CHARACTER
Dryby Jarrod Shusterman and Neal Shusterman

Dalton

Dalton

Quick Facts

Dalton is a 17-year-old “Snapshot” point-of-view character who later reappears as an antagonist on Laguna Beach. First seen at John Wayne Airport attempting to fly with his mother and little sister, Sarah, to his father’s home in Portland, he embodies a failed escape as systems collapse. Distinct look: bleached “weed-whacked” hair, multiple facial piercings, and a biohazard neck tattoo. Key relationships: his younger sister Sarah, his mother, Alyssa Morrow (whom he later menaces), and Jacqui Costa (who intervenes to stop him).

Who They Are

Dalton is both a frightened older brother and a chilling emblem of how quickly civility can erode. Introduced as a resourceful teen trying to shepherd his family out of danger, he becomes a walking case study in the theme of Human Nature: Civility vs. Savagery: when scarcity bites, compassion contracts and predation expands. By the time Alyssa encounters him, his body is a billboard of thirst—cracked, bleeding lips; ashen skin; foamy corners of the mouth—and his choices have narrowed to a single, feral priority: water at any cost.

His biohazard tattoo, once a rebellious accessory, turns grimly ironic. In the Tap-Out, he doesn’t just carry danger; he is it—an ethical contaminant whose desperation infects everyone he meets.

Personality & Traits

Dalton’s personality swings from protective to predatory, mapping how thirst distorts judgment. Before the Tap-Out tightens, he’s quick-witted and snarky; after, he channels that same assertiveness into violence and self-justification—an arc powered by Survival and Desperation.

  • Protective older brother: At the airport, he humors seven-year-old Sarah and tries to leverage her charm to get them on oversold flights, putting family first.
  • Cynical edge: When a TSA agent asks a banal question, he snaps, “Last time I checked,” flashing sardonic defiance at authority.
  • Hopeful planner: He clings to the idea that Portland (and his father) equals safety, proof he’s still thinking in terms of plans and systems—until the systems stop working.
  • Desperate and aggressive: On the beach, he assaults an older man for a hidden bottle, then turns on Alyssa, reducing her to a reservoir: “You’re sweating… Which means you’ve been drinking water… Where is it?”
  • Savage impulse: After Alyssa spits in his face, he studies the moisture on his fingers and licks it off—an instinctive, primal act that eclipses shame.
  • Self-justifying: He frames theft and assault as moral claims—his “right” to water—recasting violence as necessity.
  • Rebellious aesthetic as foreshadowing: Bleached hair, piercings, and a biohazard tattoo set him up as a boundary-pusher; in crisis, those boundaries disappear.
  • Physiology driving psychology: The “leprous gray” skin and “rabid” look aren’t just visuals; they’re cues that his body’s collapse is warping his ethics.

Character Journey

Dalton’s arc is a plunge, not a climb. It begins with an airport “Snapshot” in which he plays the capable teen trying to solve an adult problem—get Mom and Sarah out, get to Dad, keep everyone safe. But the airport is a microcosm of collapse: flights oversold, fuel dwindling, rules unraveling. That failure doesn’t merely strand him; it strips him of the illusion that order will save them. When he resurfaces on the beach, the gap between who he was and who he is feels brutally short—days, maybe hours—yet morally vast. He’s lost his family, his plan, and his inhibitions. The book calls him a “water-zombie,” but the label matters less than the revelation: it doesn’t take long for thirst to turn a protector into a predator.

Key Relationships

  • Sarah: Dalton’s tenderness toward Sarah frames his early identity; she’s the reason he jokes, negotiates, and hustles at the airport. Later, her absence (and his failure to protect her) curdles into desperation, turning familial love into fuel for violence.

  • Alyssa Morrow: At Laguna Beach, Dalton becomes Alyssa’s stark antagonist—he doesn’t see a person, only liquid access. Their confrontation forces Alyssa to recognize that moral lines have shifted underfoot; Dalton functions as her mirror-in-reverse, showing who she could become if she let thirst make her choices.

  • Jacqui Costa: Jacqui cuts through the chaos with immediate, lethal clarity, treating Dalton as a “water-zombie,” not a person to negotiate with. Her intervention spotlights the cold calculus of survival and draws a line Dalton can’t cross without consequence.

Defining Moments

Dalton’s most important scenes track the unraveling of systems and self.

  • Stranded at John Wayne Airport: Repeatedly bumped from oversold flights as jet fuel runs out. Why it matters: It proves there is no orderly escape—and marks the first crack in Dalton’s faith that adult systems will catch him and his family.
  • Beating an older man for a bottle: On Laguna Beach, he and his friends attack a stranger for his hidden water. Why it matters: Theft becomes communal and righteous in his mind; violence is repackaged as fairness.
  • “You’re sweating… Where is it?”: Dalton recalculates Alyssa as a moving target of hydration. Why it matters: It distills his new logic—bodies are resources, not lives—and shifts the scene into predator–prey territory.
  • Licking Alyssa’s spittle: He stares at the droplets and consumes them. Why it matters: A visceral emblem of the death of shame; thirst has colonized his instincts.
  • Plea for his family: “Please … my mom and sister—they’re counting on me…” Why it matters: The last thread to his former self becomes a manipulative tool, blurring empathy and coercion.

Essential Quotes

“Do you know what this asshole did?” yells the blue-eyed kid. “We saw him hide a bottle of water in his car! And he won’t share a drop of it!”

This accusation reframes hoarding as a social crime and primes the group for violence. Dalton’s participation in this mob logic shows how quickly scarcity breeds moral consensus for theft.

“You’re sweating,” he says. “Which means you’ve been drinking water… Where is it?”

Dalton’s observation turns Alyssa’s body into evidence and target, compressing desire, logic, and threat into a single line. It’s the language of calculus, not conscience—proof that survival has replaced empathy as his operating system.

He looks at his fingers, glistening with my spittle … and he licks it off.

The image is grotesque because it erases the boundary between self and other; Alyssa’s spit becomes his sustenance. It’s the moment Dalton’s thirst eclipses dignity, cementing his “water-zombie” status.

“Do it, or I swear I’ll suck it right out of you!”

This vampiric threat literalizes predation—water is blood, and people are vessels. Dalton’s language reveals how fully he has dehumanized others to justify taking what he needs.

“Please … my mom and sister – they’re counting on me to bring back water. If you kill me, you kill them, too!”

The plea is both genuine and strategic, fusing the remnant of the protective brother with the manipulator the crisis has formed. It reminds us that Dalton’s villainy is born from love as much as fear—making him more unsettling, not less.