Frank Schatzing - The Swarm

The wave must have been thirty metres tall, a vertical wall of dark water. It was still several hundred metres from shore, but it was coming towards them at the speed of an express train. They had just seconds to get clear. The pilot made one last attempt to get closer to the fleeing man. Maybe he was hoping that the guy could leap through the open door or clutch on to one of the skids like a movie stunt-

The scientist stumbled, and fell.

Darkness descended in front of them. There was no sign of the sky through the cockpit screen, just the wall of water. It filled their view, surging forwards at incredible speed. They'd missed their chance. There was nowhere for them to go. Flying upwards, they'd be caught in the middle of the gigantic wave. By flying inland, they could buy themselves time, but the wave would still catch them. The tsunami was faster and, besides, they were facing the wrong way. The pilot couldn't turn the helicopter now.

Johanson's mind disengaged, and he wondered how he could bear to look at the vertical front of water without going mad. Then reality caught up with him. The pilot took the only viable option and sent the helicopter shooting backwards and up. The nose of the Bell sank down. For a second the ground was visible through the cockpit, but they didn't sink towards it; they were flying up and backwards, away from the wave that was racing into shore. The Bell roared as though its gearbox was about to explode. Johanson would never have thought that a helicopter was capable of a manoeuvre like that. Maybe the pilot had never believed it either. But it worked.

The breaking wave hit the beach, and collapsed. Mountains of spray shot up towards the Bell as it continued its lunatic flight. The tsunami bellowed and screeched. The next minute a tremendous jolt shook the aircraft and Johanson was slammed against the side, right next to the open door. Water slapped into his face. His head banged backwards, and red flashes passed before his eyes. His fingers clutched a strut, and tightened. Pain surged through him. He could no longer tell whether the booming was coming from the wave or his head; whether they were going up or down. His only thought was that the wave had finally done for them and they were about to be dashed to pieces. He waited for the end.

Then his vision cleared. The cabin was full of spray. Scraps of grey cloud flashed over the helicopter.

They'd made it. Instead of crashing into the tsunami, they'd scraped over its crest.

The helicopter carried on climbing and banked, so they could see the coast beneath them. But it was gone. Down below a fearsome tide, which showed no sign of slowing, surged forwards and swallowed the land. The station, the vehicles and the scientist had vanished. To their right, glittering fountains of spray exploded in the distance, shooting over the cliffs, rising straight into the sky, as though they were trying to meld with the clouds.

Weaver had been catapulted over the seats when the torrent had hit the helicopter. Now she scrambled up and stared out. 'Oh, God,' she mumbled.

The pilot's face was ashen, his jaws clenched.

But they'd made it.

They chased the wave. The mass of water was surging over the land faster than they could follow. A hill came into view and the water shot over it, the tide of foam spilling into the moorland, barely losing speed. The terrain was so flat that the water's incursion would continue for kilometres. Johanson saw a host of white specks moving in a field, and realised they were sheep. Then they were gone too.

It would have destroyed a seaside town, he thought.

Wrong. Practically every town on the North Sea coast was now being destroyed. From wherever it had started, the tsunami was radiating outwards. That was what impulse waves did. The destructive force would sweep towards Norway, Holland, Germany, Scotland and Iceland. Suddenly the nature of the catastrophe struck him like a blow. He doubled up, as though red-hot metal had been thrust against his belly.

Lund was in Sveggesundet.

SVEGGESUNDET, Norway

The Hauffen brothers were nothing if not entertaining, thought Lund. Heaven knows, they'd tried everything to persuade her to stay. They were even prepared to claim that they'd make better lovers than Kare Sverdrup – at which point they nudged each other and gave knowing winks. In the end Lund had to drink another round before they agreed to let her go.

She looked at her watch. If she left now, she'd get to the Fiskehuset bang on time.

The old men insisted on farewell hugs. She was the right woman for Kare, they assured her, a real woman who didn't turn up her nose at a proper glass of aquavit. Then they bombarded her with tips, jokes and compliments, until at last one of the brothers escorted her out of the cellars and back up the stairs. He opened the door, saw the sheet of driving rain, and immediately decided she couldn't go out without an umbrella. She did her best to convince him that she could manage without but to no avail. The old man went in search of an umbrella, then the goodbye-ritual began again. Finally she escaped the brothers' solicitudes and set off through the rain.

Things were looking lively, she thought. The sky was even darker than it had been before, and the wind was blowing more fiercely. She speeded up.

A soft beep sounded from somewhere. She stood still. It was her mobile. He must be calling! How long had it been ringing? She unzipped her jacket and pulled it out hurriedly, expecting to hear Kare.

'Tina?'

'Sigur, nice of you to call. I was-'

'Where've you been, for God's sake? I've been trying to get hold of you.'

'I'm sorry, I was-'

'Where are you now?'

'Sveggesundet,' she faltered. There was static on the line and a loud drone in the background was forcing him to shout, but there was something in his voice that she'd never heard before. It scared her. I'm just walking along the beach. The weather's foul, but you know me, I-'

'Get out of there!'

'What?'

'Get out as quickly as you can!'

'Sigur! Are you mad?'

'Do it now. Right away.' He carried on talking, breathlessly. The words washed over her like rain. The crackling and rustling distorted his voice, so at first she thought she'd misheard him. Then she grasped what he was saying, and her legs turned to jelly.

'I don't know where the epicentre is,' his voice sputtered. 'The wave must be taking longer to get to you. Either way, you're running out of time. For God's sake, go! Get out while you can!'

She stared out to sea. The gale was ruffling the water with fluffy white surf.

'Tina?' Johanson shouted.

'I… OK.' She sucked in her breath, filling her lungs with air.

She threw down the umbrella and started to run.

Through the rain she could see the lights of the restaurant, warm and inviting. Kare, she thought. We'll take your car or mine. The jeep was parked five hundred metres from the restaurant, but Kare had some spaces right next to the Fiskehuset where he usually left his car. She carried on running. Rain splashed into her eyes and she remembered that the car would be parked on the far side of the building, hidden from view.

Amid the howling of the wind and the roaring of the waves there was another noise, a loud, slurping sound.

Without stopping she glanced round.

Something unbelievable was happening. Lund froze, watching the sea disappear, as though a plug had been pulled out. An expanse of dark, uneven seabed emerged, stretching far into the distance.

Then she heard rumbling.

She blinked and reached up again to wipe the rain from her eyes. Far away on the horizon, something long and immense took shape. At first she thought it was a dark hank of cloud. But then it surged forward, and she saw that it formed a perfect line.