I was sneaking in a nap, sequestered in my study in our home in Solihull, a quaint town in England’s West Midlands. The window was partially frosted, our garden blanketed by last night’s snow. The air inside my office was tinged with the scent of a basting turkey and the dying embers from my fireplace.

Life was good. I had retired seven months earlier, having served the last nine years as the Dean of Solihull College. With pensions coming from Cambridge and S.C., along with royalties generated from three patents, we were well-off financially and able to assist our three children and their families.

The boys had arrived last night: William, his wife, Jackie, and their two girls from London, and Andrew, his wife, Rachel, and the baby from Drumnadrochit. Claire and her fiancé were due in, their plane arriving from Boston later this evening. I heard the boys playing ping-pong in the basement and the grandkids playing with their Christmas presents in the den.

Brandy’s dark hair was pulled back in a tight bun, revealing a few gray roots, her apron tied around her torso. Feeling slightly guilty over having fallen asleep while she cooked, I feigned innocence. That’s when I noticed that my wife’s blue eyes were red-rimmed and frightened.

“Zach, something terrible has happened.”

My chest tightened. “What’s wrong? Is Claire all right?”

“It’s not the kids.” She searched my desk for the remote and turned on the television.

The news was on every station, the story coming from the States. Reporters talked over fluctuating images: lava as wide as a river, swallowing a neighborhood; collapsing bridges and billowing chocolate-brown smoke; highways backed up in traffic as far as the eye could see.

While I slept, hell had opened its gates beneath Midwestern America.

Brandy paused from channel-surfing at a newscast featuring an animated aerial view over a national park.

“ …to recap if you’re just joining us, at approximately 4:47 a.m. Wyoming time, the Yellowstone Caldera, an underground magma chamber fifty-five miles long, erupted beneath Yellowstone National Park. Categorized as a supervolcano, the Yellowstone Caldera has erupted three times in the past 2.1 million years, the last major eruption occurring 640,000 years ago to form the crater beneath the park. Experts say this morning’s blast was two thousand times more powerful than the 1980 Mount St. Helens eruption.

“Dawn Marie Hurtienne is a volcano expert working with the U.S. Geological Survey. She joins us now from Wyoming. Dr. Hurtienne, this is Melody Matney. Thank you for taking time to speak with us. We understand you are in the process of evacuating your family. Was there any warning this eruption might occur?”

“Scientists began warning Washington about this event as far back as 2004, when the ground above the caldera began rising at a rate of 2.8 inches a year. Yellowstone trails had to be shut down when ground temperatures exceeded 240 degrees Fahrenheit. Yet they never took our warnings seriously.”