I’d just hopped down off the pavement when the world erupted in the biggest noise I’ve ever heard. Not a bang or a crack. Just a huge, loud, indescribable noise. My ears rang and for a moment, I thought they’d hit me with the sonic thing again and it was all over before it started.
I’d forgotten. Just for a moment, I’d forgotten about the volcano.
The sound echoed around the streets, bouncing off high walls, followed by a long, low, never-ending reverberation that found an echo in the tremors beneath our feet.
All around me, life had stopped. Some people had dropped to their knees, holding their heads. Even the mule pulling the cart had stopped dead. Everyone was staring up at the mountain, which was belching thick, black smoke high into the air. Pliny would describe it as shaped like an umbrella pine and he was spot on.
It had begun.
I had the advantage, because I’d been expecting it. While everyone was still frozen with shock, I slipped between the cart and the wall and down a narrow, dirt alley. I turned left at the bottom, and left again, then back on to the main road. I moved slowly between groups of people still staring in stunned belief at the mountain. I had no time to look myself.
I’d thought long and hard about whether to stay on the streets, dodging around and making it difficult for them to get a fix, or to nip through a garden gate and find some quiet corner, stay put, and trust that Leon turned up before they found me. I decided to stay on the streets. For the time being, anyway.
In the distance, the massive column of smoke grew taller and wider. It must be all of ten miles high. Despite the dangers of falling roof tiles, more people were running out of their houses to look. Shopkeepers left their premises to join others on the street. Customers from the caupona on the corner were gathered outside, many of them still chewing. Not one of them had put down his drink. Even now, there was more curiosity than panic. People pointed, and exclaimed and chattered. I wanted to shake them because they could still escape. It wasn’t yet too late for them.
I was just oozing around the wine shop when the ash started to drift down, hardly discernable first, just the odd flake here or there. If I hadn’t seen it settling gently on my blanket, I might not have noticed anything.
Children ran out into the streets, dodging around, trying to catch the flakes as they drifted silently downwards and still there was no major panic or terror-stricken exodus to the gates. There was nothing I could do. Those who didn’t try to get away within the next hour or so wouldn’t get away at all, and now the Time Police were here, I couldn’t afford to draw attention to myself by trying to persuade people to leave.
The ground rocked again. I dropped to a crouch and waited for the tremor to subside but this time, it didn’t. The eruption had begun and the ground wouldn’t stop shaking now until long after everyone was dead. I would just have to cope.
The next half hour was no fun at all. I had to make haste slowly. I checked each street before venturing forth. At all times, I had to be aware of my position in relation to our rendezvous point. I had to keep returning there to check if Leon had returned, without making it obvious that that location was in any way important. I didn’t want them setting an ambush. I should be seeking shelter, but there was no chance. If I stopped moving then I was dead in the water. Or the ash.
The tremors were increasing in strength. I could hear pots toppling over and bricks or roof tiles crashing into the street. The baker had, very sensibly, doused his fires and the wine shop owner had long since stopped trying to right his toppled amphora. People were shuttering their windows against the ash and dust. It wouldn’t do them the slightest bit of good. Many had returned to their homes, thinking they could wait it out as they always had in the past. There were fewer people on the streets.
The ash fluttered more thickly now and I was caked in it. It was evil stuff and I was coughing, because volcanic ash contains silicone. When it gets in the lungs, it liquefies, making it difficult and then impossible to breathe. Take it from me; covering your face doesn’t help much. I had a ghastly metallic taste in my mouth. I stopped at street fountains at every opportunity, but now the tanks were full of ashy scum. With the continuing tremors, it was only a matter of time before the pipes cracked or the tall water towers came down and then there would be no fresh water at all and they still hadn’t finished repairing the water system from the last eruption.