And then Nina appeared, sweat slickened and breathing at a tremendous pace. She ran with her skirt scrunched in her hand, toward the landslide rather than away from it. “Nina!” Patrick shouted. Scrambling for her, through the river of scattering bodies. “NINA! STOP!” But Nina was now clear of the crush. She clambered over the fence, her dress ripping. She grounded her feet in the grass and lifted her chin, as though the wave of mud about to eclipse her was an old friend and she was there to greet it. The earth shook.
