Tyler stared at the scene in front of him. He let his hunting rifle drop to his feet, mouth agape. What appeared to be a ship was where his house used to be – that is, that house was still there, what was left of it anyway – some splintered timbers and most of the front porch, the bench swing still rocking from the impact. Above the ruins towered the bow, USS Intrepid stenciled in huge block white letters. He scanned the clearing around his house, looking for something that would tell him that this wasn’t real, some sort of elaborate hoax. But all he could see was the water still dripping off the barnacled hull, the silhouette of the aircraft carrier against the evening sky. That’s when he noticed the men dressed in a rainbow of colors standing along the edge of the deck, returning his look of shock.

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