Page 50

Story: Chasing Riddick

Alexa Play: Numb by Holly McNarland

T he tension and pull of the water beneath my board were reminiscent of a great-scaled beast coiling itself in preparation for battle.

The energy of the building wave was humming through the air and sparking across my skin. I could feel the call of the water as it gathered in a great, rushing siphon of devastation.

Allowing myself to be pulled into the frothing mouth of the watery demon, I shuddered with anticipation.

It was hungry .

It needed more . More salt, more energy, more lives to sustain it as it grew and grew at an impossible rate.

A flicker of something other than excitement ignited in my chest as I turned my board, relying on muscle memory to position me in such a way that I knew the water would pick me up and take me for the ride of my life.

As I rose with the swell, I examined the strange feeling, curious as to what emotion this monster had stirred up in me.

Was it fear? Was this what fear felt like?

No.

It was anger.

I was startled, shocked at the strangeness of feeling angry with the ocean.

My muscles bunched instinctively as the surface pulled away from me at an alarming rate.

I was bracing myself against my board, and before I knew it, my feet were planted, and I was upright.

Adrenaline and rage roared through me with as much power as the enormous wall of water that continued to grow at my back.

I was suddenly so high up that Jake and Makoa were mere dots beneath me. It was like time stopped for a long, pregnant moment, and everything froze.

The wave hesitated as I addressed it.

“You killed him,” I whispered to the ocean as if it could hear me. Time rippled, and suddenly, the anger I was feeling made sense.

The water—this thing that I loved— had also taken something so huge from me that I could barely understand the magnitude of the loss.

Jake and I would never be able to get married or grow old together. We could never go to Australia and check out the surf scene there. We couldn’t travel across the states to visit all the different beaches.

We would never ride in surf competitions together. He would never be able to come with me to cheer me on if I ever made it to the Olympics.

Jake would always have to stay here until one day, whatever it was that kept him here, decided it was time for him to go, and he would fade away.

My pink board cut through the water with the force of a blade as I fell back into position, my eyes narrowing with determination .

“I’m gonna fuck you up,” I spat at the wave, and I could have sworn the ocean laughed at me as I tore horizontally across the now nearly vertical incline of water that was trying to eat me alive.

I was eighty feet in the air. So much adrenaline was pumping through me that I was sure I wasn’t breathing.

The second I realized I wasn’t, I focused on my breath, remembering what Jake had taught me all those weeks ago.

‘The most important thing you can do on this Earth is breathe.’

Inhale .

Carve.

Slice.

The beast roared as it began to close its mighty jaws.

‘Breathing properly means you’re present.’

Exhale.

Cut.

Slash.

The wave crested, and it began to break behind me. I leaned forward, training my gaze on the end zone, instinctively finding myself a safe place to land.

‘Breathing means you’re locked in. Focused.’

I was. I was so fucking locked in…

The thunder and crash of the water behind me sent a thrill up my spine. The demon screeched as it cannibalized itself, urging me to press forward even more. I willed my board to go faster, cut deeper.

To make this bitch bleed.

I tore out the end of the pipe, catching literal air as I exited the wave. Skipping expertly across the surface of the ocean, I whooped as I landed exactly where I had planned.

The momentum of my exit took me halfway to shore and safety. I chanced a glance over my shoulder to relish in the collapse of the Leviathan I had just slain.

I was smiling from ear to ear, my heart racing so fast I was sure that the screaming and cheering crowd on the beach could hear each thump .

But it wasn’t them I cared about.

All I cared about were the blue eyes that watched me as I sped toward shore, those full lips that curled into a smile, and the pure look of pride Jake was giving me as I flattened myself on my board so I could paddle toward him.

With each stroke, his voice rang through my mind, and my eyes filled with tears as I made my way home.

‘Breathing, Finn, means that you’re alive.’