors of the bank swing shut.  Sam closed his eyes and bowed his head finding somewhere inside of him the strength to stand.  

Suddenly the air around him began to move.  It was gentle at first then slowly began to pick up speed.  Turning back in the direction that he had come, he looked at the bay as the wind whipped at his hair and clothing.  He felt himself being pulled toward the bay.  His eyes fixed on a movement.  He tilted his head and squinted, trying to figure out what he was looking at. It took him a moment to realize that it was the white, frothy foam topping the tsunami.  “Oh my God,” he whispered in fascination.

Sam’s scientific mind was enraptured by the innate supremacy of the approaching wave.  “It’s… incredible.  All that power - one moment, tranquil and passive, the next…” 

Al popped in beside Sam and saw how Sam’s clothes were being pulled away from his body from the wind.  “Man!  What a zephyr!”

“… it’s the right hand of God.”

“What?  What’s the right hand of God?”  Al glanced up into his friend’s face and then turned to see what Sam was so enamored with.   His eyes widened in dread.  It took him a second to tear his eyes away from it to look back at Sam who had taken a step toward it.  “SAM!!”

Al’s voice tore into Sam’s hypnotized state and he turned his head to look at his holographic friend.  “Al?” he whispered.

“RUN!!  THE BANK!!  COME ON SAM!! RUN!!”

Project Quantum Leap

The Waiting Room