The steel was cold. That was the first thing Ezra noticed. On the island, everything was warm. The sand, the wood, the air. Even the stone Ash had become retained the sun's heat. Here, on the deck of the destroyer Iron Resolve, the metal sucked the warmth from his hands. It was a dead thing. A predator made of iron and diesel.
He stood on the bridge, looking out over the bow. The sea was black. The sky was overcast. No stars to navigate by. Just the hum of the engines vibrating through the soles of his boots. It was a different rhythm than the island's heartbeat. Mechanical. Relentless. Impatient.
Tomas sat in the captain's chair. He was staring at the radar screen. Green sweeps. Blips of light.
"Speed is holding at twenty knots," Tomas said. He didn't look up. His hands hovered over th
