The Woman Who Saved Pompeii

The Woman Who Saved Pompeii
Fiona

Marcus and I have been running from Vesuvius for what feels like days now, but I am sure it’s only been a couple of hours. Felix never leaves Marcus’s side as we alternate between jogging and walking, knowing we are running out of time before Vesuvius erupts. We are desperate to put as much distance between ourselves and the mountain as possible.

As we head down the road toward Neapolis, which is present-day Naples, I see families moving in every direction: riding in wagons, on horses, and many people are on foot like us. I feel a surge of pride at how many lives Marcus and I were able to save. Still, thinking of those who refused to leave, I know there will be victims we couldn’t convince in time.

We slow our pace when we’re about halfway to Naples, which should take us between four and six hours, depending upon how clogged the road is with other people fleeing, and Marcus hands me his canteen. I take a drink and then hand it back.

“It might be difficult to find your people when we get into the city,” I say. “Neapolis is going to be overflowing.”

“People will work together to locate their loved ones,” he says, his voice calm. “It will be all right.”

The ground shudders violently. Felix scrambles and topples over, and I stumble into Marcus, who catches me and helps me find my footing so I don’t fall. 

Another shake has us stumbling, and it’s harder this time. Felix growls, his fur bristling, and lies down flat. Dust kicks up around our feet as the roar of the mountain bursts into the sky.

People ahead are screaming now. Carts tip, spilling bundles and children, parents scooping them up, dragging them to their feet. “Move faster! Keep moving!” someone shouts. 

From the treeline, a small herd of wild boars bursts into a nearby clearing. They dart away from the forest, moving fast, and for a moment, the people running past catch sight of them and shriek in surprise. Felix dashes toward the edge of the path, barking, then spins back to us, eyes wild.

A tremor knocks me sideways. I stumble into Marcus again. Ahead, a woman trips over a fallen bundle, screaming that she’s hurt her leg, and a man bends to help her up.

The sky behind us, near the mountain, glows orange and red. Ash drifts down like snow, coating faces, hair, and the fields on either side of the road. Birds erupt from the trees in shrill clouds, wings beating frantically. Small animals burst from the forest, scattering in all directions.

I clutch Marcus’s arm. “It’s happening!”

“We better keep moving,” he says, taking my hand and pulling me along. 

The mountain screams behind us, and still the road stretches ahead, filled with desperate, frightened people. Every step is a fight, every second is sheer chaos. I drop Marcus’s hand to run faster and force my legs to carry me, knowing we can’t stop now. 

We run another two or three miles before finally slowing to catch our breath. The further we run, the weaker the tremors feel, the ground only occasionally shuddering beneath our feet. The screams ahead are replaced by the chatter of hurried conversation—still tense, but no longer raw panic.

“I… I think the crowd is growing more calm.” I gasp as we slow to a brisk walk.

He nods. “We’re getting farther away, and they know they’re fleeing to safety.”

Dust and ash swirl around us. People are still moving, but the stampede has calmed. I glance back. The smoke and fire-red glow from Vesuvius still hang over the horizon, but the roar is distant now. 

Finally, after moving for about five hours, judging from the location of the sun in the southwestern horizon, Marcus and I approach the outskirts of Neapolis. 

The road narrows as more people converge here—those fleeing Pompeii and nearby villages, mixing with the locals who are most likely utterly confused. The noise is still loud but less frenzied than it was closer to Vesuvius. Voices shout to one another, and wagons jostle as families make their way into the city to begin their new lives. 

“This place is just as packed as I’d imagined it would be,” I say, wiping sweat from my brow. “How do we even move through? Let alone find your family?”

Marcus scans the throngs of people. “Yes, this is quite intense. I say we find a place to stay for tonight and figure the rest out tomorrow.” 

“Marcus, I don’t think there’s any room at the inn.” I know he won’t understand my Christian reference, but that’s okay. I am serious, after all. I giggle under my breath. Despite everything, I can’t help it.

He looks around. “You’re right about that.” After a beat, he says, “Wait… how is that funny?”

I laugh and shake my head as we continue down the street, trying to find a place to rest. “I’ll explain some other time.”

“I’m starving,” Marcus says. “Let’s at least find some food.”

“I’m hungry, too. I just realized we haven’t even eaten yet today,” I reply. 

Marcus and I walk until we spot a tavern tucked between two larger buildings. When the door swings open, we immediately smell the warm bread and roasted meat. 

“Thank the gods,” Marcus mutters. He orders bread, meat, and wine. As the owner heads back to fetch our food, Marcus steps outside to fill our canteen at the fountain. He returns just as the man brings our lunch, and we find a table and dig in, sharing hunks of meat and sips of water with Felix. I gulp down the water and wine, eating more than I have in days. 

“I feel so much better,” I say when I’ve finished.

“I’m glad you feel better.” He wipes his mouth on a napkin and takes a deep breath. “I’m so happy I met you, Fiona. You saved thousands of people. How can I be so fortunate to love the woman who saved Pompeii?”

I blush at the idea of someone thinking of me as someone who saved an entire city. “I’m just me—Fiona Lockwood.”

“Fiona Lockwood?” he says, almost like it’s a question.

