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31
HAWK
My alarm goes off.
I sit up.
Run a hand through my hair.
Turn over on my other side and try to go back to sleep.
A gentle breeze warms the sweat beading on my temple.
Exhaustion pulls me under.
I dream of Shanel.
I see her standing at a riverbank, her eyes on me and her hand outstretched as she calls out my name. I’m drowning in muddy water. Screaming for her. Knowing that if I can just touch her hand I’ll be okay.
Something wet falls on me. A trickle.
Then it’s a full bucket of water.
I scramble up and glance around the hull of the boat where I’ve strung my hammock in the shade. A giant wave just tossed over and doused me. Evidence of it is still bubbling on the wooden deck.
Picking at the front of my days-old shirt, I hear the slurp it makes as it sucks back on to my sunburned skin.
With an irritated grunt, I tear the shirt off and toss it aside.
The ocean surrounds me on all sides.
Blue skies paint the horizon.
Not a cloud in sight to distract me.
I check the anchor and then return to the yacht’s navigation screen to make sure I haven’t gone off course.
I’m fine.
Right where I want to be.
In the middle of nowhere.
Stretching my arms over my head, I pad to the cooler and force myself to grab a bottle of water rather than a beer. My heart is thirsting for something to numb the pain, but if I don’t give my body nourishment I’ll die out here.
Maybe I should.
I try to push that voice away, but every hour that passes it gets harder and harder to resist it.
What’s the point of going on?
For what?
Family?
I have none.
B4?
