The End of Eden (Water Worlds 1)

Chapter 16

16

A small group of men wanted to organize people. 

One loud man said we had to band together and share resources. I had heard talk like that before. It meant he wanted to be in charge and take everything.

Father and Kasey listened carefully and occasionally spoke to each other in whispers, but I knew Father had no intention of sharing anything with this man, or anyone else, for that matter.

Father was likely the most prepared of anyone and all that planning and effort was to benefit his family, not others. I wasn't sure how I felt about that but knew there wouldn't be enough for everyone if we shared.

Father and Kasey left the group and came back to our rock. They huddled around a water bottle, talking quietly. Each took a small sip, knowing it could be some time before we'd see clean water again. Despite the danger, I relaxed. I was glad in my heart to see them together. Between them, I felt safe.

I knew about tsunamis. As a child in Korea, we were drilled hard for this particular type of disaster. We had seen many training videos, and I remembered them now. I imagined the sea water drawing back from the shore as the looming wave sucked it up into a nearly vertical wall. I pictured it moving relentlessly forward, swallowing up coastal cities whole.

"I have a FIX!" someone shouted. "It's starting! The wave has rolled over the Eastern Shore and is heading for DC!"

"That doesn't give us much time," said Father. "If we're very lucky, we may be able to escape after the water recedes. If not, we may be up here for a while. Check your gear and stay close."

We went through our packs and bags and took a rough inventory. There would be food and water enough for the four of us for a couple of days if we were careful. We'd been refugees before and knew how to survive. Still, it was frightening not knowing what fate awaited us. We scanned the horizon for a very long time.

Joo Chen was first to see it.

"There it is!" he shouted. All heads turned.

A black ribbon glittered along the southeastern horizon, perhaps twenty or thirty kilometers away, judging by our elevation. It was almost a mirage at this distance.

Very slowly, over the course of another fifteen minutes, I could see it widen along the horizon, then thicken as it spread towards us, blackening the ground. This disaster was unfolding in slow motion. 

Above the moving black wall, a corner of sky in the far distance was smeared with some kind of yellow smog, shot through with purple-gray streaks.

"What's wrong with the sky?" I asked no one in particular.

Mother startled me with an answer. I hadn't seen her come up behind me.

"It must be the bruise left when the largest piece of the asteroid seared the atmosphere and exploded over the Canary Islands," she said. "The darker colors are probably a reflection of the ash from the volcano." Her voiced lowered. "If we can see it from here, it is truly a global disaster."

I looked down the mountain. Far below, some cars that clogged the entry and exit roads tried to disperse as people realized time was running out and they had to flee. They knew they had no chance here. Instead, they opted to find higher ground elsewhere.

But others, prevented from moving forward or backward by abandoned vehicles, just sat in their cars, unable — or unwilling — to believe the horror that was about to befall them.

More and more of the climbers who started out earlier were beginning to reach our little plateau. Everyone was orderly, as if waiting on queue for a seat at a restaurant. I wasn't sure they understood the seriousness of the moment. Slowly, people gathered in close, packing the open spaces and trying to get a glimpse of the view. I was feeling a little cramped, and I moved closer to my family.