The Tsunami Countdown

FORTY-THREE

11:55 a.m.

17 Minutes to Third Wave

The fast-flowing water dragged Kai toward the doorway of the condo. He flailed his arms, hoping to find something solid to grasp. The wildly roving spot from the dive light tied to his arm illuminated the entry rushing by. As he tumbled through the hallway, his hand brushed against the doorway of the south-side condo unit. He whipped his body around and slapped his fingers onto the jamb’s edge. His progress stopped, but Kai was still without an air supply. He had less than ninety seconds before he inhaled water.

He thought about trying to swim back toward the air tanks, but the current had to be over twenty knots. It was all he could do just to hold on. Pieces of debris pelted his head, but he concentrated only on the weakening grip he had on the doorjamb.

Kai had two very simple choices, neither of which was appealing: he could either hold on until his breath ran out in the hope that the water flowing out would recede to his level, or he could let go and try to swim for the surface, getting towed out to sea in the process. He knew that very few people who were carried away by a tsunami lived to tell the tale. In fact, most of them were never even found.

On the other hand, if he did hold on and ran out of air, he would drown and be dragged out to sea anyway. Kai decided to take his chances at a few more minutes of life, so he prepared to let go and swim for it.

Just before he released his grip, he noticed that he could make out vague forms where the dive light wasn’t pointing. The murky water was getting brighter; Kai had to be nearer to the surface than he thought. Sunlight streamed from the direction of the condo windows, meaning fresh air couldn’t be more than ten or twenty feet above him. With that realization, he decided to stick it out for another minute or until he panicked, whichever came first.

The room got brighter and brighter until he could actually see some of the shapes around him without the light: the edge of the door, the pattern of the wood parquet on the floor, the pieces of flowered wallpaper that hadn’t been ripped away. Just a few more seconds. His lungs were on fire, but he willed himself to make it.

Kai took a chance and inched himself up the edge of the door, hoping that he would be exposed to the air that much quicker. In short order, he reached the ceiling just as a new sound filled his ears: the unmistakable roar of water falling. At the same time a blessed air pocket opened above his head. Kai thrust his face upward, careful to maintain his grip, and gulped in a huge breath.

The water level dropped faster than an unplugged bathtub as it shot past him into Waikiki Bay. Kai maneuvered back down the doorjamb, and as the waterline reached about four feet above the floor, the flow abruptly shifted.

The walls on the south side of the condo were still intact, so when the water level reached the bottom of the windows, it had no way to continue draining on that side. But the wall on the north side of the building had been obliterated by the explosion, making an easy escape route for the remaining water.

The water stopped for just a few moments, and Kai knelt, his head just above the surface. Then the current changed direction to the north and charged back through the doorway. Because he wasn’t expecting the change, Kai wasn’t prepared. Although the rushing water was only a yard high, the force was enough to knock him down. It wrenched him off his knees, again sending him flailing. Kai was now in danger of being washed out the north side of the building like a log going down a flume.

Kai slammed into the north-side condo doorway, swung around, and saw the others in his group for a split second. Teresa tried to reach him, but she wasn’t quick enough. His head went under again, and he thought for sure he was going right through the kitchen, after which there was nothing solid to grab on to. But then a hand latched onto his arm and stopped him with a jolt.

Kai put his foot against the kitchen wall to brace himself and splashed up to get another breath. When he did, he saw Brad’s face, weary and terrified, but determined.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Brad rasped through clenched teeth.

In another few seconds the water drained enough so that Kai wasn’t in danger of going with it. The air was rank with the smell of dirty seawater, but it couldn’t have felt more refreshing. Kai stood to check whether he was in one piece. He had cuts and bruises all over, but all of the important parts worked.

“Thanks, Brad. For once I’m glad you spend all that time at the gym.”

Brad looked like he was still in shock. Being pinned down and dependent on the scuba gear must have rattled him.

“You okay?” Kai said.

Brad just nodded and started untying himself. Mia was still on the floor beside him. She was also now free of the girder. The improvised plan had worked. The raft bulged out at the other end of the girder, no longer able to hold the weight. The girder had settled back down into its original position.

“Good idea with the raft,” Tom said.

“It wasn’t my idea,” Kai said. “Lani deserves the credit.”

Lani lay on the floor, and only now did he realize she hadn’t moved since the water had gone.

“Lani, honey? Are you okay?”

He bent down and turned her over. The regulator was no longer in her mouth, and he saw why. The hose had been neatly severed by some floating object.

The suddenness of the cut gave Lani no warning that she would be inhaling water. In her struggle for air, she must have spit out the regulator. Her face was blue, and she wasn’t breathing. Kai’s daughter, his only child, was about to die.