Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - BOOCarz

I felt numb, disconnected. It was too strange. Was
someone playing a joke on me, I wondered—a weird,
unfunny joke?
“And there weren’t any survivors at all?” Martin
asked.
The old man thought for a moment, his gaze drifting
up to the ceiling. “Now that you mention it,” he said, “I
reckon there were. Just one. A young man, not much
older than this boy here.” His rocking stopped as he
remembered it. “Walked into town the morning after
with not a scratch upon him. Hardly seemed perturbed
at all, considering he’d just seen all his mates go to
their reward. It was the queerest thing.”
“He was probably in shock,” Martin said.
“I shouldn’t wonder,” replied Oggie. “He spoke only
once, to ask my father when the next boat was leaving
for the mainland. Said he wanted to take up arms
directly and kill the damned monsters who murdered
his people.”
Oggie’s story was nearly as far-fetched as the ones
Grandpa Portman used to tell, and yet I had no reason
to doubt him.
“I knew him,” I said. “He was my grandfather.”
They looked at me, astonished. “Well,” Billy said.
“I’ll be blessed.”
I excused myself and stood up. Martin, remarking
that I seemed out of sorts, offered to walk me back to
the pub, but I declined. I needed to be alone with my
thoughts. “Come and see me soon, then,” he said,
and I promised I would.
I took the long way back, past the swaying lights of
the harbor, the air heavy with brine and with chimney
smoke from a hundred hearth fires. I walked to the
end of a dock and watched the moon rise over the
water, imagining my grandfather standing there on
that awful morning after, numb with shock, waiting for
a boat that would take him away from all the death