6:00 Hours: A Dystopian Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

from. That was all that mattered.
    Far away in the ocean, jarred by shifting plates and deep tremors, water sped towards the coast on the surface, like the spread wings of a giant bird. Disturbed by a sick planet, the sea churned up waves small at first, but building to a crescendo. On shore, the foolish few who remained saw the tell-tale signs; the receding of the water. Garbage and sea life were exposed to the wind. In the past, before the abrupt shift in climate, people would have run up to pick up shells and whatever shiny objects caught their eye, but now, people were too well-educated on the signs to run towards their death. They turned their back to the sea and ran. They would not be able to run fast or far enough though. The sea reared up its white-crested head - the pale horse of the apocalypse - and rose to touch the sky. The resort where Rachel had stayed at was the first to be struck. Water burst through windows like they were made of tissue paper and lifted it off its concrete foundation. Trees were yanked up their roots, cars smashed together, and fleeing people swept up in great floods racing faster than jet planes. The levies strained and cracked - fresh water mingling with salt - and overflowed. The hungry ocean was claiming a feast.
    Three hours after the earthquake, Rachel was still driving. The roads had been bent and morphed by the earthquake, making driving difficult. Many of the houses had extensive damage, or were at least slanted on their foundations. It looked like the further Rachel drove, the less bad the earthquake damage was. Rachel wasn’t sure how far she had gone, but she knew because the going was slow, it probably wasn’t as far as she would have liked. The water was rising on the road, making her car hydroplane and skid over the road. There were a few other cars that traveled with her; people in similar situations, and she felt a sort of camaraderie with them. The rain had finally stopped beating down. Now it was like the skies were just slightly weeping, recovering from its day’s-long fit. Visibility was no longer the main issue; it was the driving conditions. Rachel turned her radio on, searching for news on the tsunami and what was going on in other places. The national news were reporting other major weather events across the country, like tornadoes, dust storms, and more earthquakes. It was beginning to sound a little like the world was collapsing. Rachel couldn’t handle thinking about other disasters. Worry for others was a luxury she could not afford. Her car began to leave the road more and more often, and drift in directions she did not want it to.
    “Damn it,” she said aloud. “No good.”
    Rachel turned off her car. It continued to bob, hoisted up by the water. It might have felt peaceful had not the possibility of grave harm or death been so near. Fighting a brewing anxiety attack, Rachel unbuckled her seatbelt and grabbed her backpack strap.
    Here goes nothing.
    Rachel opened her car door. Water poured in, warmer than she had expected, but still cool. Relieved that her feet just barely touched the ground, Rachel waded through the water, clutching her backpack. She had to find higher ground. The water was going to keep rising. Other people saw her and took heed. A couple abandoned what looked to be a nice car and followed silently behind Rachel, as if she was their leader. Rachel noticed how dirty the water was from picking up debris and vegetation for so many miles. It couldn’t be safe to stay in it for very long. Rachel knew from reading and the news that the aftermath of flooding was just as dangerous as the early, violent stages as bacteria and disease festered in standing water. Anything the water killed made the murky depths its grave and carried its decay wherever the flood wished to go. As Rachel and her unknown companions waded up the street, she started seeing more people. They came out on their porches and looked at how high the water had come. Some shouted