If what gripped you in Dry was Alyssa, Kelton, and Jacqui scrounging for every sip while "water zombies" prowled the suburbs, you'll love how Not a Drop to Drink turns water into the ultimate currency. Like the Tap-Out scenes where neighborhoods turn on each other and the kids must decide who to help (and who to keep out), McGinnis puts a rifle in a teen’s hands and forces split-second survival choices over a single, contested pond. It's the same ruthless calculus—and the same white-knuckle tension—played out day after day.

You watched Southern California crack under the Tap-Out—barbecues turned to bonfires, neighbors into threats, and the road south into a gauntlet—while Alyssa tried to keep Garrett alive and trust Jacqui and Kelton just enough to get them through. Parable of the Sower echoes that collapse: Lauren Olamina walks a burning SoCal, gathers a makeshift family, and forges a philosophy as practical as Kelton’s prepper rules. If the trek and hard-won hope at the end of Dry stayed with you, this will hit even deeper.

If you liked how Dry cycled through Alyssa, Kelton, Jacqui, and even Henry’s scheming—each viewpoint reshaping what you thought the group should do—you’ll appreciate Bacigalupi’s blade-sharp, rotating perspectives. Reporters, fixers, and refugees collide over water rights with the same mix of desperation and moral compromise you saw when Henry bartered away trust and the group had to decide whether to keep him. It’s the Dry crisis grown up and weaponized.

Loved the way Dry never let up—from the first empty tap to the frantic runs for supplies and that panicked flight out of suburbia? This traps a group of teens in a quarantined mall as a bio-threat spreads, ratcheting pressure with the same sprinting pace. Expect scenes that echo the chaos of Dry’s supply scrambles and crowd panics, as alliances form and fracture as fast as Alyssa’s crew had to pivot on the road.

If the darker turn in Dry hooked you—the neighborhood’s slide into violence, Jacqui’s hard-edged pragmatism, and the way mercy could get you killed—this delivers that same grit. A small, uneasy group crosses hostile territory while deciding who counts as human and who gets sacrificed, echoing Alyssa’s toughest calls and Kelton’s survivalist instincts. It’s tense, morally thorny, and unflinching.