The day had been a scorcher from first light. Hot and muggy, mercury in the nineties, sticky shirt weather, underwear clinging to every crease like spandex on a fat person.The sun seemed to have awakened with a grudge against the world and no-one was sad to see it go down. As the molten sphere finally disappeared behind the horizon, it seemed as if a collective sigh of relief rose from the residents of the Cinq Kingdom.
Out at Look Out Point sunset watchers held their breaths half expecting the sun to sizzle and steam as it plunged into the sea. But there was no steam, only a silent explosion of red, orange and pink; then came the honking of horns and applause that rippled over the dunes like opening night at a Broadway musical. The watchers, now satisfied, headed out in to the dusk-leaving a slender blonde leaning on the guard rail of the boardwalk. She stood there staring, listening to the cries of gulls, the roar of the sea and the engines of distant cars; not hearing the sounds of approaching footsteps.
She moved along the soggy boardwalk and descended a short stairway that led to the beach. Walking unsteadily in the soft sand, she picked her way around the rotting hulk of an old wooden fishing boat, stood at the waters edge and savoured the coolness of the light breath of air that whispered off the bay.
The breeze died soon after and the blonde woman turned to go. Before she had taken a step, the cement truck hit her. At least that's what it felt like. Something big and heavy smashed into her back, hurtling her forward like a missile thrown from a catapult.
She sprawled face down, hearing her rasping breath, someone moving behind her, the fishing boat engines mumbling like old men and a radio blasting.
Planting her arms in ankle deep water, she struggled to push herself up into kneeling position. A boot slammed into her right elbow. Hot pain shot through her arm as it crumpled like cellophane. She flopped back into the water. The boot crashed into the side of her head; then again. The lights in the harbor faded into darkness.
Awakened by green waves of nausea, the girl groped for the handhold at the slippery edge of consciousness. After several unsuccessful tries she held on and world came into glassy focus. Her head and arm throbbed with a dull ache. She lay belly-down, her face turned to the flat hard surface that shivered with vibration of an engine.
She was on a boat that much was clear. How the hell? She remembered leaving the boardwalk to wade in the water... then nothing. She tried to move, but her legs were bound securely. Her left arm pinioned to her thigh and her right arm curled uncomfortably by her ear. A weight pressed down on her back. She shuddered as the faint light of comprehension glimmered in the corner of her mind.
Christ! She was wearing a diving gear.
Panic clawed at her innards as she fought to steady the frantic jack-hammering of her heart. She desperately fought against her bonds, but they were incredibly strong. After a few minutes of futile effort, she lay on her stomach panting and exhausted.
The engine pitch had changed and out of nowhere, hands reached down and grabbed her under the armpits. She was dragged a short distance and put to sit so that her fins dangled over the side of the deck.
"No!" she shouted.
A boot thudded against her back; she teetered for a terrifying moment before the boot battered her again. She dropped head-first into the chill of the sea. A hoarse scream escaping her throat but the sound was lost in a gargle of bubbles.
She began to sink into blackness. The immense weight of the sea closed in, welcoming her into a killing embrace that crushed her useless lungs. Daggers of pain stabbed her ear canals; she continued to sink. The contractions of her dying body had come to a fitful halt by the time she had landed on the soft bottom. The impact stirred a cloud of silt and sent crabs scuttling for safety. The body settled into the thick grassy carpet of vegetation. In time, the cloud subsided, the crabs returned, and the body rested quietly into its lightless cradle, becoming one with its surroundings. Then, brushed by gentle current, the long pale strands of hair began to rise and fall, rise and fall, moving in rhythmic concert with undulating fingers of seaweed.