Gwendolyn Marie - Crashing Tides

CRASHING TIDES

CRASHING TIDES

By Gwendolyn Marie

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, and incidents either are the product of the author s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Independently Published

Cover design by Cristina Tnase

Copyright 2019 Gwendolyn Marie Walker

All Rights Reserved.

ISBN-13: 9781674905891

Printed in the United States of America

First Edition

For Nicholas

Crashing Tides

When beholding the tranquil beauty and brilliancy of the ocean s skin, one forgets the tiger heart that pants beneath it; and would not willingly remember, that this velvet paw but conceals a remorseless fang.

Herman Melville, Moby Dick .

Yet on through moors and tree-clad mountainsides, over crags and cliffs and trackless wastes I ran. The sun was at our backs: I saw in frontor it was fear that sawa giant shadow. For sure I heard his frightful footfalls, fled his panting breath upon my braided hair.

Ovid, Metamorphoses . On the Nymph Arethusa.

Prologue

She lived behind walls all of her life. Caged like a wild animal, regarded as such. Yet fortune came and she escaped her prison. But where did this bring her, she wondered, as she looked down to the stranger transforming in her arms, and then up to the madman staring at them both.

What did you do? she said to the madman named Triton. She tried to help the stranger, pushing him to his side to make sure he did not suffocate on his own blood. Triton had referred to him as the Pathfinder, though she knew nothing else about him. No matter how she tried to save him, she knew it was too late. She felt tremors in his body. Blood dripped as tears from his eyes and in those eyes she saw chaos. He tried to reach towards her, though not in reflex nor in desiring help, but in a blind struggle to retain his hold on life.

His arms seemed paralyzed though, preventing his intent to grab and claw at her. She knew that if she kept trying to rescue him, she would be trapped and both would be damned. And so she stepped away and took one last look pass the stranger and at Triton.

He did not move to stop her. Did not start a chase. Just watched and let the scene play out as if for his amusement.

She ran. Through the hallways, through the doors, she ran until one finally opened to the outside. However, neither grass nor concrete met her bare feet. Forests and cities did not come to view. Only steel under her stance. Only the ocean came to her sight.

Snow fell in the night sky. Water rose in waves, crashing against the hull of the ship. The wind tore against her skin as if to stop her, but still she ran. She spared one more glance behind her. Everything was shades of grey in the nightscape, but she saw the outlines of her captors. Their shadows were visible through the snowfall.

Triton. Several other forms flanked him.

Terror surged from the sight, but still she would not be subdued. Yet deep inside she knew the ship trapped her and deemed any escape pointless before she even had the chance.

All her life she wanted to get away. All her life she desired to escape, to fight, and then to live. And now she was faced with that life-long wish. She could jump and find freedom. The problem was that she would die as well, the cold sea swallowing her whole.

One wish came true: her escape. Perhaps if she tried for another.

To wish upon a star.

When did humankind find the belief that its troubles, hopes, and dreams can all be fulfilled by looking up above. By picking out that one shimmer of shining light and whispering the words that we can tell no other.

Did anyone truly presume that their dreams would be answered, she wondered. That their fears would be torn apart by starlight, leaving only our desires that could come true.

Still she looked to a star in the snowy night sky.

And even though the stars were hidden by the clouds, she murmured the words of longings that went unanswered for so long before.

Unlike all the other wishes she once made, this wish was different. This wish she had the sky above to wish upon rather than a ceiling. She needed it to come true, and with all her soul she had to believe that her voice would be heard in the cosmos above. That the star would answer, that her words did not fall upon deaf ears.

Free me.

Free from all, a slave to eternity.

A gloved hand came from behind to restrain her. One of her captors pushed her down and she fell on the steel deck as he put his weight on her. She tried to fight back, but he folded her arms behind her in restraint, pressing his knee into the small of her back.

She would not plead, nor beg for his mercy. Instead as he pulled her to face him, she thrusted her knee between his legs. As he leaned over, racked in pain, she shoved her forehead into his.

Blood.

Hers. Not his. She had not met flesh when she had struck him in the head, but instead a mask and respirator. She grasped to stay conscious. Darkness descended upon her vision and soon she could not tell the dark of night from the dark of her subconscious.

One thing remained. The star she had wished upon, the light fading in and out amidst the overcast winter skies. She had to focus on it, to ward off unconsciousness, if she wanted to end this nightmare.

Though it did not wound him as expected, the guard loosened his grip. She was able to get out from under him and started away. She could only crawl as blood fell from her head in drops below. The red mixing with the white.

Something encircled her leg. She pulled, imagining instead she had found forest and the roots of the trees had come to life, granting her a repose as they pulled her beneath the dirt. But she knew this was not true. The grip tightened and another hold came upon her upper thigh. It was Triton. His hands grasped her.

He pulled her away. He pulled her back to hell.

Chapter One

Wild is the wind. Free is the spirit.

The wanderer walked, without a past, without knowledge of the future, toward a destination yet s een or known.

What was ahead mattered little as she walked along the coasts, spiraling beside the sea. And what lay behind her was forgotten. Yet she did not question why she was there, why she walked, why her past was gone. The answers were beneath a depth greater than the ocean floor, her memories being a blackened thought in her mind. From her perspective she always walked along the shore, always strode alonewithout possession or care. Untethered to even the most simple things, she walked nude without as much as a name. But being stripped of all possessions exposed her to a primal freedom. It felt right and for the first time within even a forgotten life she was free.

She could only guess why she started this journey, or why along the way her memories perished as the sun was now to the midnight skies. But does it matter that the waves break with such tenacity to shred shells into sand or that each droplet of water may not succeed to find the ocean again. Does it matter why she walked?

Nature need not be questioned; the aberrant exists even without a place. And she would not search for why she was here, for what was important was neither the past nor future. What holds significance is life, and that is singularly defined by the moment itself. So she walked with each step harmonious with the lawless rumblings of the sea. Her sole companion was that of the animalisticimpromptu and irresistiblerage of nature.

Nothing lasts. Sandy beaches changed to rocky shores. Glistening in the moonlight, a dorsal fin peaked between the waves, indicating she was not alone. A peregrine falcon cried above, interrupting the melody of insentience. And then beyond a doubt, her solitude broke.