Higher Ground by Becky Black (notion reading list txt) 📗

Water blasted from the mouths of vents as it would from a high-pressure hose, spraying and surging across the basin from the base of the mountains. It kept coming. How far had the island sunk in the quakes? If the coast side of a vent was completely submerged, the water would come through it like an express train, and it wouldn’t stop.

“No,” Zach whispered, the word barely audible over the rumbling coming from the ground, caused by the force of the water flooding through the channels in the base of Shusara mountain. Adam directed his binoculars down to where they’d left their vehicles, to see water pouring across the land. The vehicles must have been washed away like so many toys.

But he didn’t care about those. The water was covering the road, and more water came from every direction. The vehicles on the road, the rest of the residents of Arius, racing desperately for the hills, didn’t have a chance. He thanked God he couldn’t see it well as the water overwhelmed the road, sweeping away everything in its path.

The picture blurred as tears obscured his vision. When he heard the sound of a choked sob, he turned from the horrible sight and looked at Zach. Tears streaked his paper-white face.

“Why couldn’t I have been wrong?” He tossed down the binoculars and dropped to the ground, his head in his hands. Korrie knelt beside him, her arms around him. She spoke softly in a soothing, motherly tone, and stroked his hair gently. Adam wanted to take her place, offering Zach comfort, but as the trembling ground stilled and the rumbling stopped, he turned to see people looking at him. Looking first at Zach, but then at him. Zach couldn’t address them with some inspirational words this time, so they looked to Adam instead. What the hell did he say? People were crying for their dead friends. What could anyone say to them?

“Adam,” Simon said. “The distress call just stopped.”

Oh hell, we didn’t need to hear that. Of course it had stopped. Arius had been wiped off the face of the planet. People didn’t need to be reminded. He glanced at Zach again, who had tears running freely down his face, staring out over the basin as it rapidly turned into a sea. Not seeing it, though, his gaze elsewhere. A thousand-yard stare which told Adam Zach was not the man in charge right now.

Which meant Adam was.

“We’ve got at least another hour of daylight,” he said. “Let’s use it.”

People stared at him as if he’d suggested they leave their children behind. Even Zach looked up at him with some shock.

“Perhaps this is a good place to stop for the night,” Simon said quietly. But Adam shook his head.

“That water isn’t going to stop. The interior flooding is only going to accelerate the sinking. We have to keep moving.” They couldn’t waste a second. All the abstract theory had been swept away like the hundreds of people down there. “Get ready to go.”

He went to Zach and helped him to his feet. “You walk with Ann. I’ll go up front for a while. Let me be the bad guy, okay?”

Zach almost smiled. He raised a hand to touch Adam’s face. “You could never be a bad guy. I’ll come and join you as soon as I pull myself together.”

Adam left him and strode through the crowd with a show of confidence he didn’t feel inside. When he reached the front, he turned back around to face the group. They were ready. They were still crying. The dogs were still whimpering. But the adults had their packs on, the small children scooped up or riding in backpacks.

They were ready, and Adam felt proud of them. He had no stirring words. None would be adequate. Instead, he led by example, turning to face the uphill slope and climbing. Their tribe followed him.

Chapter Eighteen

They walked for nearly an hour and a half, braving the twilight to make it a little bit farther. Only once it became dark enough to be dangerous did Adam agree to stop. Many people didn’t erect their tents. Some didn’t even eat dinner. They unrolled their bedrolls and sleeping bags and bivouacked right there. A few gathered around the campfire and ate and talked quietly.

When Adam joined them by the fire, sitting down beside Zach, he found Korrie talking about the early days of the colony and her fellow founders, many of whom had died today. A renegade she might have been, but those people had been her friends. She’d been the firmest believer in Zach’s prediction, but to see it come true so horribly must have shaken even her.

“The day we finished the atmosphere processing, that’s the day old Davey Johnson showed what he was made of. All the readings in the world meant nothing until we actually saw someone outside the dome, breathing the air. And David said as head of mission, he had to be the one.”

“Did anyone argue?” Visha asked, a smile on her face at the wry question.

“Not for long, no.” Korrie managed a smile too. “So he put on a pressure suit and went outside. Everyone—I mean every single one of us—stood watching him through a window by the airlock. He took some readings, triple-checked them, and then took his helmet off. I’ve never known five seconds to last so long in my life. That’s how long the old atmosphere would have taken to kill him before we processed it. And after five seconds was up…”

“I bet you all went nuts,” Adam said.

“Yep. So did David. Dancing, jumping up and down. He even did a cartwheel.”

Adam boggled at the thought, remembering the frail old man he’d last seen only a few days ago. “A cartwheel? In a pressure suit? Is that even possible?”

“He managed it. He was a lot more limber in those days than he is—”

She stopped, and her face turned stricken. She didn’t correct