The sand is unrecognizable, a charcoal landscape lit by the stars in a moonless sky and a few stray lights from distant buildings. It’s nearly impossible to tell where the shoreline meets the sea.
Three a.m.
No one else is out here. Most insomniacs are plagued with racing thoughts and fear. For me, it’s a beautiful dream.
Her.
I’m terrified one night I’ll fall asleep and she won’t be there.
But if I can get to the point of pure exhaustion…
I jog. The sand is firm. Great for running. At first, it feels good. Numbness and fatigue melt into a pleasant, warm heat that flows through my body, and all my senses awaken. I can taste the salt, feel the breeze, and smell the ocean. Exhilarated, I push harder, letting the crash of the waves help me find a rhythm to my strides. Pebbles of sweat form at my temples. They’re tactile, cool—proof I’m still awake.
Go harder!
Okay. Let’s do it.
My lungs are burning now, and my short breaths hurt. The pain screams at me, reminding me that I need oxygen to live. Warning me not to push too far. I ignore it and run harder. As hard as I can. There’s the lighthouse ahead. It’s about four milesfrom the motel. Have I climbed the stairs and looked out over the ocean? I really want to do that.
Without warning, my muscles lock. They’re refusing to continue with this insanity. Forcing me down, regardless of whether I choose to stop.
Good.
I collapse a few feet from the sea. A sweet release with no control. No responsibility. Waves wash over me and then retreat, repeating the motion again and again. Stretching my arms across the cool sand, I ignore the tears running down my face. They’ll blend in with my sweat.
Finally. My breathing slows, and I let go.
It’s time to see her again.
Sleep takes over.
I toss my wetsuit into the soak bucket and grab the labeled Whirl-Pak bags sitting in the cockpit to put them in the box on deck. We’ve just finished a recon dive and have been cataloging samples for the past hour. We’re running behind and need to get the skiff back to shore. The field log will have to wait. Shoot. I misplaced the iron samples. “Can you hand me…”
“It’s break time!”
Playful laughter rings out through the air, followed by a loud splash.
I glance up to see her swimming away at a breakneck pace. She’s already about seven meters away.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I take off my shirt to join her. Hesitating, I open my mouth to call her name. But I realize I don’t know it. “Get back on the boat. We’ve still got a ton of work left to do, and we’re already running late.”
“Hey, I’m the boss this time—remember? You told me so.”
“We’ve got to head back to the dock. We’re about to lose daylight. Come on.”
She’s got to be close to fifteen meters away now. Her bright silver-blonde hair looks darker when it’s wet and lies flat against her head. Still, I can see her blue eyes from here. Shining. I know her face.
“Relax, sailor. I can see you fidgeting from here. I promise we’ll get our work done.”
“Well, boss—my other boss won’t be pleased if I miss ETR. There’s already no chance I’ll get the field log in today.”
“Since we’re already late. We’ll just be a little later, right? Fifteen minutes?”
“So, you’re gonna make me come get you?”
I’m speaking to her back. She’s ignoring me. Damn it. I turn around to retrieve the anchor when I notice movement in the water. Heading toward her.
A dorsal fin.
