He saw more armed men, militia and soldiers standing watch over the lines and guiding the survivors to the boats. Karina stood beside him. “It could have been different,” she said.
“Your people made that choice, not mine.”
She nodded and moved ahead. Jacob rolled his shoulders and followed her. He found the back of the lines and moved past them, continuing on to a group of soldiers near the head of a pier. Men with clipboards were taking a head count of families before leading them down the pier to waiting passenger ferries. Jacob recognized the unit patch from Meaford and stepped close to the soldier.
“I’m looking for a woman and her daughter.”
The soldier looked up at him with a cross expression; he waved the clipboard at the long line of people. “Take your pick.”
Jacob nodded his head and exhaled, beginning to turn away.
“Hold up,” the man said, putting a hand on Jacob’s shoulder. He pointed to a small ticket office at the head of the pier. “Check in at the office. We turn these registers into Laura; she’s been keeping track of everyone board—”
“Wait,” Jacob interrupted, his face breaking into a smile. He grabbed the man by both shoulders. “Laura, is that what you said her name was?”
The man nodded. “Yeah…” He looked at Jacob as recollection filled his eyes. “As a matter of fact, she has a little girl too. Nahh, man, you gotta be shitting me. That’s who you’re looking for?”
Jacob spun away. Dropping his pack, he ran for the ticket office placed just to the right of the pier walkway. Jacob moved around piles of luggage and empty boxes. The building was square and painted white; the front held a glass ticket counter, the glass now covered with heavy cardboard. Jacob skirted around the building and found a small door where a soldier stood outside it, smoking a cigarette. He saw Jacob approach and eyed up at him.
“Something I can—Anderson?!” Masterson said, looking at him with shock. “How in the hell…? Are the others with you?”
Jacob shook his head. “Is she in there?” Jacob asked.
Masterson flipped his cigarette into the water and turned back. He reached behind him, opened the door, and allowed Jacob to move ahead of him. Inside, the room was low lit and dusty. A tired sergeant sat behind a desk, going over charts and stacks of papers, and a second man lay sleeping on a bench with his rifle and rucksack beside him.
“Through that door,” Masterson said, pointing to a door set into the back of the room, Manager stenciled on the old wood.
Speechless now, he felt the anticipation building in his guts. He stepped to the door and grabbed the knob. Pausing, he took a deep breath and pushed the door in, following it into the room. She was there, going over stacks of papers and transposing names into a large journal book. She heard the door but didn’t look up. “You can set the papers over there,” she said, pointing to a large box filled with the unbound pages.
When Jacob didn’t reply, she looked up and her jaw dropped.
“How…? When…?” she gasped. Pushing away from the desk, she ran to him.
Jacob wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in tight. “I just got here. The men out front told me the way.”
She stood wrapped in his embrace. “I love you,” she said, looking up into his stubbled and scarred face. Pressing her close to him, he kissed her, and for the moment they were safe and far away.
“How did you get here?”
“Kiss me again,” she said.
He met her lips, closing his eyes and letting the warmth of the room take him. He felt a tug and heard a call from Katy. He dropped to her level and lifted her in a tight hug. “Daddy! You’re back,” she said, tears in her eyes.
“I’m back, Katy,” he said, the three of them now wrapped up together.
Epilogue
On a cold pre-dawn morning, water slapped against the sides of a tall, double-decked cabin cruiser. The boat rested low in the water at the outer edge of the floating refugee camp. Every day, the floating city grew smaller as vessels of every type broke off and plotted a course to move northwest toward Michigan’s Upper Peninsula—the last known safe area for humans.
For reasons unknown, the aliens had stopped moving to the northern parts of the state. Rumors thought it had to do with the dioxin attacks in central Michigan. Others claimed that the creatures were unable to adapt to the cold climates. Some even claimed the creatures had learned a lesson with the losses there, and Jacob suspected the trend had occurred in other areas as well.
Jacob stood at the controls, watching a large fishing trawler pull away, black smoke rising from its stack as white water churned up in the wake of the departing ship. Another group in search of a safe place to start over. He watched as the vessel faded away, hoping they would find the safety they were searching for.
Counting the dwindling number of vessels remaining, he contemplated how long he would be able to wait for them. But after everything they’d done, they deserved his patience. He sat down and looked up at the sky, forgetting how many stars were up there. He would never look at them the same way again. A tracer cut across the horizon, another easily identified as a Karinan vessel. They’d named the alien race—with much objection from her—after their traveling companion. Karina was correct in her predictions of the exodus. Ships were
