The Saltwater Marathon (A Novella)

by Chateau, Jonathan

  The thing pins me good. Looks like it didn’t need the ropes this time.

  I try to pull his hands off my neck, but can’t. You would think it would be easy, since they are walking whoopee cushions, but they somehow create enough pressure in their bodies to make the water stiffen the suits.

  Guess that’s why they pop when you poke them.

  I feel a headache coming on fast. Then I see the vacuum hose rise above his head like a monkey tail.

  Oh yes, I know what’s next.

  It rises up, curls back, quivers as it takes aim at my neck–

  There’s an explosion. The smell of hot saltwater fills my nostrils. The jelly-head slumps over me, and drains out.

  “You think you could just leave me?” I hear a familiar voice ask.

  My eyes dart next to a BMW parked next to me.

  Carmela’s BMW.

  I get to my feet and see her sitting in the driver’s seat, window open, gun aimed at me. The rain smacking against her flawlessly tanned skin.

  “Carmela,” I say. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Waiting to meet you… just like old times.”

  Several of the blue-green lights swirl onto the roofs of cars near us.

  “No one leaves me, Bryan. No one.”

  “Ok, got it. Look, I’m sorry. But we’ve gotta go,” I say as move towards her – but she raises the gun. “What are you doing? Have you seen what these things can do?”

  “I have.” Her tone is almost robotic. “Been stuck here all night, waiting and watching them eat people.” She cocks the gun. “And that’s why this is the perfect time to end our relationship on my terms.”

  “What–”

  “No one will ever know.”

  “Know what, Carmela–“

  Her gun goes off and I feel my stomach explode. Blinding pain shoots through my body. Feels like I just swallowed a grenade. I stumble backwards against a car behind me.

  She shot me.

  She freaking shot me.

  “This is what happens when you play with a woman’s heart, Bryan.”

  I put my hand over the bullet hole, but it doesn’t do much to hold in my blood.

  Now I know how those jelly-heads feel.

  “You get yourself good and fucking shot, that’s what.”

  Another jelly-head jumps between us. Goes for Carmela’s gun – but she doesn’t hesitate, firing off several rounds, sending the creature reeling backwards and then shrinking into a puddle at my feet.

  “Why...” –the pain is brutal– “why would you do this?”

  “Because I actually loved you, you idiot. I’ve loved you since the day I met you,” she says. “And you just threw me away, because you’re pining over her… still?”

  “Still? She was…” and it takes me everything I’ve got just to get the words out, “… she was my wife!”

  “That stupid, plain ass gringa? Please. If she loved you half as much as I do, you wouldn’t have fucked me in the first place–”

  “I fucked you… because I was a coward!”

  As the rain pelts my skin, I feel it cooling off the warmth in my hand. The warmth from my blood, seeping between my fingers. I’m not sure how long I’ve got, but if the jelly-heads don’t finish me off, Carmela just might.

  Perhaps I deserve this. To die like a dog, in the middle of a parking lot where she and I screwed.

  “No, you fucked me because you loved me. Admit it.”

  I shake my head no.

  “Fine. It doesn’t matter what you believe or don’t want to believe. Just know this...” she cocks the gun again. “True love is always worth dying for. Remember that.”

  I close my eyes, preparing mentally for what’s next.

  I wish I could outrun a bullet.

  But instead of hearing the final deathblow of her gun going off…

  I hear Carmela screaming her lungs out.

  And when I open my eyes, her car is being hoisted into the air by a dozen ropes. She leans out the window, aims upwards, fires several shots at the giant sand dollar, but they have no effect on the great creature. She runs out of bullets and screams as the mouthpiece splits in half, opens like a clamshell, and swallows her and her BMW whole.

  I get to my feet and start running, running as fast as I possibly can while keeping my hand over my wound. With each step, I feel a sharp, stabbing pain in my gut.

  Still, I have to get to my car.

  I hear shrill cries all around me now.

