Sci-fi stories and Twilight Zone-esque situations
ALSO
Listen to the song for this page on the side panel! It adds to the mood :)
One Last Race
It was only fun when it was empty; when all its patrons were gone for the day or, like now, before they'd even thought to set out for its shores. In the early morning hours, two young people dashed towards the lapping waves that welcomed their barefoot and eager bodies like old friends. The both of them had beaten the sun in their haste to get down to that place that was their haven, all so they could relish in the feel of the sugar-white sand under their soles and in the freedom of an entire day at their disposal.
“I love this,” the young woman declared.
She didn't speak very often, as English was not her native tongue, but when she did it was always something to behold for the young man beside her. Words, simple words, flowing from her mouth were musical to him, who was already so blinded by his affection for the girl he'd only met last year.
“Me too,” He amended, still staring at her.
In his distorted mind, there was not a flaw to be seen on her dark-skinned body. To him she was perfect, from the crown of her short, choppy black hair down to her size nine feet.
He watched her as he always did, following her in her basketball shorts and old t-shirt as she darted around, kicking up cool sand and doing somersaults.
“Why don’t we race?” he suggested to her.
Like him, this girl was an avid swimmer and did love to race. It was how they first met, in fact. Here, on this beach one day in the summer.
In response to his words, the girl nodded and broke out in a wide smile. She ran towards the water’s edge and he sprinted after her. He made it first, coincidentally, but she soon came splashing into the water as well. He stood there, with his toes submerged in the silt and small rocks beneath the murky blue depths. This felt good. He waded out until the water was up to his chin and when he glanced around, his crush was there, gazing at him expectantly.
“Now?” She asked, in regards to their race.
“Oh yeah,” he said, “go ahead. Get an early start; you won’t win.”
Her lips curved in a show of non-verbal challenge to that, a beautiful expression that was far too fleeting for his liking. She dove under the water and thus began the first of their many laps back and forth through the watery medium.
“The sun is coming up,” The young man noted.
It was hours later by then and the both of them were still a bit energized. They bobbed in the water several yards from the shore and glanced at each other. The feeling was mutual.
“One more race.” The young man said aloud, affirming the consensus they’d both reached.
This time they really made it count: it was all long strokes and splashing water and kicking feet. The young man easily took the lead, having a bit more confidence in his abilities from his victory in the last race. But the girl was not to be gainsaid, as she proved by picking up the pace and passing him by.
So caught up they were in this race that they didn’t notice how far they’d gone. It was by chance, the young man thought, that he managed to catch a backwards glance of their vast distance. When he did, he paused in his swimming and blinked the salty water from his eyes.
Did we really come that far? I didn't even realize, he mused.
He could still see the sandy expanse of shore from where he was, but barely. Meanwhile, his swimming mate was still going at it. He swam in front of her path and, having been impeded, the girl resurfaced.
Her face was full of confusion. He could see in the way her dark brows bunched over just-as-dark eyes. Her mouth was wet and scrunched up as she took in heavy breaths.
“We should go back,” He said in answer to her obvious befuddlement.
She, too, glanced back then and her eyes widened. A bemused smirk appeared on her face and she tilted her head.
“Does this mean I win?” She asked slowly.
He would’ve responded but there was something else that caught his eye. Something behind her. Where it came from and how it managed to build up to such a great height: those things eluded him, but he did know one thing.
It was a giant wave.
And it was coming right towards them.
His body tensed and kicked into fight-or-flight mode, with his mind bidding him to do the latter. He immediately began backing away from the impending gargantuan. He was no stranger to big surf waves, but this one was absolutely gargantuan. It was easily over 6 or 7 stories tall and the sight of it nearly made him pee his pants.
At first his friend was again perplexed, but one look at the wave had her previous smile giving way to an expression of utter fear. She knew as well as he did that this was probably the largest wave on record that this town, no, this whole state had ever seen. It was huge!
“Come on. Swim under it.” The young man instructed firmly.
She looked at him like he was crazy. He felt crazy. Everything inside of him was imploring him to swim away from the danger, not towards it. But their best chance would be to get under the thing now, before it got big and wait it out. This he knew. Well, knew was a relative word. There was a chance that that wouldn't work, but he was too scared to dwell on that right then.
