I gasped.

“As more bodies are recovered this count continues to soar, and some experts are predicting that the total will surpass one hundred thousand within twenty-four hours. While the vast majority of those who were killed are citizens of the countries hit by the tsunami, there are reports that the death totals include people from more than thirty-seven countries worldwide, including most countries in western Europe, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and, of course, the United States.”

“Beth, are you still there?” Tad asked.

“I’m here,” I mumbled.

“In Indonesia,” the announcer said, “it is estimated that in excess of four hundred thousand people have been left homeless.”

The picture changed to a scene shot from an airplane or helicopter. It showed what looked like the remains of a city. All of the buildings were flattened to the ground as far as the eye could see, from the water’s edge up onto the land for hundreds and hundreds of yards. Then, in the middle, one building remained standing, though destroyed. White concrete posts supported a roof with minarets rising above it—it was a mosque.

“The tsunami hit the coast with a force estimated to be hundreds of times more powerful than the atom bomb that was dropped on Hiroshima,” the announcer said solemnly. “This scene of total devastation was once a thriving town, home to over ten thousand people. Their homes are gone. Their fishing boats are gone. And, as yet, there is no way to know how many lives are also gone.”

The camera continued to scan the landscape. A few people could be seen from the air. Some looked up toward the camera, one even waved, but most seemed to be almost in a trance, wandering amid the wreckage.

“This video was shot by a tourist standing on his fourth-floor balcony in Phuket, Thailand.”

There was a scene of a giant wave racing up the beach. You could see a man talking to somebody, or maybe narrating what he was seeing. I couldn’t tell what language he was speaking, but his voice got louder and more excited as the wave hit the beach and barreled over some palm trees and—

“Oh my God!” I gasped. I recognized the scene.

The water crashed up over the patio and enveloped the pool, carrying everything with it. There were shrieks and the sound of shattering glass and objects shattering together, and the man’s voice got louder and louder and louder.

I reached over and turned the TV off. I could still hear it coming over the phone.

“Turn off your television,” I said to Tad.

“What?”

“Turn off your TV!” I barked.

The sound died almost immediately.

“Beth, I’m sure your parents are okay.”

“That was our resort,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “That’s where we stay.”

There was silence on the other end.

“Our bungalow is just over from the pool…it’s on the beach…right on the beach.”

“Beth, I’m coming down,” Tad said. “I’ll be there in less than two hours.”