Unknown Waters

Lewis Donald sat in the cockpit of his boat fussing over several gauges that were acting up. The early morning water was eerily calm, a grey fog hovering inches above the liquid, and he did his best to avoid the rocks poking out. The radar binged bringing his attention to the little blips popping up around him, his excitement rising.

Schools of fish were circling in this part of the water.

Tapping a few buttons with his fingers the boat began to slow. His boots slapped against the floor as he hurried over to the rigging equipment on the starboard side of his boat. Pulling the lever it gave way with a loud hiss. The net that had been pooled on the floor lifted into the air. Lewis pulled another lever and the pulley system turned until the net was above the water. His gloved palm slapped down on the button that released the net and he listened to it splash.

“I’m going to be a rich man,” Lewis muttered to himself. The pulleys moved until the rope holding the net went taught signaling it had reached its desired depth of nearly 100 feet. He had laced the net with a liquid bait to make the ropes smell to fish what bacon would smell to humans. Delicious.

Lewis was almost giddy, a slight skip to his step as he re-entered the cockpit. The radar ping echoed in the small space and he felt the smile on his lips. Rubbing his hands together he imagined what he would do with the lump sum that would be presented to him later on in the day.

Maybe he would finally upgrade his boat, or buy a new one. He could go up north to visit his Mom in New York.

The boat rocked subtly, his eyes flashing out to the pulley system struggling against the weight of whatever it was holding, and his heart pounded against his chest. His fingers were shaking as he adjusted the levers and waited as the gears slowly pulled the net toward the surface.

The fog had intensified around the boat, that much he could make out, so he knew he would need to be careful maneuvering further out to avoid the rocks. Eagerly he peered over the side of the boat into the dark water, the rope disappearing into the abyss. He could hear the pulley straining with the gears starting to grind. “Lots and lots of fish.”

Releasing one of the levers he walked over to the small wheel that would manually bring the net up if it was turned. His fingers bent around the metal and his muscles went taught. He was in the process of turning it when the boat suddenly lurched to the right. His body flew forward and he lost his footing, his head smashing into the wall. Black dots lingered in his vision as he blinked rapidly. His gloves slid against the floor, body struggling to get back to his feet, when the boat made a loud groaning noise. He let out a small yell as the boat tipped the opposite direction. Gravity pulled him toward the edge but he reached for a rope dangling off the pulley. Using the rope for leverage he managed to creep his way back to the levers. His hand pushed on one making the gears start back up. Smoke began to billow from the grinding system, the weight of whatever was in the net too much, and Lewis watched in horror as the upper section of the equipment began to bend.

The further the equipment bent, the more the boat began to tip back to the ocean. Lewis fumbled with the slick coat covering his body to get the knife tucked in the back of his pants. Slowly he inched closer to the pulley system, right arm secured with the rope, left arm stretched out with the blade. He was conscious of the danger in the situation. If the boat flipped, he was a goner.

Stretching his body as far as it would go without letting go of the rope he flicked his wrist. The knife missed the target by inches. With a groan the rigging equipment continued to be pulled under the water’s surface and the boat had only seconds before the weight shift would flip it.

Lewis let the rope loose from his right arm. The momentum tossed his body into the wall of the boat. Gripping onto the railing he sliced into the thickly braided rope until the threads snapped. His holler melted into the sounds of the boat rocking and the rig releasing the pressure off the gears. Water sloshed around his feet as it splashed onto the floor. Holding the side of the boat he waited until the rocking had almost ceased before getting back to his full height.

“Son of a bitch.” Lewis stared at the ruined pieces of his boat. Parts of the deck were splintered around the base of the rig. Angrily he grabbed onto the braided rope dangling off the pulleys and yanked on it. “Best on this side of Florida my ass!”

A loud splash ripped his attention away from the boat and out to the ocean. His boots sprayed the water around his feet until the toes kicked against the side. Leaning over he squinted at the dark liquid, small waves capping and pushing against the large vehicle parked, and he listened for the sound again. “Now you want to taunt me?” Lewis growled. “You stupid fish think you can just get away with this?!”

He was in the process of turning around when something shot out of the water and embedded in his arm. Searing pain coursed through his upper body causing him to lose his footing. The large boots tripped over a piece of the deck that had been completely lifted out of place. He cried out until he was engulfed by the cold temperature of the ocean, eyes blinking rapidly to see in the dark.