The girl was shaking and it wasn't from the water’s temperature. Her body had gotten used to that. What she couldn't fathom was being throttled by the very element she usually adored. Like her friend she was incredible frightened but she steeled hers nerves and spread those long brown arms of hers forward. She was swimming but before she really got into it, she made the mistake of looking back. Behind her was the shore, so far away. She vaguely wondered if she’d be seeing it again.
“Come on,” Her friend prompted, “We don’t have much time.”
He led the way, then, towards the coming wave. He could hear his own heart thundering and the blood rushing in his ears but when he started to swim, he blocked these things out. Just as he came upon the big blue menace, he plunged down below the surface.
Deep down he
swam, and before he could reach a distance he felt comfortable with, he felt
the force of the wave hit. It seized his body and flipped him like a rag doll.
He tried not to tense up or panic as he spun out of control.
Just go with the flow, he told himself, just go with the flow, just let it happen.
The wave bore down on him like a thumb pushing an acorn further and further into the ground, and like supple earth, the water below him yielded to the pressure of the aggressive force. His lungs were suffering and his eyes were burning but he yet held his breath and kept his eyes open.
Thirty-eight seconds.
That’s how long it took for the pressure to slacken. Deep under and disoriented, he decided now would be a good time to gain his bearings. Despite his efforts, he had no clue which direction was up, everything looked the same. And to make matters worse, he couldn't see his friend.
Thinking back to something he’d read on the internet, he blew out what bit of air he could spare and followed the bubbles. This would've worked, had he not underestimated his adversary; another, albeit smaller, wave knocked him back under.
By this time
his lungs were on fire and he was seeing stars. Again he was whipped to and fro
and was thus disoriented. He struggled this time, too fearful to act
accordingly with the ways that had been instilled in him from years of
swimming.
Just be calm, stay calm.
That was what one part of him was saying.
I have to get up to the surface, I need air! I don't wanna’ die!
The other, more frantic part of him screamed that as well. He blew out more bubbles and headed for the top. This time he reached the surface and immediately threw his head back, gasping for breath. He was relieved, he would live, but his relief was short-lived.
His friend.
His crush. His secret love. She was still out there, somewhere. He treaded the water around him and spun in a slow circle, giving the area a cursory glance, but she wasn't there. The same blue depths that he used to find so gentle and passive and placid now seemed ominous, foreboding, all-encompassing. The water chilled him to the bone as he was gripped with another shower of fear, this one for his missing friend.
I have to find her, he vowed.
Once, twice, five or six times he dove underwater and scanned different sections for any trace of her. Maybe a foot or hand here, and arm there, a sighting of her short black hair; anything would help. But he saw nothing. And just when he was about to give up, something latched onto his leg.
Using him as leverage, the girl uncaringly broke through the threshold of the water and sucked in greedy gasps of air. She coughed violently, having obviously fared worse than her friend, and shuddered. The young man embraced her at once, holding her steady while she gazed around wildly.
“It’s alright,” He croaked, “We made it.”
His own frame was not much steadier and so
together they trembled. She raised a hand out of the water after some time, and
pointed to the left.
“There,” was all she stated.
He followed her wet digit and saw that strip of tan, lit to an unnatural golden hue in the morning light. It was land, the shore, she’d found it. Though they were both weary and ached all over, the sight was not too far off to deter that sudden surge of joy.
Neither of them hesitated in making that last lap towards the area they presumed to be safe and dry and warm. But, upon reaching the shore, they found it to be just as despondent as the treacherous waters they’d just encountered.
It was with
great reluctance that they stepped from the black waters onto the ground that
could hardly be called ‘sandy’. Like his partially-bilingual friend, the young
man found himself to be lost for words.
Where…where are we? He wondered.
The ground was barren, dry, and full of craters as deep as ten-to-twelve feet. It was as if a giant had taken their finger and had scooped holes all over the place. Not only that, but there wasn't a soul to be found. No benches, towels, sun-bathers, pets, or people were around.
The girl slipped her cold, clammy hand into the young man’s.
“…Look.” She spoke gravely.
He gazed up at the sky where she was pointing but could only do so for so long. After about a second he had to cover his hand over his eyes, for he’d been assaulted by the bright light of the sun.
All four of
them.
No comments:
Post a Comment