Instinct Ch. 2 Part 1

Thunder crackled and snapped overhead. Ocean waves crashed. Elias rose with his stomach fighting the sick that tried to rise up. He pulled his soaked body off the deck. Balancing on the osculating floor Elias grabbed various ropes trying to pull in the sail and run bare poles. He grabbed the steering wheel attempting to ride with the winds. But, lightning struck the ship and it was torn apart by the waves. Elias launched into the air with the splintered ship and then swallowed by the waves. As he sunk to the depths of the tumultuous blackness a flash of light consumed him. He barely made out the vagueness of a woman’s face.


Elias jerked forward from his restless sleep gasping. His heart pounded from the startling visage. He took in his surroundings in a split second then leaned forward with his head between his legs he rested. He inhaled deep to calm his heart and took inventory again. He acknowledged his unpleasant dry sand ridden mouth when it struck him, he could see! He opened his eyes again and studied his surroundings again. He could see the thick heaviness that weighed him down. It wasn’t falling, or floating, or blowing away, it was just shifting subtly. His first concern was breathing in this foreign matter, but it was just as unaffected by him as it was the wind.


He tried to stand but was met by resistance when his legs gave way. He quickly caught himself but only with his left hand. He sat back, reminded of his wound he pulled his arm up to inspect it. He discovered there was no wound at all. For a second he considered his nightmarish travel in the blackness as a figment of his imagination. No, he assured himself, it was a nightmare but not one he would wake up from.


Elias recounted his previous experience. He considered how he had ended up on the beach, his wounded arm, the creatures he was sure he had sensed moments before collapse. Then he recalled the voice. It rasped in his memories… Elias, Get up. At least he knew his own name. He cast the hallucination aside. His thoughts returned to his wound that was gone. He stretched out his arm and looked over his tanned skin again. It was light cinnamon and there wasn’t even a scar left.


Despite his restored state he was still very sore. Elias thought that if he was grounded he should make use of the time and stretch. Elias grabbed his boot’s pointed toes and leaned, he could feel his muscle’s movements were fluid even in their sore state. He didn’t feel any resistance as the muscle memory took over and he pushed and pulled into familiar stretches. He quickly realized, even if his memory was gone his body remembered.


Once he was limbered up and his circulation returned use to his muscles, he stood up and did his best to rid himself of all the sand. He took into account his belongings, sturdy boots, leather greaves, pants, a tunic, and his leather chest piece. Suddenly a rush of tension filled him. It burned and twisted his gut. When it dwindled he was strangely aware that he was without a weapon. His hands felt naked without something to draw.


Elias settled to meeting this need first. Whoever had tended to his arm had left tracks. He leaned down noting that only a few hours and they would’ve been gone completely. Elias looked down both direction of the beach. A feeling similar to the one inspiring his search for a weapon seemed to pull him down the beach a little further. The Miasma cut his vision short, he could only see through twenty or so feet. But, it was light and that was something to be thankful for. Elias scrutinized the waters while he treaded the sands. There! As soon as he spotted the debris he was put to ease.


A swollen dark red form bobbed on the waxing waves. Elias walked to where the flotsam was floating closer. As it got closer her could make out soggy folds that struggled to stay afloat. When it was just out of arms reach he stepped into the water and pulled the swollen package from the ocean.


It was a chest with a soaked folded garment strapped to the top. He set the chest down in the sand and pushed down onto the cloth draining as much water he could to lighten the load. Elias thought it odd, but he had no urgent need to open the chest or unfold the garment. It was only two feet in length , a foot deep and wide. Instead of tearing into it he grabbed the leather straps and held it over his shoulder and set out following the tracks.



About moorewriting

I am a man of many passions. God, my wife, and writing are just a few. I want to share with you humanity through literature. My two blogs are Sword in Hand and Real Time Religion. View all posts by moorewriting

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