“Very,” the smile held. “But family’s the one thing he never walked away from. If the world ended, that island is exactly where he’d be. Waiting.”
Sloane leaned back in her chair. I watched her turn it over—the distance, the risk, the slim thread of hope running through all of it. Her eyes drifted back to the tiny island again.
“And you think we could get there?”
“Eventually,” I said. “Not right away.”
I tapped the aquarium on the map.
“The aquarium is our staging ground. We stock up. We plan the route. We wait for the captain and his son to arrive and figure out what kind of shape their boat is in.”
She nodded slowly.
“Supplies. Fuel. Planning.”
“Exactly.”
Her gaze lingered on that small speck of land three hundred miles north. I watched something shift behind her eyes—not just calculation anymore. Something deeper.
“If that place is set up the way you’re describing…”
I waited.
“…then it’s not just survival.”
“No.”
“It’s a future.”
I nodded once.
“That’s the idea.”
She looked up at me again, searching my face for doubt, for hesitation, for any sign that I was lying. I held her gaze and let her look.
“You honestly think we can make it three hundred miles up the coast?”
I shrugged.
“If the world ended and my brother’s doomsday island is where we are going…”
I took another sip of coffee.
“…I think it’s worth everything we’ve got to try.”
“My plan involves the fishing boat showing up tonight.”
Sloane looked up from the tiny dot that marked Finn Island and frowned.
“TheSS Mariner?”
“Yeah.”
She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms.
“That boat isn’t making it three hundred miles.”
“I know.”