Chapter 260: The Water Burst Through

Zhiyi woke when Qinghe reached across her to silence his radio.

His arm brushed her shoulder, and she caught his wrist before he could pull it away, still warm enough beneath the blanket that she didn’t want either of them to move.

Then she heard Hanchuan’s voice.

"Bring Zhiyi downstairs when she’s awake," Hanchuan said. "The water’s rising faster. We’re checking the river cameras."

Qinghe answered, then set the radio beside the unfinished book. He looked down at her hand around his wrist and bent to kiss her.

"I was hoping we’d have a quieter morning," Qinghe admitted, brushing her hair away from her cheek.

Zhiyi released him and pushed herself up against the pillows. The shutters kept the room dark, but she could hear rain striking the metal outside.

"So was I," she replied. "Leave the bed as it is. I’d like to come back."

His smile followed her as she climbed out of bed.

He found her slippers beneath the chair while she retrieved her clothes, and they dressed with the radio between them, listening to Jingwei describe what he could see.

By the time they reached the security room, Shichen had put an older recording beside the live view.

Water had covered the lower half of a doorway in the recording. Now only a narrow strip beneath its lintel remained visible.

Zhiyi stood behind Hanchuan’s chair and rested her hands on his shoulders. He leaned back against her briefly before pointing toward the screen.

"That change took less than an hour," Hanchuan told her. "The driver downstairs says the embankment is overflowing. We haven’t found a clear view of it yet."

She bent forward, wanting to get a closer look.

Debris that had drifted lazily between the buildings last night was moving quickly now, gathering against corners before breaking free. A wooden cabinet turned in the current, struck a submerged obstacle, and split open.

"The flow has changed," Zhiyi said, following the cabinet until it vanished beyond the camera. "Can you show me the northern intersection?"

Shichen brought up the view. Rain blurred the distance, but the water between the buildings was streaked with foam. A small boat struggled across it, its bow turning despite the driver’s efforts.

Zeyu leaned over Shichen’s shoulder.

"He needs to stop trying to cross there," Zeyu said. "The current keeps catching his side."

The boat reached the shelter of a building and disappeared behind it. Zhiyi waited, watching the gap where it should have emerged, but nothing came through.

Hanchuan covered one of her hands with his.

"Our storage floor?" he asked, looking toward Shichen.

"Dry, and still well above the water," Shichen replied. "The mobile base and boats are secured. I checked before I came in."

Zhiyi squeezed Hanchuan’s shoulder. They had moved everything that needed moving. She could feel him wanting another task anyway, something he could finish before the water reached its next mark.

"You should eat," she told him. "Watching the screen won’t keep you awake much longer."

Hanchuan turned his head to look at her, and she brushed her thumb beneath his eye. He had the same tired crease there that appeared whenever he slept sitting up.

"I’ll get something," Hanchuan agreed. He caught her fingers and kissed them before standing. "Take my chair."

On the lower cameras, people were carrying their belongings upstairs again.

The woman who had given away her food held a bundle against her chest while the child followed with one hand caught in his mother’s coat. Behind them, two men wrestled a mattress around the landing, blocking everyone below.

The man in the dark sweater pushed past them with the captured rifle slung over his shoulder.

"Leave it," he told them, catching the mattress at one corner. "You’re holding up the stairs."

One of its owners refused to let go. The other looked down at the people waiting, then released his end. The mattress slid crookedly across the steps before several hands shoved it aside.

Zhiyi watched the child climb past it. His mother lifted him over the folded edge and kept going without looking back.

Farther down, people were filling containers beneath guttering wedged through an open window.

Rainwater ran along the improvised channel into a bucket. A woman dragged the full one away while a man pushed another beneath it, spilling some in his hurry.

"They’re taking water up while they still can," Qinghe said from beside her.

Zhiyi nodded. The buckets had seemed unnecessary when the entire street was underwater.

Looking at the brown flood washing through the rooms below, she understood why nobody wanted to leave the cleaner water behind.

A heavy knock came through the exterior microphone.

Zeyu straightened as Shichen changed the display.

The abandoned motorboat had struck the side of the tower, its rope stretched tight between the bow and the window frame. Each surge lifted it, slammed it against the wall, then dragged it back again.

The loose sheet had torn away. Zhiyi could see the rifleman lying across the floor, one arm moving with the rocking of the boat. She couldn’t tell whether he was alive.

The window frame shifted, and for a moment, the boat hung crookedly beneath it.

Then the frame tore loose, and both vanished along the side of the building.

Zeyu reached for the controls and followed the boat around the corner. It struck a floating length of timber, rolled sharply, and disappeared beneath the dirty water.

Nobody spoke while the camera searched the surface.

Hanchuan returned carrying two bowls.

He placed one beside Zhiyi, then sat in the chair Qinghe pulled over for him. She took the spoon because he was watching and ate while Shichen brought the northern view back.

The water was moving faster.

By late morning, the small white building across the street had lost most of its remaining wall.

The neighboring roof, where people had climbed to safety days earlier, was crowded again. Someone had stretched a sheet over poles near the stairwell, but one corner had come loose and was snapping in the wind.

Zhiyi stood beside the desk with Hanchuan’s arm around her waist. He had finished eating, though he still hadn’t slept. She rested against him while the others watched from their chairs.

At the far end of the street, a dark line spread across the water.

Shichen enlarged the image.

What Zhiyi had first taken for another patch of debris was a surge carrying whole trees, their branches turning above the surface. It filled the space between two buildings and struck the white building hard enough to throw water over its roof.

The remaining wall folded into the flood.

Hanchuan’s hand tightened at her waist as the neighboring rooftop disappeared behind spray. When it came back into view, the sheet and its poles were gone.

Across the room, Zeyu got to his feet.

"Their stairwell," Zeyu said, pointing at the roof. "Look at the door."

Water burst through the door from below, immediately flooding the place.

The people nearest the opening stumbled backward, and the man who had been holding it shut fell as the current spread across the roof toward them.