Dry

“The McCrackens. The Herders of the world. Sure, our kind may look a lot like Wolves—large fangs, sharp claws, and the capacity for violence—but what sets us apart from the rest is that we represent the balance between the two. We can navigate the flock freely, with the ability to protect or disown as we see fit. My dad says that we’re the select few with the power of choice, and when real danger arises, we’ll be the ones who survive—and not just because we own a 357 Magnum, three glock G19’s, and a Mossberg pump-action shotgun, but because we’ve been prepping, in every possible badass way, since as long as I can remember, for the inevitable collapse of society as we know it.”

Here, Kelton describes how his family has prepared for this (or any) disaster while also showing how they view themselves as compared to other people. By calling themselves herders, the McCrackens both hold themselves to a higher standard than others and consider themselves superior. However, the way that Kelton describes their preparation reveals how truly it’s lacking. Kelton focuses on the aspects that he finds interesting, like guns, and fails to consider preparations far more relevant to the current crisis.

“It was only dark for a second. Maybe not even that, but it’s enough to make everyone stop eating. Everyone is frozen. What’s that expression? Waiting for the other shoe to drop? But it doesn’t. The lights are on, they stay on. But it doesn’t change the fact that they blinked.”

At this point in the novel, Alyssa and her family still attempt to maintain a sense of normalcy despite their lack of running water. This quote shows, however, how shallow this pretense runs. Even though the lights only flicker and don’t go out completely, the brief threat of darkness is enough to put the entire family on edge.

“Which is worse, I wonder—watching everyone you know fall into that ravine, or shaking their reality with such force that it ruins them.”

When Alyssa’s parents say that they think the government will help people through this crisis, Kelton has immediate doubts. His family, especially his father, has raised him to trust and rely on only himself and those close to him. Since Kelton considers himself a herder and the Morrows sheep, he feels at first an obligation to enlighten the Morrows to the flaws in their ideas. He stops himself, however, when he condescendingly remembers learning how unaware real sheep are of obvious dangers. By leaving the Morrows in the dark, Kelton thinks he’s being kind, although his motives are patronizing.

“My brain has kicked in by now, and I realize that this is much bigger than my AWOL brother. It’s pretty disturbing to see war machines traverse the neighborhood you grew up in—and if that’s not troubling enough, the truck turns left, directly into the high school parking lot.”

When Kelton and Alyssa bike around their neighborhood looking for Garrett, they see military vehicles driving into the local schools. This triggers a change in Alyssa’s mindset. The juxtaposition of war vehicles with the normalcy of schools that she attended makes her begin to take the Tap-Out much more seriously. Now she realizes that the crisis goes far beyond her family or even her neighborhood; it involves much larger organizations, like the government and military.

“As far as authority is concerned, calm people quietly dying is a lot easier to deal with than angry people fighting for their lives.”

Kelton, Alyssa, and Garrett have been watching the news on TV, but Garrett turns it off. When Alyssa tries to point out that people should stay calm, Garrett says that the people on the Titanic were told to stay calm. In this quote, Kelton agrees with Garrett’s sentiment. He thinks pessimistically about the role of authority in crisis, expecting that organizations like the government are more interested in their own ease and power than in actual lives. 

“I reach into a side pocket of my own backpack and pull out the compact cartridge of bullets. The magazine, Kelton had called it. I look at it. Think hard about it. It represents everything that I hate about the world. But this isn’t the same world it was yesterday. Finally I hand him the magazine, then I start pedaling again, because I don’t want to see him snapping it into the pistol.”

Alyssa, who has grown up in a world relatively safe as compared to the Tap-Out, used to hate guns and what they did. However, by this point in the novel, Alyssa has begun to adjust to her new reality, realizing that the morals she held before the Tap-Out might need to change so that she can survive. Still, though, the adjustment is difficult. Even though Alyssa is willing to let guns be used now, she prefers to look away so that she won’t have to see one loaded herself.

“And I’m suddenly hit with this strange sensation, like there’s an emergency alarm echoing in my head, and my brain is helpless to identify its source. But as this boy wipes the spittle from his cheek with his free hand, the awful feeling becomes identifiable. It’s a horror that make me sick to my stomach. I know what he’s about to do before he does it. He looks at his fingers, glistening with my spittle…and he licks it off.”

