Her father had to drive so slowly that Kate wondered if she wouldn’t be faster walking. Rubble blocked their path in some places, making detours through side streets necessary. The roads were full of people, most heading west to find refuge in Golden Gate Park, others fleeing north toward the open grounds of the Presidio or east toward the ferry building so they could catch a boat to Oakland. It looked as if a mass exodus was on its way. Hundreds of soldiers in mustard-colored uniforms patrolled the streets, each carrying a rifle with a bayonet. They must have marched down from their posts in Fort Mason and the Presidio right after the strongest shock of the earthquake had stopped. Heavens! Had martial law been declared? Kate fidgeted in the passenger seat and threw a concerned glance over her shoulder at Giuliana in the backseat. Had they underestimated the danger? The closer they came to Market Street, the more they had to slow down. The smoke became denser, making them cough. Kate stared ahead, to where a two-mile-long wall of smoke rose.
