What happened next was unlike anything I had ever seen or was likely to see again. The middle section of the great dam began to collapse. It happened in slow motion: the walls trembled and seemed to melt inward, then a fissure opened in the middle into which each end was gradually swallowed.
Water, billions and billions of liters, rushed over the top of the broken wall and into the valley below. It spilled from the great dam, sweeping trucks, concrete, and people before it. It came down from the cliffs and rushed toward us, as fast and furious as a tidal wave or an earthquake—an unleashed, angry river, the power of which was something no person could control.
We didn’t even have time to run.
CHAPTER 9
The first thing I noticed when I awoke was that my clothes were soaking wet and plastered to my body. I had never been wet without a mask, and never when fully dressed. It was a huge waste of water, potentially dangerous and likely to make me sick. These were the lessons I had learned in the classroom, at a desk in a school that was now hundreds of kilometers away.
I tried to move, but my sides ached painfully. One leg was bent behind me as if it belonged to someone else. My hands were scratched and bleeding, and I could taste more blood in my mouth. I felt for teeth and was relieved to find they appeared to be intact. I pressed against them with my tongue, confirming that none were loose or broken. I managed to lift my head a few centimeters from the ground, but I could only see mud, rocks, and water. I could also hear a rushing sound, like a steady wind blowing through sand. But there was no wind and no sand. My head sank back into the mud.
It came back to me then. The explosions. The dam collapsing. Ulysses throwing open the doors and pushing us from the truck. After that everything was a blur. The waters caught me and swept me away. It was like the ancient river our father had described—so much water rushing wildly over everything in its path. I struggled to stay afloat, then just let myself be taken wherever the river intended.
Time passed. I didn’t know how much. It might have been an hour; it might have been a day. Although I felt dizzy and was in pain, I was able to pull my leg beneath me and, by propping myself up with my elbows, move into a sitting position. From there I could see the ruined landscape, the chunks of concrete and metal. Water ran everywhere, and even the skies were dark and muddied. There was no sign of the dam or of the people and machines, although I could still see the cliffs where the structure had once been seamlessly joined. No Will. No Ulysses. Everything had been swept away.
I realized how hungry I was, and despite being soaked, how thirsty. I cupped my hands to sip some water from the pool in front of me. In school the teachers had drilled it into us not to drink anything that didn’t have a government stamp on it, but I couldn’t remember the last time I’d drunk. The water might make me sick, but what choice did I have? I leaned over and scooped the liquid into my hands.
The water was delicious—cool, fresh, and invigorating. It tasted like the water Kai had brought with him to dinner at our home: real water, unfiltered and without chemicals, straight from the sky into a river, from which it flowed up to the dam. I scooped up several more handfuls, drinking my fill until my belly hurt, and I burped loudly.
I sat straighter and looked around again. I guessed it was the middle of the afternoon. Though it was warmer than normal for the time of year, within a few hours, it would soon grow cold. I knew I couldn’t survive the night outside in wet clothes. Already I felt chilled to the bone, and my fingers were numb. If I didn’t start moving, I might perish just from sitting still. I placed my palms on the ground and pushed myself unsteadily to my feet. I swayed woozily in the thick air until my balance returned. Then I began to walk.
At first I followed the river downstream. It seemed natural to follow the flow of water, which rippled and coiled like a living thing. But as my head cleared, I realized the chances of finding survivors were greater back at the dam. There was more likely to be food and shelter there too. So I turned, retraced my steps, and made my way upriver.