Fathom

by Merrie Destefano

  Everyone was drinking more lately.

  I grabbed a frozen pizza from the freezer, unwrapped it and shoved it in the oven. Then I spread my chemistry book and my notes out on the table. At that point, I realized I was way too hungry to wait for dinner, so I pulled a couple of cans from the cupboard. Tuna and sardines. I drained them both, poured the contents into a bowl and started eating.

  Just then Dad walked in the door, bag of groceries in one arm, racquet ball gear in the other. He gave me a weird look.

  “What are you eating?” he asked as he shuffled milk and eggs from the bag to the fridge.

  “Tuna,” I said, my mouth full.

  “Whatever happened to vegetables and carbs?” he asked, his back to me.

  I shrugged, but of course he couldn’t hear that. He swiveled around and stared at me.

  “Pizza’s in the oven,” I told him. As far as I was concerned, that fulfilled the need for carbs and veggies.

  “Is there something going on, Kira?” He frowned, but not exactly like he was mad. More like he was concerned—which was way worse. “Anything we need to talk about?”

  “I’m just hungry, Dad. Sheesh.”

  He sat at the table across from me. Like he was waiting for some big confession, but I didn’t have a clue what was on his mind.

  “I got a call from your English teacher today, Mrs. Pierce.”

  Suddenly my stomach turned inside out. I set the bowl on the table. My journal. I had forgotten all about it. Apparently Mrs. P hadn’t. Crap.

  “She wants to meet with us on Monday.”

  “Did she say why?” I asked.

  “No. That’s why I’m asking you. Have you been turning in your homework?”

  “Come on, Dad. You know I do.”

  “Then what’s going on?” he asked.

  I swallowed. Besides the fact that the whole town hated me and treated me like I had some contagious mental illness? “Nothing.” But already tears were welling up in my eyes, so I hastily brushed them away with the palm of my hand. “Really, Dad, I thought I was doing good in English. I don’t know what I did wrong.” I hated lying to my dad. But maybe it wasn’t a lie, not really. I mean, all I had done was turn in my assignment. I’d done just what I was supposed to do, so how could I get in trouble for that?

  I didn’t hear Gram walk in the room behind me, didn’t know that she and Dad were having another one of their silent conversations about me.

  All I knew was that she put her hands on my shoulders.

  “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” she said. “We know you’re doing your best in school. Your dad will get it all straightened out. Go ahead and finish your—what is that? Tuna and sardines?” Gram laughed then. “That crazy appetite of yours.”

  Dad watched her. That was when I could hear the silent words. Couldn’t tell what they were, but the air sizzled with their heat.

  “Maybe you should cut back on the swimming, Kira,” Dad said. Still with that heavy look of concern, his voice thick with it. The circles under his eyes were even darker today. Ever since Mom and Katie’s death, he’d had an almost superstitious fear of the ocean. Gram was the one who had convinced him, years ago, that I needed to learn how to swim.

  And once I started, I hadn’t been able to stop.

  I shook my head and stood up. Swimming was the only outlet I had, the only time I felt at peace. “I can’t stop, don’t say that.” My chest tightened and I struggled to breathe.

  Gram tried to pull me into a hug, but I didn’t want to be held. I pushed her away.

  Dad stared at me, the concern on his face giving way to something else. As if he knew what I was going through and wished he could help somehow.

  “It’s okay, baby girl,” he said. He stood beside me now and held his arms out. He didn’t force me into an embrace. Ever since the funeral, there were times when I couldn’t stand to be touched. Instead he just stretched out his arms and waited. I paused, took another feeble breath. “We aren’t going to make you stop swimming,” he said. “I just thought maybe you should rest for awhile. You know how I worry about you. But if that’s not what you want—”

  “It isn’t,” I said.

  “Then we won’t mention it again. Come here.” His arms were still out.

  I slid into his embrace, let his warm arms wrap around me, and I felt safe.

