Captivated

Chapter Two

Where am I, what happened? My lungs are on fire, my eyes are burning, my throat feels like I swallowed razor blades and my clothes are damp. I can feel sand between my fingers and the sun is beating down on my face as I lay still, trying to recall how I made it out the water last night. Did I manage to swim to shore, did someone help me, did I pass out on the beach? I reach my hand to my face, I wince in pain as I run my fingers along my cheekbone, confirming that memory. I remember falling into the water and being pulled under, how had I managed to get free of that? What was that glow, why was I so calm?

Noises of the marina break me from my growing list of questions. I can hear the familiar sounds of sails flapping in the wind, waves crashing, kids laughing but I can also I can hear men yelling, which seems out of place. "Five silver or I take your hand", booms a deep voice off in the distance. I peak out through my lashes and am stunned to see a vaguely familiar setting but what before was a marina now resembles a fishing dock. The big white shiny yachts have been replaced with wooden ships, the obnoxious owners wearing designer brands now appear to be unkempt men with beards and clothes from an 18th century themed dress up party.

I sit up like a shot, what is going on? My heart is racing, I can feel the tension entering my body. I turn to look behind me, up to the top of the bluff where my house should sit and I am met with the sight of a light house. I whip my head around and instead of seeing a row of fine dining establishments along the promenade, it's just a cobblestone street and buildings that are straight from centuries ago. I can't comprehend what I'm seeing, horse and cart, man carrying hessian sack, woman with...is that sword? I recognise these things but I can't understand why I am seeing them. It doesn't take long for my list of questions to be replaced by a whole new set.

Maybe I got hit harder than I thought or maybe I am having another break down. I need to call Zach! I am hit with panic when I don't immediately spot my satchel. I scan the beach down to the water and am relieved when I spot it poking up from where it is partially buried in the sand. I crawl quickly to it, rip it up from its resting spot and yank it open. I thrust my hand in and feel around for my phone. My fingers happen across soggy paper, an apple and then finally the smooth screen of my phone. I pull it out praying that it still works and am surprised when the screen lights up on my home screen. 'No service', the words at the top of my screen baffle me. I shove it back into my bag, has Zach cut off my phone again? 

A woman shrieking from the large wooden jetty brings me back to whatever reality this is. I have no idea what is going on but I need to find some form of shelter to hide while I figure this out. I do a quick analysis of all the places that I can see where I can remain unseen. The promenade beyond the rocks seems too risky, the beach has no cover, so I settle on moving towards the action and figure I can sit on the rocks that run under the start of the docks. I don't know if this is more poor decision making but before I can overthink it, I snatch up my bag, spring to my feet and make my way to the line of rocks that run from the sand and out along the edge of the water. 

Dashing along these rocks feels exactly the same as it did last night, I know these rocks. I'm at the point where the rocks meet the start of the jetties in a flash and this is where I would normally veer left to a higher place on the breakwater. But I move down the sloped rock wall towards the water below so I can move underneath the wooden walkway instead. I stop to take one last look around, my eyes scanning the row of small stone buildings. The largest of them with a wooden sign hanging above the door, the words "Tavern & Inn" carved in it. It's a far cry from the oyster and martini bar that sat there last night. 

A burly woman exits from behind the dark wooden door, she is wearing a floor length skirt that I assume to be made out of some kind of linen. She is carrying what appears to be an empty woven basket. I watch as she begins to walk down the street and I cast my eyes further down the road ahead of her. There appears to be some sort of market or at least tables set up with fruit and vegetables, it's hard to tell from this distance. My curiosity is captured and I have an urge to follow her and see what is going on for myself. I resist that impulse and remind myself that for now, I need to take cover and figure out my current predicament.