It was then that what felt like a hand grabbed onto his ankles and pulled him into depths no man had searched before.


Col leaned against the doorway of Amelia’s bedroom with his arms crossed.

“Are you sure?” His tone was condescending, which made Amelia more aggravated.

“I’m positive Col. Wes is the guy. One hundred percent.”

“That’s good, right? I mean he’s here now. He can help you.”

“But he keeps disappearing. Don’t you find it strange in the least that these two random, absolutely gorgeous, but random people show up at the same time boats start breaking down?”

“Are you saying they’re the culprits?” The expression on Col’s face was a mixture of seriousness and sarcasm, one that Amelia was used to, and she shook her head.

“I don’t know what I’m saying anymore. Let’s just go.” Grabbing his arm she pulled him away from her room. Col could remember the nights crawling through her bedroom window when they were kids and curling up in bed next to the small girl to keep her company.

“Where’s your dad now?” He snatched an apple off the kitchen counter and took a large bite.

“Somewhere in California trying to get mergers to sign for his business in Miami. Won’t be back until next Tuesday.” Amelia pushed a pair of sunglasses onto her nose once they were outside. The sun had started to set casting oranges and reds along the water.

“You want to stay over for a few days?” Col chomped on the fruit loudly. His skin was glistening in the soft lighting and he smiled down at her.

“Not if you plan on having Amber over at the same time.” Amelia adjusted her long sleeved, off the shoulder shirt so she could feel the breeze on her neck. “I would rather sleep in my quiet house than listen to her cry out your name all night.”

“Don’t be jealous,” he wiggled his eyebrows at her.

“Oh please,” she muttered giving him a light shove. From their spot on the beach she could already spot the bon fire burning, the flames reaching toward the sky, and she could hear the music echoing off the sand. She had opted to walk barefoot, her shorts cut off mid-thigh, and relished the warmth the grains offered her toes as they sunk.

“I don’t think she’s coming over tonight anyway.” Amelia noticed the change in his voice.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“She’s been kind of bitchy since Elle sat with us at lunch the other day. It was a friendly gesture and she’s blowing it out of proportion.”

“Well it’s not like you guys are technically a thing anyway,” Amelia pointed out.

“You’re right.” He took one last bite of the apple and tossed the core in a nearby trash can. The large barrels lined the sand near the decks of the houses to help avoid littering. “Tonight I’m just going to let loose and have some fun.”

“I’m not carrying you back to your house.” Col draped his arm over her shoulders and poked her in the ribs. “Stop!”

“I should be the one carrying you!” Amelia laughed, snaking her arm around his torso, and leaned into him.

“If I got drunk then neither of us would take care of the other.” She could hear someone laughing over the noise of the music up ahead.

“Maybe you could get Wes to take care of you,” Col nodded in the direction of the young man sitting on a log by the fire. Hunter was next to him talking animatedly with his hands.

“And maybe you could not have sex for one night.”

“No, I don’t think that’s possible,” Col countered shaking his head. It was Amelia’s turn to poke him in the ribs causing him to jump. His eyes scanned over the familiar faces surrounding the fire until they rested on a petite blonde sipping from a red cup. She was standing between two girls who were both speaking at the same time with a look of pure boredom on her face.

“Be careful, demon at five o’clock,” Amelia whispered spotting Amber only a few feet away. Scott was walking by with two cups in his hands, one Col took without hesitation, and downed half the contents in one drink.

“Maybe I’ll hang with you for the night.”

“No way. You’ll dampen my style.” Amelia pushed her best friend away. He pleaded with her, his brown eyes growing large and his bottom lip popping out. “No! Col, seriously. I don’t want to babysit you.”

“Ames! Col! I’m glad you guys could make it. Ben and Kyle just went to grab the burgers and stuff to start grilling.” Amber placed her hand lightly on Col’s shoulder.

“I’m going to grab a drink.” Amelia gestured toward the cooler that usually held a couple bottles of water.

“Listen, baby, I’m sorry for being s-“

“You know what Amber? I don’t want to hear it.” Col finished the rest of his drink and handed her the empty cup. “We’re not exclusive, right?” She dropped her jaw in shock. “So that means I can do whatever I want, whenever I want, and you can do the same. Let’s expand our horizons for the night.” He slapped a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze, his attention immediately drawn to the petite blonde who was currently staring at him.