  “I’m not going to leave you, Kira,” he said, as if he could read my mind, as if he knew that every time he held me I was comparing it to her last embrace. Arms sticky with blood, then she was running away to the ocean and death.

  Chapter 11

  Caleb:

  Night brought both anger and despair. Riley led us through city, beneath the glow of street lamps. Village streets gave way to long winding roads, until at last, a serpentine stretch of beach opened up on our left, linking tall rocky cliffs with the sea. Perched on a high bluff to the right, the dwelling of our familiar waited for us, glowing with phosphorescent light.

  Starlight guided me up the stairs, to the rock-and-wood home where we were staying. Food waited for us on the dining room table, steaming bowls of rice and fish, but the humans who lived here must have retreated to their private rooms. The only sound in the house was the thrashing of the sea against rock, as steady as breathing.

  Riley had claimed the role of leader after Ethan’s death and she turned on me as soon as we entered the house.

  “I told you, it wasn’t the right time,” she said, referring to the argument we’d had when we all stood outside the souvenir shop. “You can’t just walk in and introduce yourself to one of the people who live on land. And especially not her.”

  “Don’t be too hard on him,” Dylan said as he took a bowl of food. “It’s almost impossible to control yourself during the Burning.”

  “The Burning is no excuse.” Riley pointed an accusing finger toward Dylan. “You have no idea how risky it is here in Crescent Moon Bay—”

  He shook his head, then slouched against a far wall.

  I turned away from Riley, grabbed two bowls of rice and fish, then left the house, the door slamming behind me. A sea breeze embraced me as I jogged down the stairs. I searched the beach, my eyes glowing softly in the darkness, until I found my sister, Lynn, curled amidst a pile of rocks. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday and still refused to come in the house.

  Her face was ashen, her eyes closed. I woke her, then set a bowl of food before her.

  “Eat,” I said.

  She stared at me with eyes swollen from crying, then shook her head.

  “I saw her today,” I told her as I stared out into the sea, my own bowl in my lap. I watched my sister from the corner of my eye. “She’s more lovely than the legend claimed.”

  Lynn sat up, watching me with haunted eyes.

  “And I saw the cliff, with the tiny house surrounded by hawthorn trees. And the steps carved from stone.”

  She drug her hand through the bowl, lifted her fingers to her mouth, her head resting on my shoulder.

  “The same steps the mother climbs every Midsummer’s Eve, to check on the family she abandoned—”

  “The only sign she’s been there—” Lynn picked up the legend and spoke the next sentence, her voice weak, “—a curious pool of salt water beside his bed.”

  She gave me a half smile. “I wish I could have seen it,” she whispered.

  “You will,” I said, one arm sliding around her shoulders. “I promise. Now, eat.”

  Chapter 12

  Kira:

  Outside, the waves washed the land clean and the sun chased away the shadows. I woke and welcomed another morning, then realized that a stone weighed down the center of my chest. My journal. My secrets.

  Everything was going to be laid bare soon.

  So I dressed quickly, eager to see the world of water, to feel the salt on my skin and to hear the gulls. I ran toward the stairs long ago carved in the cliff face, leading down to the crescent of beach that waited below. Waves crashed, water roar
ed and the fragrance of seaweed filled the air. I took off my shoes, let the sand press against my bare feet like a million dull needles.

  The call of the water echoed my heartbeat.

  It pulled me, just like gravity.

  My wetsuit on, I raced across the beach until the water curled around my feet, foam hissing between my toes. I was almost ready to leap toward the next wave when I noticed the blood.

  Dull red and glistening in the morning light. It stained the sand, formed a red dappled path that led toward the rocks on my left. The stench of death and dying came with my next breath and it made me stumble, almost pitched me forward into the shoals. I turned, my heart thundering louder than the surf. There, to the left, a cluster of seals huddled amidst the rocks, heads lifted and doe-like eyes darting nervously in my direction.

