AT DAWN THE next morning, Lamont and Margo walked slowly toward the place where they had spent more than a century of their lives.
“Lamont,” said Margo. “In case you’ve forgotten, I really hate this neighborhood.”
“We won’t stay long, I promise,” said Lamont.
The warehouse foundation was still smoldering. The blast had collapsed the south wall of the building next door and reached all the way to the river. The wooden docks were shattered and the ghost ships had been blown apart. The ruins of Khan’s power.
Lamont knew Khan wasn’t really defeated. Somehow, he’d find a different realm where he could gather his strength and return in a new form—more dangerous than before. The difference in Lamont’s world was that he now had a family to protect. And a great-great-great-great-granddaughter to teach. That thought alone made his head spin. He also had a life partner whom he didn’t intend to lose ever again.
“This place gives me the creeps,” said Margo. “Why are we here?”
“I’m looking for something,” said Lamont. “It’s a long shot. But it might still be here.”
“Please,” said Margo. “There’s nothing left. Let’s go.”
It was high tide and the water was almost lapping at what was left of the entry steps to the lab. In the explosion, the second floor of the warehouse had pancaked down onto the ground floor. Pieces of the massive stove were scattered among tangles of wire and lab equipment. At the center of the wreckage, part of the vault was still standing, its walls twisted from the heat.
Lamont stepped onto the smoking pile, but Margo refused to go any farther.
“Lamont,” she said. “Stop! You’ll step on a nail and get lockjaw!”
Lamont scanned the splintered flooring, the collapsed walls, the bent pipes. Lying near the center was a cluster of charred blankets. Their bed. Lamont stood in debris up to his ankles as he pawed through the scraps of cloth and wood nearby. His hands were scratched and covered in soot.
Then suddenly, against all odds, there it was—an object so small that only a trained detective would have spotted it. Lamont reached carefully into the debris to pull it out, then closed his hand around it.
“Lamont!” Margo called out. “This is no time for souvenirs!”
Lamont moved carefully through the wreckage on his way back toward her. For a moment, he thought about walking her to a different location. But in a way, this place felt completely right. It was where his life—and hers—had started again.
“Believe it or not,” he said, “I found what I came for.”
“What are you talking about?” said Margo.
Lamont got down on one knee on the cement step. He opened his hand and held up a diamond ring.
Margo gasped. Her eyes opened wide.
“Margo Lane,” said Lamont, “will you…?”
She didn’t even let him finish the question.
“Yes!” she said. “Absolutely! Yes!”
Lamont smiled. “You don’t want to wait and think it over?”
Margo shook her head as the tears began to come.
“Lamont,” she said. “I think we’ve waited long enough.”
She held out her left hand. Lamont slipped the ring onto her finger. Then he stood up and wrapped his arms around her. When she tipped her face up to kiss him, he couldn’t believe how beautiful she was, and how much he loved her.
It was the happiest he’d been in, well, over a hundred years.