Clear Water, Hidden Danger

Chapter 4 – The Break

It happened before anyone could move. No warning. No reason. Just sudden violence.

A chair scraped hard against the floor.

We all turned. Sharon was standing now—stiff, unsteady, like her body was catching up to itself. Her hair clung to her face, eyes wide and unfocused.

“Sharon, take it easy,” Dave said, stepping forward with his palms out. “You need to sit back down.”

Her breathing quickened—short, uneven. She looked at each of us, then fixed on Mark. Her pupils were wide, the color nearly gone.

“Sharon,” Mark said carefully. “You need to calm—”

She lunged.

No scream. No warning. Just motion. She snatched a torque bar from the tool rack and swung. The metal struck Mark’s head with a wet crack. He dropped instantly, blood splattering across the floor.

“Sharon!” Dave shouted.

She turned, chest heaving, the bar clutched in both hands. Her face was blank—no rage, no recognition. Just absence.

Two engineers moved first. One grabbed her arm, the other reached for the bar. She hit the first square in the chest and slammed the second into the wall with a sound that broke bone.

Dave and I went in together. It felt like fighting someone twice her weight. We tried to pin her, but she threw us off, snarling through clenched teeth. The sound wasn’t human.

“Hold her!” Dave yelled.

It took four of us to bring her down. Her back hit the floor, legs kicking, arms thrashing. She snapped her teeth at the air, foaming spit catching the light. I grabbed the cuffs from my belt, pinned her wrists, and locked them tight. She jerked once more, then slowed. Her breathing eased. Her head rolled to the side, eyes half-open, staring at nothing.

Mark lay ten feet away, unconscious but alive. Blood ran down his temple, pooling at his collar. One engineer pressed a rag to the wound.

“What the hell was that?” Dave asked, voice shaking.

“She just snapped,” one of the crew said. “Looked right at him and lost it.”

I stood there, heart pounding, hands trembling.

Sharon’s skin had gone gray, her fingers twitching against the floor.

“RJ,” Dave said, “get the radio. Call this in.”

I grabbed it, cycled channels—static. All of them.

“No response.”

He pulled out his phone. “We’ll call from outside.”

No signal.

The engineers checked theirs. One caught a single bar long enough to call home. His face changed mid-sentence.

“My wife says the animals in town are acting strange,” he said quietly. “They aren’t making a sound. Just standing in the streets—dogs, birds, even cattle—all facing the same direction.”

That sealed it. Whatever this was, it wasn’t just local.

Dave rubbed a hand down his face. “Then it’s everywhere.”

Mark groaned. He was conscious now, blinking through blood. “What happened?”

“Sharon happened,” Dave said flatly.

Mark tried to sit, winced, pressed a hand to his head. “She—she hit me?”

“Yeah,” I said. “You’re lucky she didn’t finish the job.”

Sharon stirred again. Her lips parted in a slow smile that didn’t belong to her.

Dave stepped back. “She’s awake.”

Her eyes rolled toward us, pupils still blown wide. She whispered something too low to catch. I leaned closer.

It sounded like words, but not English—a low hum under the breath, rhythmic and steady.

The same rhythm as the tremor.

I looked at Dave. “We need to get our families here.”

He nodded, jaw tight. “If it’s everywhere else, they’ll be safer behind this fence.”