From the start of the disaster strike, the internet connection had been severed, so none of them had the faintest idea of what was happening inland.
They had speculated, argued, and clung to naïve hopes that perhaps things weren't too bad... that maybe the city would still be standing, that authorities would have control, that life would continue as it once did.
As they stepped off the battered vessel, their illusions shattered in an instant.
The air was heavy with a metallic tang. The salty breeze that should have brought relief instead carried the rancid stench of blood and burnt flesh. The once bustling coastal town looked like a corpse, broken, mangled, and lifeless. The docks had splintered as though a monstrous hand had clawed them apart. Salt water still surged in shallow waves across the streets, dragging along the debris and shattered carts, children's toys, chunks of wood, and glass.
