Pakistan, July 1 -- The monsoon arrived not with warning, but with vengeance. It had rained the night before-nothing extraordinary at first, just a steady rhythm of water tapping on rooftops, filling the valley's silence. In the village nestled within the lush, deceptive serenity of Swat, the people were used to rain.

But this time, the sky wasn't weeping-it was breaking open. And no one was ready for what poured out of it.

Fifteen members of the same family-spanning three generations-awoke to the sound of rushing water. First, it was under the doors. Then it was at their feet. And in what felt like minutes, it was at their waists, then necks. Screams tore through the night, mingling with the roar of the rising river.

They ran-wherever...