  Shadowy figures popping above the silhouettes of cars, like gophers emerging from their holes, watching me with their beady little goggles.

  Then they make their move.

  A blitzkrieg in all directions. A pack of hyenas circling the gazelle – but this wounded gazelle is still faster than they are.

  The screams close in, but I drown them out with a mental soundtrack of The Prodigy playing once again in my brain.

  By keeping my eyes on the prize, powering through the pain and the blood loss worsened by my running, I finally get to my Chevy. I reach out, throw open the door, and jump inside.

  Chapter 5

  I settle back in my seat. Fatigue is rapidly setting in. My shirt is stained completely red.

  Then – like an icepick to my brain – another migraine attacks. I squeeze my eyes and collapse against the steering wheel.

  Come to me, baby. Come back to me.

  “Sirena!”

  Yes, love. I’m still waiting for you.

  Everything goes blue-green. I lean over and look up. The giant sand dollar’s spotlights are on top of me.

  Come to me.

  Shrill screams everywhere. My head spins in all directions – coupled with the incessant rain, my migraine is making my vision shitty, but I’m seeing all that I need to see.

  I’m surrounded by jelly-heads on all sides.

  Black lines explode in all directions – followed closely by the sound of metal on metal. It’s their hooks connecting with my car.

  If I wait too long, given the number of these freaks, they’ll have me tied down.

  Come back to me, baby. Come join me at the bottom.

  The passenger side window is hit with a hook – and I jump in my seat. Fortunately it didn’t break, but it will if they take another shot at it.

  I glance down at the bloody mess just above my waist. Just looking at it sends more pain shooting through me.

  I’m already dying.

  Better to follow in Sirena’s footsteps than at the hands or hooks of these deep-sea motherfuckers!

  The migraine passes and I realize what I have to do now. I feel another surge of adrenaline taking over – a surge that is seemingly overriding the agonizing pain in my stomach.

  I let out a groan, smack the wheel and crank up the car.

  There’s a symphony of shrieks as I floor it and drag a bunch of the jelly-heads with me. They bounce around behind my car like tether balls, some of them flying away as their ropes snap, some of them flopping up and down, squealing like pigs.

  “Aww. You guys don’t like that?” I shout as I gun it down the aisle and cut a hard left. “Not so fun when you’re at the end of the rope, huh?”

  Snap, snap, snap.

  The last of the hitchhikers is thrown off and disappears between the other cars.

  The blue-green light tries to stay on me, but is doing a horrible job. I weave in between parked cars, abandoned cars, and more jelly-heads. They are everywhere.

  Sirena was right in her “insanity.”

  This is the feeding.

  The entire oceanic population is here to feast.

  And we’re the buffet.

  The storm doesn’t let up, dumping wave after wave of angry rain, but I push through, finally escaping the mall parking lot. The streets prove to be no less of an obstacle course. There are cars littered everywhere. Their doors half-open. Windows smashed. Piles of clothing strewn all over the place. Piles that were once people.

  It looks like all of Fort L
auderdale decided to pack up and leave.

  Or at least they tried to. Just didn’t get very far.

  I navigate my way through the wreckage and make my way onto the highway where there isn’t as much vehicular clutter. Either folks made it where they were going, or the big sand dollars snatched them up before they could. I peek up at the sky for a second and, fortunately for me, I don’t see them hovering above.

  Well… not that I can tell. For all I know they could be tucked behind the clouds. Floating in the sky like zeppelins from hell.

  I’d rather not think about that.

  Instead, I’m trying to stay focused as I drive. Trying to ignore the unforgiving pain, the wooziness from the blood loss. Trying to keep my eyes on the prize – the beach where Sirena left me.

  The storm is unforgiving, pummeling my car with a meteorological vengeance. It’s as if God himself has a pressure washer aimed at my windshield. My wipers thrash about with such force, I’m afraid they’re going to fly off, but they don’t. Instead they do their job, keeping the glass just clear enough that I can see – beyond the abandoned wrecks and debris and the piles of desiccated individuals – beyond all of that is my exit.

