Marfione crossed his arms. I expected attitude, the way Spencer first treated us on the Humvee. Need to know basis and all of that. “They’re not coming with us. They’ve got a different assignment. More to do. They may meet up later. It’s been days. We’re still trying to assess everything,” he said.

“I can’t tell you how good it felt seeing them. When they spotted us,” I said.

Marfione just nodded. He understood. “You guys were lucky. We’re really not finding many people left. This whole thing, it’s kind of out of control. I don’t know how we’re supposed to fix it.”

Fix it. Hadn’t given it that much thought. Was there a way to come back from this? As a society?

“So, what’s the deal? I mean, where are we headed? We can’t be staying at the Coast Guard station. I’m guessing we’re going on a trip or something.”

“We are. Evacuating the area.”

“To somewhere safer?” Allison said. She laced her fingers with mine.

“For the most part. There’s an internment camp set up just outside of Fort Drum. State Park. Military occupied it. Secured the area,” he said.

“Internment camp?” Allison said.

“Relocation war camps,” he said. “Popular in World War II. Mostly along the opposite coast. We took Japanese-Americans, and locked them away,” he said. “Pretty much, they were guilty based on heritage. Couldn’t be trusted. Some were set up here. In New York and some down south.” It was said matter-of-fact. No prejudice in his tone of voice.

“Were they dangerous?”

“Doubt it,” he said, smiled. “You know Americans. Knee-jerk reactions become laws.”

“We have camps like that here in New York?”

“They’ve popped up quite-like all over the last few years. Have a lot of nervous politicians in office. Figure they might need a place to lock away hostile people at some point. Not sure if they had now in mind. They were thinking the places would be needed eventually, I guess. Amazing insight they have, don’t you think?” Marfione removed a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, offered them up.

“I’d love one, if you don’t mind,” I said.

“I don’t. Savor it. Not sure when we’ll find a supply to replenish though, you know?”

I thanked him. “I’m Chase McKinney and this is Allison Little. We were--before all of this, well, we were dispatchers at nine-one-one.”

“Nice,” he said. “Can tell by the uniform shirts.”

Always hated the uniform shirts; baby blue itchy material, decorated in para-police collar brass, nameplate and pointless badge. Meant to change out of it at when I was at the apartment Changed the pants, but things had been too hectic. Had a backpack filled with clothing, but left it when we ran from the Humvee. Here I was, Allison, as well, still donned in work shirts, and she in those irritating navy blue pants.

“Lieutenant Marfione. Matthew Marfione. Friends just call me Marf,” he said. We shook hands. “Let me go check with Spencer to see what’s what. But hey, do me a favor? Guys I just brought in, they’re pretty shaken up. If you can welcome them some, might make a world of difference.”

“We’ll do that, sir,” I said.

“Just Marf. And thank you. I mean it. Whatever’s going on, this world is a worse place than it once was, if you can believe that. Ranks and shit, it don’t mean much anymore. We’ve got to be more concerned about being humans, helping each other. The times, they demand it.” He walked past us.

I stared at my cigarette. I had no way to light it. The lake spray was going to ruin it. If I stuffed it in my pocket, I’d crush it. Regardless, I tucked it behind an ear. It would have to keep. “Want to come with me?” I said.

“You want to go over now?” Allison said.

“He’s right,” I nodded toward Marf. “Why wait?”

Before we could head over, we started to dock alongside a larger craft. The Coast Guard crew on our vessel yelled to the crewman on the other vessel. Lines were tossed and our ships were drawn together.

“Okay, everyone,” Spencer said. “We’re going to move from this boat to the other. One at a time. Coast Guard’s going to assist. You’ll get a life vest once on board. Put it on immediately. Secure it. If you need assistance, Coast Guard will help.”

“Guess it will have to wait,” I said.

The Coast Guard station was a large, old white house with a red roof. A plaque hung above the front door that read: Guardians of the Great Lakes.

“Supplies are loaded,” someone shouted. “Let’s get everyone onto this ship.”

Thunder boomed above us. Through thick grey clouds, I saw a crack of lightning slice the sky.

Chapter Six

1432 hours

The larger Coast Guard vessel was a 47 Motor Life Boat, which carried thirty-eight people and four crewmen safely. We had nine civilians, seven military, and eight Coast Guard crewmen on board. Twenty-four in all.

Cedar Point State Park was up the St. Lawrence. With the weather getting worse, we were informed we’d be traveling at roughly twenty to twenty-two knots.

The Captain of the Coast Guard station explained all of this. He was still talking. I zoned in and out, trying to mostly pay attention. I just wasn’t in much of a mood for a lecture about a boat.

He wore his full get-up. Guess he didn’t look at ranks being nonexistent the way Marf did. Different branches. Guess I could expect as much.

“Even if this thing rolls over, it’s designed to right itself,” Captain Travis Keel said. “And we’ve done it, during training. Tipped her and rolled her. Not here. Not on this lake. Swells never get that big here. Seven feet was the biggest we’ve had on Ontario, best I can recall. So you don’t have to ask. It works. The life jackets, purely precautionary.”

His smile, his laugh--they did little to settle my stomach. The jackets were like ones found on an airplane. Deflated. Pull on the cord, and they inflate. Not sure how big the waves were, but it felt worse below deck.

“We have roughly a five hour voyage ahead. Storm’s going to follow us the whole way. We’re going to try and stay outside of it, but that will only add time. We’re safe. Just isn’t going to be the smoothest ride. Regardless, we’re safe here. The bunks aren’t comfy, but the sheets are clean. I suggest you take advantage of the time and get some rest.”

“Thank you, Captain,” one of the men from the second Humvee said.

When the Captain went up top, the rest of us stared at the steps as if we expected someone else to come down.

I took a deep breath, remembering what Lt. Marfione had said. “Before we choose bunks,” I said, “I want to introduce myself. I’m Chase. My son, Cash, daughter Charlene, and this is my girlfriend. Allison.”

“I’m Dave. Dave Rivera, and this is Sues Melia.”

The man who’d thanked the Captain stood up. “My name is Tim Chatterton.” He had to be about twenty-seven, at least 6’2”. He was dark-skinned with a shaved bald head and a thick beard with no mustache.

We all shook hands.

“Were you two cops?” Chatterton said.

“Worked at nine-one-one. Dispatchers,” Allison said. Worked, she’d said. She understood the gravity of the situation. My shoulders fell. Only had a white t-shirt on underneath or I’d lose the shirt.

The second man waved. “I’m Nicholas Dentino. Nick,” he said. Physically fit, also in his early to mid-twenties and resembled a model who posed for clothing ads in magazines. Short dark hair, set jaw and hazel colored eyes.

I waved back. Shouldn’t hold it against him, but if he wasn’t going to make an effort to shake hands, neither was I. “How’s the arm?” I said.

“Healing, hopefully,” he said, and snickered. Sounded like he was all right, but to look at him, I’d say he was scared. Guess we all were. No shame in that.