When Alyssa, Kelton, and Garrett go to the beach to look for Alyssa and Garrett’s parents, they run into a gang of already-dehydrated teenage boys harassing an older man. Alyssa’s first impulse is to jump in and defend the man, but she’s no match for the boys. When she spits at a boy, she realizes that he’s so desperately thirsty that he’s going to lick up her saliva. This grossly egregious violation of normal social conventions and boundaries shows how extreme this boy’s thirst is.

“There’s this thing that happens with a mob. It’s called ‘deindividuation.’ It’s the kind of thing that happens when a cop puts on a uniform, or when you wear a pair of sunglasses so people can’t quite see your eyes. It’s like you slip out of your normal self—and it makes you feel different. Behave different. So what happens when you’re just another thirsty soul in a sea of water-zombies? You become one.”

When Jacqui thinks about the riot that happened on the beach, she thinks about how a group of people quickly devolved into an angry, violent mob. No one person was to blame for this devolution. Given their extreme need for water, the people on the beach fell victim to larger social forces like deindividuation, which transformed them from regular people into a category that Jacqui and the other kids call “water-zombies.”

“But behind us the dogs have started barking, and I can’t tell if they’re pursuing us into the street, or just chasing us from their territory. So I pull Garrett along, knowing that I can’t take the time to explain to him. That Kingston, a dog that, under any other circumstances, would have been loyal to the end, made an instinctive choice for his own survival.”

After the kids return from the beach to the Morrow house, Alyssa and Garrett face a major betrayal. Their beloved dog, Kingston, has broken ties with his devoted owners, siding instead with the neighborhood dogs for his own survival. Since the human-dog bond is sacred, Kingston’s willingness to break it shows that the Tap-Out reaches beyond the human world and into the animal one. All living beings are subject to the same need for water, and therefore all bonds can break down.

“As a kid you idolize your parents. You think they’re perfect, because they’re the yardstick by which you measure the rest of the world, and yourself. Then as a teenager they just piss you off, because you realize that not only are they not perfect, but they may be even a little more screwed up than you. But there’s that moment when you realize they’re not superheroes, or villains. They’re painfully, unforgivably human. The question is, can you forgive them for being human anyway?”

Kelton’s dad has decided that the McCrackens will leave their home, abandoning Alyssa, Garrett, and Jacqui, and leaving behind Kelton’s older brother, Brady. Here, Kelton realizes that his father has developed a tough exterior because of his inner fear for his family, a fear that’s making him desperate. Even though Kelton has disagreed with his father before, this is the first time that he truly faces the fact that his father is just as subject to human flaws as he is. For a kid, this represents a huge and difficult stage in growing up.

“It’s all happening just as all the books on prepping said it would. I take no comfort in that. Not even a little. Doomsday scenarios are only fun when doomsday is just a hypothetical. Now I wish that they were all wrong.”

When the government declares martial law in the Los Angeles area, Kelton isn’t surprised. This still follows the plan that he and his family have prepared their whole lives for. However, Kelton now begins to realize that training differs from reality. Whereas he enjoyed being a prepper during normal times, playing with guns and surveillance equipment and survival plans, now that the risk is real, those tools no longer hold the same enjoyment.

“The place was a lightning rod in a shit storm, and they couldn’t see it. Well, what do you expect when you bunk up with a family of angry nerds? That’s what Kelton’s family is. Nerds who traded in their Comic-Con passes for gun show tickets. Instead of Star Trek trivia, they could probably tell me about every application of a weapon, yet could never even begin to fathom what it feels like to actually end a human life.”

Jacqui doesn’t think highly of the McCrackens’ form of prepping. While they’ve focused on gathering the necessary equipment to survive disaster, Jacqui quickly notices that they’ve neglected any kind of social preparation. Their house, for example, flaunts their wealth in resources, provoking envy in their neighbors. To Jacqui, this proves that the McCrackens aren’t truly prepared for disaster—and certainly not for making the tough decisions that she knows one must make during a crisis.

