22The Monster in MeThe refugees had been floating down the river for weeks. They were in a sea-going tug. Large, thick, and rugged, it was built to last, but looked like it had seen a few hard times. Massive scorch marks scarred the starboard side, and what looked like a bomb had gone off in the wheelhouse ripping a jagged hole into its wall and roof.
The vessel flew a Canadian flag and listlessly rode the gentle waves of Lake St. Clair after being discharged into the placid waters from the currents of the river. Without rain, water levels had fallen dramatically of late and reduced the waves to nothing more than kitten licks. The tug floated in no particular direction, spinning in slow aimless circles.
Under Kevin’s command, the Unit had been monitoring the progress of the boat for a co