  Before long, I’m parked at the very spot where Sirena made her final launch. There’s a short seawall, then about forty feet of sand, and then the Atlantic. This part of the beach is shallow, much like most of the Florida coast. Sirena’s car hadn’t gotten far into the ocean, so I still don’t understand why her body simply disappeared. The water’s just not that deep.

  However, today’s a different story. The waves are churning. The beach has been swallowed by seawater. If there is a storm surge or a storm tide or whatever the weathermen call it, if either or both of those are happening now, my Chevy will double as a submarine the minute I drive into the ocean.

  That’s if I go through with it.

  Maybe this is one of those moments that Pedro would be praying on. Seeking out some spiritual guidance. Although last I checked, suicide meant instant damnation. Still, I feel compelled to pull out his cross. On it, I notice that both sides are engraved. On the face: Psalm 29:3. On the back, a phrase runs along the cross vertically, inscribed in very small print: The voice of the Lord is upon the waters. The glory of God thunders.

  Been a long time since I prayed. Maybe this is a good time to administer myself my last rites–

  A lightning bolt hits me between the eyes. I slump over and rest my head against the wheel, gasping. Migraine pain coupled with the horrendous burning in my stomach is excruciating.

  You are so close to me, baby.

  “Sirena…” I say through clenched teeth, “Why are you in my head?”

  Because you’re in my heart.

  I’m rocked by another piercing jolt to the abdomen. I lean back and collect myself. That blanket of peace that normally consumes me when I come here is nowhere to be felt.

  Come to me.

  I close my eyes and whisper, “I’ve lost that sense of peace, Sirena. The peace you spoke of.”

  That’s because I’m withholding it from you. You must come to me to claim it.

  “No,” I say as I wince in pain. “I’ve lost my peace because… I’m dying.”

  Then come join me at the bottom already. Come back to the water. Come back to where life started.

  Shrill screams bring me back to my current reality.

  Come back to me.

  I open my eyes and find jelly-heads, dozens of them approaching from all sides. How did they get here so fast? How did they find me?

  Wait.

  Maybe it’s not that they’re that fast, or even tracking me specifically. Maybe there’s just that many of them. They’re everywhere. Hunting. It is the feeding after all. This is their invasion.

  And they’re closing in from all directions.

  All directions… except one.

  Straight ahead.

  The stormy waters of the Sirena’s grave.

  Come to me, love.

  The jelly-heads scream in unison and I have to cover my ears. Feels like my head is going to split in two.

  Another blast of pain in my stomach. This one worse than before. I let out a scream myself and smack my fist against the dashboard in an attempt to channel that pain somewhere else.

  Come be with me forever.

  Metal hooks latch onto the hood of my car. Another one clips the passenger side window, cracking it further. A blue-green circle lands on me, meaning death from above. If I just sit here, one of these fuckers is going to have me for lunch.

  Screw that. If I’m going to die, better by my own hands then by theirs.

  It’s what my mind subconsciously wants anyway – penance for my selfish actions. For inadvertently sending Sirena to her death.

  Come to me.

  If I was even able to survive the invasion of body suckers and the gunshot wound, Sirena’s voice would always haunt me because her voice is my voice. And that part of me, that part that knows I was wrong for breaking our vows, will never let me live in peace.

  I rev the engine several times, mentally preparing myself for what I’m about to do.

  Three more hooks bite into the car and I catch one of the jelly-heads glaring at me. Head cocked to one side. Its ropes taut against its chest. Almost seems like it’s trying to figure out what I’m up to.

  I give him the middle finger and then gun it.

  The car roars, skids, and leaps over the sea wall and dives into the roiling waves below.

  There’s an explosion of water. It smacks the windshield with such force, I think the entire pane will give, but it doesn’t. The seatbelt locks around my torso and jams right against the bullet wound. The pain is so brutal I almost pass out.

