Jess was only ten when the first pods washed up on the shore. She'd been standing with her toes dug into the sand, letting the cold Atlantic Ocean swirl around her ankles, daring herself to venture ... [+]
Harold Gates slowed the snow-topped yellow taxi and edged it along the slushy curb to a stop where she stood, shivering in a tattered wool coat in a January blizzard on the steps of her unlit apartment building. He watched as she sidestepped a few crushed beer cans strewn on the sidewalk, pulling open the heavy door and sliding into the backseat. "Evenin', missy." The driver gave his cap a polite lift, showing a shock of white hair matching his thin moustache. "Where to, missy?"A slim hand reached forward with a slip of paper between two fingers.He read it and knuckled up his cap and scratche