FALL

The ferry’s siren blasted loud and long. One last call before lines were pulled and thrusters boosted the ship away from the dock. Harald stood watching, feeling the hairs on his arm, on the back of his neck rise—emotion catching him off guard, unwelcome. He raised a hand, not to anyone in particular. Along the railing stood the men and women whose last-minute choice to leave still surprised him. Some had been counted on to contribute. Yet here they were, vanishing into an unknown no less bleak than the future they were leaving behind.

Harald turned away from the dock and lifted his gaze back toward  the town—what remained there. Homes and shops stood boarded, plywood holding back a slow collapse already in motion. The streets were overgrown, pavement cracked and lifted at the edges. But higher, above the rooftops, the windmill still turned, and the sharp glint of sunlight off the solar panels offered a flicker of hope. Doom, it seemed, was still a heartbeat away.