  And between us, a bloody carnage.

  Two seals stretched almost unrecognizable across the sand, bloodied, their flesh ripped open, huge bite marks outlining each and every wound.

  I lost my balance then, careened to my knees with a wicked splash.

  Several other seals wore similar wounds. Two of them scuffled away from their hiding place among the rocks, heading toward the water, one with large bite marks on her side and face, the other with a ragged tear down her left side.

  It looked like a battle had taken place here last night.

  Like some monster had come to Crescent Moon Bay.

  My stomach rolled and a chill ran over me.

  I pushed myself to my feet, wiped my hair away from my face.

  That was when I saw the bull seal, dead, his body—gray and slick with blood—sprawled across the rocks, so large that he looked like another rock himself. This was his harem, these were his wives and his children.

  A thick cloud of flies clustered and hovered over his wounds.

  The entire seal colony was barking now, some retreating into the ocean, some cowering about their dead mate, as if he could still offer them protection.

  “What happened?” I said aloud, wondering if there might be a shark in the water and I scanned the horizon for a tell-tale fin, but saw none. Still, in my heart I knew that if there truly had been a shark, it never could have bitten this many seals in one night. It might have grabbed one or two and then eaten them.

  I counted seventeen wounded seals. Three that were dead.

  And it looked like they had all been attacked on land.

  I needed to call the Coast Guard, warn them that a shark or a killer whale might be prowling the nearby beaches. I needed to call the local animal control center too, I couldn’t leave the seal colony like this, untended. They could die from infection or exposure or blood loss.

  I turned back toward the stairs and that was when I saw him—Cute Guy/Caleb. He stood beside an outcropping of rocks and was pulling a wet suit over his shoulders. He saw me then and waved.

  “How’s the water?” he called.

  Before I could say anything, his jaw dropped open and he stared past me toward the seal colony. Tears formed in his sea green eyes and his muscles tensed, like he was angry.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. “You weren’t here when—when they were—”

  “I’m fine,” I said, although my stomach still churned. We stood beside each other now, both facing the seals while an even deeper sadness flowed through my veins. “I was about to go in the water when I realized that something had attacked them, maybe a shark—”

  “You can’t go in the water. Not today.” He took my hand as if I might run toward the ocean despite the danger.

  And just like yesterday in the shop, I couldn’t concentrate when he stood this close. Especially not when he held my hand in his. He glanced at the cross around my neck. Then he released me and took an awkward step away.

  “It wasn’t a shark,” he told me, his voice just barely above a whisper, his words like a secret confession.

  I nodded in agreement. I could feel it in my bones. An instinctive sense of danger hung in the air; it colored the sky, surged with the waves, all of it warning me to flee. “I—I need to go,” I said reluctantly. “I should report this, call the Coast Guard and see if there’s anything they can do.”

  “I’m really sorry,” he said as I started to walk away.

  Tears began to fill my eyes. I was glad I had my back to him. There was no reason why he should apologize—he wasn’t responsible for this—but I was relieved to hear him say it, nonetheless.

  “Hey, Kira, before you go,” he paused as if searching for the right words. “I wanted to know if—my friends and I are going to Sunset Beach tomorrow—”

  I glanced back over my shoulder. At that moment, the sun peeked through the morning cloud cover. It highlighted the gold in his hair, accented his broad shoulders and muscles. For an instant, he looked like an ancient Celtic warrior, ready to go into battle.

  “I know it’s all just typical tourist stuff, picnic, beach volleyball,” he said. “Things you probably do all the time. But I’d really like it if you could join us.”

  I wondered if he could hear how my pulse sped up.

  “What time?” I asked, the words out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

  “Noon.”

  I nodded to myself, then turned and jogged toward the stairs. I was halfway up the cliff before I realized that I had answered him. I had said yes, the word coming out while I was still thinking, spoken so soft I could barely hear it myself.

