Beware the Tide...

The ebb and flow of the morning tide finally jostled her awake. Sally didn't generally make a habit of sleeping on the boat, but Jonathan had pushed her over the edge. Too many times she'd warned him that his drinking was going to get him into trouble, and she'd warned him for the last time. Tensions had escalated even before she stormed out of the bar, and she had no idea just how far things had gone after she'd left.

 

At the moment she didn't care. The only though on her mind was making it to the head before the undulating waters caused her to expel whatever remained in her stomach from the night before. She did, thankfully, but didn't emerge from the tiny bathroom until she'd brushed her teeth three times. The sun shone brightly, reminding her that she too had consumed far more alcohol than her body could bear during the prior evening's escapade. Hang overs were usually few and far between for her, and this one was a doozy.

 

It took her a moment to adjust to the glare as she emerged from the cabin to the deck. The marina was relatively quiet – the fishing boats from the other side of the small harbor had long since left for the feeding grounds. There was something odd, though. The other, recreational sailors, who would normally be readying their vessels for a day of leisure, were nowhere to be seen. In fact, there didn't appear to be another living soul anywhere.

 

Sally stumbled her way up the dock to the outdoor clubhouse, expecting Isaac to be ready to take breakfast orders and serve up her daily cup of coffee. She couldn't help but snicker at the name Isaac. He'd heard all the jokes and comparisons to his Love Boat namesake, and hated them all. This Isaac was a pale skinned Irishman, for starters.

 

"Isaac," Sally called out as she sat down. There was no reply. She called his name again to similar result. It was then that she noticed there was no music playing, and the grill, visible behind the bar, was unoccupied as well. Sally stood and stepped back from her stool.

 

"Hello?"

 

The silence that replied was deafening, and frightening. The only sound she could discern was the gentle rubbing of boat hulls against their moorings. Even the seagulls were conspicuously silent. Determined to find someone, Sally headed towards the parking lot to find it empty. Completely empty. Her own vehicle, a brand new Volvo S-30 convertible, was gone.

 

"What the hell is going on?" She asked herself aloud as she reached into her pocket and took out her cell phone, only to find that there was no signal whatsoever. It was as if everything around her had simply gone silent.

 

Hello!" she yelled out again, but her voice only echoed across the water.

 

"There's no one here," a voice finally answered from behind her, startling her into shrieking. Sally quickly turned and, cupping her hand over her mouth to prevent another shriek, suppressed her urge to scream. The voice had come from a little girl, who otherwise appeared to be seven or eight years old. The girl's skin was a ghostly grey, as was her hair. Her eyes were black as night, and the sundress she wore was tattered and filthy. Most horrifically, though, the child had no arms below the shoulders.

 

"What happened to you?" Sally asked involuntarily.

 

"They did this to me, Sally," the girl answered, staring blankly at Sally with her empty eyes. "They want you to join us."

 

Sally stumbled backwards for a few steps before turning and running back towards the boat. Frantically she looked behind her at the littler girl, finally letting the fear erupt from her throat as she saw dozens of similarly armless, emotionless, hollow beings step forward and surround the girl. The horde began moving towards her.

 

Frantically, Sally released the mooring lines as fast as she was able and leapt onto the boat. By the time she engaged the engine and began to pull away, ghost like beings had reached her jetty. She backed her way into the deeper water. One by one they kept walking, trying to reach her. They didn't even stop when the reach the end of the pier, falling into the water like some kind of grotesque lemmings.

 

"What are you?" She screamed. "Leave me alone!" Tears streamed down her cheeks as she turned the boat and sped away towards open water. She'd no idea where she was going. All she knew was that she needed to get away from there. Sally had made it halfway to Nantucket before she finally stopped the engine, and all was silent again. Her strength gone, she collapsed to the floor, pulled her knees to her chest, and sobbed. Praying that it was all a bad dream, Sally willed herself to awaken. To her horror, she was unquestionably already awake.

 

"What's happening?" she asked to no one in particular. "What the hell is happening?"

 

It was as if she'd awoken that morning living in the pages of a Stephen King novel. Nothing made sense. She was alone, and terrified. Breathing deeply, Sally wiped her tears and tried to think. When she saw another vessel approaching, however, her survival instinct kicked in and she leapt down into the cabin and locked the door behind her.

 

Jonathan had always kept a handgun locked in a case beneath the bench in the cabin, and she thanked the heavens he'd not only done so, but had taught her to fire it. She quickly removed the pistol, loaded a clip, and peeked through the curtain of the small window.

 

The boat she'd seen was passing now. It was a sailboat, probably twenty feet in length. Across its bow stood four of the armless, soulless creatures. Sally pulled back from the window and breathed rapidly, hoping against hope that they hadn't seen her peering out. For what seemed like a tense eternity, she waited. She dared not look again until nearly a half an hour had passed. When she did, she could barely make out the other boat's sail on the horizon.

 

"This can't be real. Please God, tell me this isn't real…."

 

 

© J.J. Goodman 2014. All rights reserved.