“Yes, that’s my last name,” I reply. 

“I like it,” he says, smiling. 

“Thank you.” I chuckle. Have I never told him my last name?

“Well, Fiona Lockwood, what would you like to do first—look for my family or find a place to sleep tonight?”

“Well,” I say, smiling at him, “maybe if we find one, we’ll find the other.”

Marcus laughs. “Let’s start here. I’ll ask the restaurant owner.”

Marcus and I approach the counter, and the man who prepared our food looks up. “Do you know of a family by the name of Valerius? They just moved to town.”

“No, Dominus,” he replies. “I’m sorry, but it seems like a great many people have just recently moved to town.” 

“Thank you anyway,” Marcus says, handing him some coins.

He nods. “I hope you find them.”

“Thank you,” I say as we step out through the tavern doors. 

Once we’re back out on the street, Marcus leans toward me. “We’ll check the places they might have already shopped. The bakery, butcher, fruit stalls—and then we’ll move toward the market.”

At the bakery, Marcus asks the baker, “Have you met the Valerius family? They just moved here.”

The baker shakes his head. “There’s an older couple named Valerius, but they’ve lived here all their lives.” 

Marcus frowns. “They must be distant relatives. Thank you,” he says politely as we step out of the shop. I wonder why he doesn’t ask where they live. Maybe that’s the family his mother mentioned.

We move to the fruit stalls. “Excuse me,” I call to a vendor. “Have you met Dominus Valerius? Lucius Valerius?”

Everyone shrugs or shakes their head. 

I glance at Marcus as we move down the street. “Maybe we should try whoever keeps track of property,” I suggest. “Someone there might know if your family has bought a house recently.”

“Why didn’t I think of that myself?” he asks, shaking his head. “Of course. Let’s go to the local magistrate.”

Felix stays close to Marcus as he leads us through the streets. 

“Do you really think he will know anything?” I ask. 

“He should,” Marcus says. “Even just a note, a scribal record, or a mention by a negotiator. If anyone knows where my parents and Lucius live, it will be someone in this office.”

We turn a corner and spot a modest office, its steps crowded with people coming and going. 

“This is the place,” Marcus says, stopping in front of the building. “Property transactions are recorded here—sales, purchases, and leases.”

Marcus turns to Felix. “Wait here, Felix. Stay.” 

Felix lies down, and Marcus and I walk up the steps and inside the office. In the main room, people are working at desks, filling out forms, talking quietly, and exchanging papers.

We make our way toward the receptionist area, and that’s when I spot him and can’t hold back. “Look, Marcus, it’s Quintus!” 

I see Cornelia is sitting beside him, the children playing at their feet.

Marcus pushes through the crowd. “Quintus!” he calls.

“Marcus! Fiona!” Quintus says. “I’m so glad you made it. We were so worried. We thought you’d stay too long trying to save more people.” 

“We made it out alive. It’s so good to see you! I’m so glad you’re all safe,” Marcus says. 

Cornelia wipes her eyes, laughing softly. “We weren’t sure you had escaped. Seeing you here…” She shakes her head. “It’s a miracle.”

Once the initial surprise subsides, Marcus asks. “What are you all doing here?” 

Quintus smiles. “We’re buying a house,” he says proudly. “We’re just starting the process, and we’re about to go to our new home.”

“Congratulations!” I say. 

Marcus grins. “Yes, congratulations indeed.” 

“Thank you,” Quintus says. “If it wasn’t for you, we’d still be in Pompeii right now…” He trails off, and for a moment, we all fall silent, thinking of what might have happened if they hadn’t left.

“Everyone we love is safe now,” Cornelia says, lifting little Julia into her arms and tousling Gaius’s curls.

“Yes, and that’s what’s most important now,” I say, smiling at her. “Would the two of you happen to know where Marcus’s family settled down? Do you know if they were able to purchase a home here yet?” 

Quintus smiles. “Actually, we do. We went to look at a house for sale we were considering, but they bought it first.”

“What’s the address?” Marcus asks excitedly. 

“Solarius Street,” Quintus says. “Two-story house, pale yellow façade, and a large wooden door. Just past the fountain.”

“It’s very large and lovely,” Cornelia adds. “The gardens are gorgeous, filled with blooms.”

“Thank you,” Marcus says. “And where is your new house?”

“We’re on Livia Street, not far from the market. A red-brick house with green shutters. Please, come and visit us soon.”

“We’ll visit very soon,” Marcus says. “But now, Fiona and I need to see if we can find my family.”

Quintus nods. “Of course. Be careful.”

I step forward. “Goodbye,” I say, giving Cornelia a quick hug.

“Goodbye, Julia. Goodbye, Gaius,” Marcus adds. “See you soon.” 

We turn and move through the room toward the door. Back outside, the sun begins to set over Neapolis as we make our way to Solarius Street, hand in hand, Felix sticking close. We’re no longer in a hurry and no longer fleeing terror or disaster. 

I look over at Marcus and realize that even if we couldn’t save everyone in Pompeii, even if I can’t make it back to my own time, what truly matters is that he and I found each other and that we made it out alive. We did the best we could to save as many people as possible, and at the end of the longest day of my life, that’s all I can ask for.