  I looked back toward the beach, far below me now, and I wondered how he found his way here today. This beach was so small it wasn’t on any of the tourist maps.

  There was something slightly mysterious about him and his friends.

  Then I spun on my heel, climbed the remaining cliff stairs and ran through the yard filled with long grass. I raced through the door, grabbed the phone and dialed the Coast Guard, was on the line and trying to navigate my way through their answering system when I heard voices in the other room.

  Gram and Dad. They must not have expected me home this early. I usually swam for at least half an hour, usually longer. They were in the hallway, just around the corner.

  “Maybe she won’t be like her mother,” my father said. “Maybe she’ll be like me.”

  “You know that’s not true,” Gram said, her voice sounding even more serious than usual. “We can both see the signs.”

  “But she just turned sixteen. That’s too soon—”

  “You know that’s when it all starts.”

  “She’s just growing up.” Dad didn’t sound very convincing.

  “Exactly—”

  Then they both stopped talking and a heavy, ominous silence spread through the house. I could hear a clock ticking in the kitchen and the wind in the trees outside. Gram and Dad must have realized that I had come home. My mouth felt like it was filled with chalk and my tongue stuck to my teeth as I tried to speak when someone from the Coast Guard finally answered the phone. I collapsed into a living room chair, my shoulders shaking from all the adrenaline in my system. I was suddenly afraid and angry at the same time, like my emotions were in a high-powered blender.

  Gram and Dad had seen the signs.

  Something was happening to me. But they weren’t about to tell me what.

  Chapter 13

  Kira:

  On a normal day, school was pretty bad. Today it was horrible. With every step, I kept seeing images of the dead seals on the beach. I kept wondering if the Coast Guard would be able to save the ones that had been injured or if more seals were going to die. Part of me felt like I’d just lost some of my closest friends. Gram and Dad hadn’t helped either. Their words kept coming back to me. When Mr. L rambled on about the surface area of pyramids, I heard, “We can both see the signs”; when Mr. B explained acid base reduction, I heard, “Sixteen…that’s when it all starts.”

  And then when I walked down the halls, Lucy MacElroy seemed to sense my vulnerability. She pulled a group of Teen Paper Dolls aside and they all started whispering ab
out me and my mom.

  “She’s crazy, just like her mother.”

  “They should lock her up.”

  “Too bad her mom didn’t kill her too.”

  What she didn’t know was that this was the wrong day, the wrong time, the wrong place. For ten years she’d ruled the bratty girls at school and I don’t know what happened—I just flipped.

  My eyes narrowed and my blood turned to magma. I stopped, let all the other kids push past me on their way upstream. My hands curled into fists and every muscle tensed. I turned to face them, saw the Paper Dolls standing in a huddle just outside my next classroom.

  Lucy stared at me and grinned. Like she hoped that I had heard her.

  In a heartbeat I lunged across the hallway, before any of them could run away. I grabbed Lucy—a tan, model-perfect blonde—and slammed her up against the lockers, the collar of her shirt bunched in my left hand, my right arm pressing against her throat.

  I never realized how strong I was until now.

  All the anger of the past ten years surged through me, memories of her and her snippy friends, girls who would do almost anything she said.

  My fist clenched even harder, my jaw tightened.

  “What did you say?” I asked. She didn’t know it, but I was daring her. Go ahead, say it again. Out loud and to my face. Just once.

  Her eyes widened, her mascara so thick she looked like a cartoon. She glanced at her friends, but they had all taken a step away from her. A growing crowd of pimply, hormone-charged flesh formed behind me.

  “N—nothing,” she stammered.

  “Funny. That’s not what I heard. Coulda swore you said something about my mom.”

  We were so close I could feel her heart speeding up.

  “She’s dead. You know that, right?” I asked. Then I glared back at all the other high schoolers who had gathered around us.

  She nodded.

  “Don’t you think you should let the dead rest in peace?”