Splitting a Match

Revenge

10.

[Time: 2:25pm]

[Location: Seattle Ferry Terminal Seattle, Pangaea]

[Three months later: December 1, 2097]

The old ferry croaked up to the dock, groaning and straining with every movement. It used to be colored green and white, but over almost 50 years of being in the ocean, which was obviously salty, it had rusted away terribly. The paint had chipped or rusted off long ago, so it looked like a literal rust bucket floating up to the ancient pylons.

The reverse propellers kicked in with a harsh roar, and foamy green water was pushed out the front of the ship. It slowed down, and then bumped against the rubber-coated pylons that made up the landing zone. Several large pieces of ship came off with the collision, falling into the water with a splash and coloring the water rust.

I searched the deck, crowded with people, for the face I was looking for. After three long, heart-wrenching, terrifying months, we received the news that Krys was safe and was returning home. Later, further information was sent to us regarding the date and time that she would arrive.

More people pressed around me, trying to get closer to their loved ones. A man in front of me began yelling his son's name.

"Tommy! Tommy! Over here!" he called, his voice cracking with sobs. He waved his arms frantically over his head and began jumping up and down.

From the deck, I saw a young boy of about thirteen leap into the air and scream "Dad!" They both started to run through the crowd to the exit of the ferry.

Tears began to well up in my eyes and my heart pumped faster and faster with anticipation.

It had been a long three months. With no news and no updates from the day Krys was taken away, we could only hold onto shreds of hope that she was even alive.

Dad, especially, had a hard time. He seemed to have his energy sapped out of him from the moment she was taken. Only until we heard that Krys was alive that Dad seemed to revive. He still went to work and participated in family activities, but he was definitely not the same.

And then a week ago, he came out of his room after a long video call, red-eyed but with a rare smile on his face. He gathered our family together and then announced to us, with a joyful shout, the glorious news! We whooped and jumped around the room, then went screaming out of our door, and to the surprise of both ourselves and our neighbors, burst in our neighbor's door and then gave our astonished hosts huge hugs.

And I still didn't know their names. We had left their house a little sheepishly, to put it mildly.

Now, I searched the old ferry deck for my sister. Alessa, who was standing right beside me, grabbed my arm and started jumping up and down excitedly.

"Where's Krys? Where's Krys?" she chanted in time with her jumps.

I couldn't help but smile at my little sister's excitement. I was excited too, but cautiously. I knew Krys would act differently, and I didn't know what to expect, so my excitement was mixed with a dose of trepidation. Would she be overjoyed? Somber? Angry? I had no idea.

The people on the ferry began to file off the deck and into the terminal. Nearly all of them were greeted with shouts of joy, tears, and hugs. Some families were loud, some were quiet.