“Just outside the Dove Canyon gate is a fountain. When the drought was just a normal drought, before the intense water restrictions, the fountain attracted mountain lions. They came out of the hills like house cats to a water bowl. That really should have been a red flag to anyone who was paying attention. Then people began abandoning farming communities in California’s Central Valley, when it became the Pacific Dust Bowl, overcrowding the already overcrowded cities, like the big cats abandoning the dry hills. As much of a warning as that was, it still didn’t sink in as deeply as it should have—because the official responses were, well, literally, a drop in the bucket.”

When Alyssa drives into Dove Canyon with Jacqui, Kelton, and Garrett, she thinks about the development of the drought and society’s failure to respond to it adequately. Alyssa outlines the many clear warning signs before the Tap-Out, including drought, changes in wildlife behavior, and large population movement. Despite these warning signs, however, authorities neglected to enact real change and prevent the worst-case scenario (which is the Tap-Out). In thinking this, Alyssa clearly places blame at the societal rather than the individual level.

“There’s a shot of FEMA officials—actual FEMA, not just their reserve volunteers—handing out water in an evacuation center, but a wider shot reveals more crowds than they can possibly handle. Rock stars plan relief concerts to raise funds. Celebrities promote charities. All the usual self-congratulatory stuff. The only difference is that we’re the victims now, rather than the ones sitting comfortably in our homes, sending five bucks on a charity app and patting ourselves on the back because we’re so goddamn generous.”

At Henry’s house, the TV news gives the kids insight into how those outside California are reacting to the Tap-Out. Jacqui is used to seeing these kinds of attempts at aid on TV in previous disasters, none of which have affected her personally, but it’s a far different and stranger experience to view it now from the inside out. This makes Jacqui realize how fake and inadequate aid can be—not only celebrity aid but that from the government too.

“You’ve got to do something you’ve never done, to have something you’ve never had.”

In a snapshot of a group of refugees in a Target parking lot, teenager Hali feels ill-prepared to deal with the Tap-Out. Without any resources of her own, she has resorted to trading favors with others in exchange for water. This isn’t enough, however. She turns to this inspirational quote she once heard to give her the drive to go on and find new ways of getting water. By the end of the snapshot, Hali resorts to trading sex with an older man for water, showing how hopeless she feels and how willing some people, like the older man, are to manipulate the hopeless and in-need for their own benefit.

“Do you know the concept of social triage? No? Because I do. In a mass emergency, you help the ones you can, and the ones you can’t help, you move out of the way.”

Momentarily side-tracked at an evacuation center on their way to the bug-out, the kids observe the center’s dangers and inadequacies. Kelton feels pessimistic in the face of this enormous tragedy-in-the-making. At this stage of the crisis, government bodies don’t have the resources to care about individual human lives anymore—they must resort to this rough and exacting method of social triage.

“It took a while for him to realize that such a semblance of peace was the biggest indication of how bad things had really become.”

In this snapshot from Dove Canyon, Alyssa and Garrett’s uncle thinks about how the situation has devolved in this neighborhood. Riots and other forms of violence might be the most obvious dangers during a crisis, but he now realizes that other, quieter but still pernicious forces exact fear. While he and his girlfriend thought they were safe in a neighborhood that supposedly had extra water, that water made them sick before they could even realize the danger they were in.

“As we travel this expansive concrete channel, it feels to me like the world has torn in two, and we’re traveling the seam of that tear. The chasm between what was, and what will be. We’re no longer part of any world. Or at least I’m not. Everything that used to mean something to me is on the outside, hopelessly out of reach. I think about my brother. I think about my parents. I feel numb now. Like how, after a really big burn, once the pain subsides, you lose all sensation in the spot. That’s because the nerve endings are dead. And yet, I think right now the best place for me to be is the chasm between the tattered edges of life as we knew it.”

In this period of cognitive dissonance, Kelton’s actions begin to catch up with him. While the kids drive toward the bug-out, momentarily out of danger’s way, he has time to reflect on how quickly and severely his life is changing. Kelton compares the shock of this change to an oxymoronic, painless wound. Seeing his brother die and leaving his parents behind was a big enough wound to Kelton’s psyche that the pain hasn’t yet caught up to him. Until this pain—which represents the transition in Kelton’s world—reaches him, he can’t fully move into the new reality of his Tap-Out.