  I’m still conscious, conscious enough to feel the weight of the car as I sink to the ocean floor. The descent isn’t very deep, as far as I can tell, but I’m deep enough that I can’t see the dark gray skies above.

  It’s pretty horrifying. I’m sitting in pitch black, underwater, with the gurgling sounds of water making its way into every hole, every fissure, and every crevice of my Chevy.

  Oh, and there’s also the sound of glass… splintering.

  Most likely the passenger side window slowly giving in.

  Even if Sirena were here – which would be miraculous and near impossible given an array of variables and realities – I wouldn’t be able to see her.

  The splintering sounds grow louder. It’s only a matter of moments before the window shatters and the cabin fills with water and I drown.

  I hear something bump into the car, no, the window. Floating debris kicked up by the storm perhaps? The blood loss has me feeling cold now, groggy. I might actually pass out before I drown.

  Blue-green lights illuminate the immediate water surrounding me. It’s as if something under or near the car suddenly threw on a switch.

  This light is followed by a muffled, almost distant, shrill scream.

  Great.

  Those things found me.

  Another thud. This time, right next to me. I turn in my chair, expecting to find a jelly-head at my window, but instead of goggles, I’m met with a pair of stony blue eyes.

  “Sirena,” I whisper.

  She doesn’t blink. Her eyes seem to look past me. An empty gaze.

  Her hair fans out in all directions, gently swaying to the will of the current. The skin on her face perfectly preserved. Still beautiful. A beauty I could not fully appreciate until now.

  Amazing.

  There’s not an inch of decay on her–

  “Wait,” I whisper to myself. “How is that possible?”

  And suddenly Sirena blinks.

  I jump in my seat.

  Because I’m not dead, I hear her voice in my head as she mouths the words.

  “But… you drowned.”

  Are you sure?

  I’m not. My mind is reeling. The blood loss, the stress, the underlying grief have all finally manifested themselves as this – total dementia
.

  My guilt-fueled imagination is behind all of this.

  I told you that if you followed me into the water, I would forgive you.

  The passenger window sounds like lake ice cracking under pressure. I’ll be drinking saltwater in a few moments.

  And you did, my love. You were willing to die for me. To join me at the bottom. And so… I forgive you.

  “You do?”

  She nods.

  “For everything?”

  She nods again.

  “Sirena, I just don’t understand. How are you alive? How are you even communicating with me?”

  We don’t have much time. But just trust me. It won’t take long.

  “What won’t take long?”

  Remember. I also told you that if you followed me into the water, that I would show you the truth.

  “And what truth is that–”

  The window finally explodes. Water rushes into the cabin. Suddenly I can’t see a thing. Nor can I breathe. I bat my arms uselessly, then fumble for the seatbelt buckle but can’t seem to find it.

  And in a matter of seconds, the cabin is completely flooded.

  Internally I hear my own lungs, my throat, my diaphragm, all of my respiratory system choking, gasping, pleading for air.

  I turn my head back towards Sirena–but she’s not there.

  Maybe she was never there.

  She may have floated off into the ocean six months ago, but she never floated from my mind.

  Insanity lead me here. Here where I belong.

  The blue-green lights fade – no doubt some passing nomadic colony of algae had briefly been the source – leaving me alone in my aquatic coffin.

  The cabin goes black as my body twitches. I’m in the throes of death.

  This is what it feels like.

  And this is how she passed away.

  Suddenly the twitching stops. My body quits moving. My lungs give up. I can feel it in my bones… I’m going to die… right now.

  But before I do… something brushes up against my face… and I feel something slip into my mouth.

  Chapter 6

  My eyes flutter open and I’m face first in the sand. A gentle wave brings fresh saltwater into my mouth – I cough several times and then push myself up onto my elbows. The storm has passed. There are no jelly-heads in sight and I’m alive – well, I can’t feel my legs, but fuck it. I’m alive!