The screaming begins.
Even the youngest child understands there is no running from this. We will all die in the next few minutes. The wall of water is massive and it is filled with strength and intent. It will sweep us to eternity.
The screaming stops. Everyone simply stares in mute fascination. No one runs. There is no running to do that will change this fate.
I feel then heat in my gut, as if someone has branded my internal organs with a hot poker. My hands start to shake uncontrollably. I stare down, wondering what is happening. The heat inside me causes more fear than the wall of water does. Only for an instant does the irony of that flit into my mind.
My hands are glowing. I see the bones, veins and muscles inside, as if there is a light source within. I have no control over this. My skin is afire. My gut feels as if it will explode outward, to throw my entrails at the wall of water.
I lift my head. By the stars, here it comes.
Some force lifts my glowing hands into the air. That same force issues an eruption of sound from my mouth. I scream at the tidal wave and I gesture at it. The wave and I become one and I command it to go elsewhere.
For a moment all time seems to freeze … and then the wall of water parts. One half veers towards the plateau; the other half swerves south. Swiftly the churning heights lose integrity, and small waves lap away into the distance.
A beam of light pierces the silence then. The sun is rising.
I stare at my hands, and then I look around me to find men, women and children staring at me. As one, they kneel.