“I feel the need to enlighten them. ‘Communism only works in theory, and goes against human nature. This place won’t last.’

‘It doesn’t have to,’ Alyssa points out. ‘Only until the crisis is over.’

‘They’ll turn on each other,’ Jacqui says. ‘Everyone does eventually.’

Alyssa throws her a glare. ‘Everyone like you, maybe.’

‘Oh, are you gonna tell me your neighbors weren’t like these people? Fine, upstanding citizens until they started eating their young?’

I glance to Garrett, who just shakes his head knowingly at me. Jacqui and Alyssa will never agree on anything.

‘People suck,’ Kelton says, adding his own two cents. ‘Always have, always will.’

‘I don’t see it like that,’ Alyssa says. ‘People might do whatever they can to survive, but once they don’t have to worry about that, they’re different.’

‘Sometimes,’ Kelton argues. ‘Sometimes not. Some people are always like that and just pretend to be civil.’”

Here, the kids are in Charity’s peaceful commune, discussing their various views on Charity’s future success. Henry, who begins, is capitalist-minded as usual. Since he doesn’t care about other people, he can’t envision a world in which a community supports itself through mutual kindness. Alyssa, still an optimist, defends Charity’s encampment to the others. Jacqui and Kelton are, like Henry, pessimists, although of different sorts. Jacqui thinks that all people have a propensity for violence, while Kelton thinks that enough violent people exist to overshadow the peaceful ones.

“The sight of the pamphlets his me like radiation. That is to say, I feel the sudden blast of this terrible truth, yet I know the full ramification of it hasn’t settled in yet.”

This passage marks the moment when Henry’s betrayal of the group begins to hit Alyssa. In this moment, the kids discover that the bug-out has no water, and even worse, that the emergency supply of water Henry traded to join their group turns out to just be a box of pamphlets. This devastation of hope is so great that although Alyssa understands it in her mind, truly feeling it takes much longer. The slow burn, like radiation, is much more devastating than a quick hit and shows how deep Henry’s betrayal and violation run.

“The worst part about doing something inexcusable is that you can never take it back. It’s like breaking glass. It can’t unbreak. The best you can do is sweep it up, and hope you don’t step on the slivers you left behind.”

Here, Kelton deals with the aftermath of Alyssa—his now-friend and longtime crush—finding out that he used to spy on her. Although Kelton regrets his previous actions, he didn’t regret them enough earlier to tell Alyssa himself—she found out through Henry’s manipulations. Kelton understands that no words or apologies could ever reverse the harm that he has done to Alyssa. However, his outlook on the situation seems more concerned with his own suffering than any that Alyssa felt after learning how he violated her privacy. In addition, Kelton hopes not to incur further harm himself due to any smaller issues that might arise from his secret becoming public yet doesn’t consider how his previous actions might continue to affect Alyssa.

“Well, none of us are sweating anymore. And we’re not second-guessing each other either. We’re finally in that single-minded place where we do what we have to do, whatever it is.”

Now that Henry is out of the group, its dynamics improve and are better than they were even before Henry joined. The demands of their situation—the combination of increasingly desperate thirst, suffering betrayal, and feeling the acute danger of menacing men—transforms the kids into a well-oiled machine. They’re able to rise above their personal disagreements to work toward the unifying goal of finding water and surviving.

“It’s the gust at my back whispering my name, the burning breeze at my cheeks. The same wind I’ve always felt my entire life—the Call of the Void—but now it surges not just before me but all around me with self-satisfied omnipotence. And for the first time, it actually scares me. I’ve let the void taunt me and tempt me all my life. I will not let it take me. Finally, with all that is left in me, I will fight back against it!”

In her final act of desperation, Jacqui sprints through a tunnel of fire to find the water she believes is at the other end. Here, fire represents an even more immediate death than thirst, yet Jacqui’s thirst is so great that she’ll risk death by fire to quench it. Being so close to death brings Jacqui’s mind again to the call of the void and her long-standing fascination with death. However, Jacqui now realizes that she truly doesn’t want to die, so she resists the call.