by Lewis, D. C.
Making sure to wave back at the passing boats, a courtesy expected by all on the water, regardless of what they were piloting, Kiera came up to the main bridge over the waterway. Towering over one-hundred feet in the air, it was built to have enough clearance for any number of ships to pass uninjured under its arches. A few years ago a man had gotten drunk and decided it was a good idea to jump from the very apex, not taking into account that it was low tide. He landed with such force that the shallow water wasn’t able to fully break his fall and he sank up to his neck in the mud at the bottom. While the fall didn’t kill him, being unable to get out of the naturally occurring straitjacket of mud caused him to drown. Had it not been for a passing motorist witnessing the fall, his body probably would have never been found.
Underneath the bridge was also the market where the fishermen came to sell their catch. All types of seafood could be found here, from fish to crustaceans, it all could be had for the right price, but there was no better seafood to be found. The rusted tin building easily covered a few acres and employed two dozen or more workers, all busily going about their day, making sure conveyors were running and ice machines were constantly pumping out the precious solid, else they risked losing entire inventories of product.
A distinct and unmistakable smell came from the market, dominated by the smell of the rotting seafood that went bad and was thrown back into the waterway. While an outsider would see this as being irresponsible, it actually was more beneficial than allowing it to rot on land, since it provided food and other nutrients for the scavengers of the sea. Crabs, shellfish, and shrimp all thrived on the decomposing remains of other sea life. Acting like nature’s own trash men, they rid the seafloor of this waste and in turn, were caught by fisherman in order for them to continue making a living. Just one of life’s many circle, showing how everything, everywhere is connected.
The smell was neither stomach-turning or pleasant to Kiera's sensitive sense of smell. For the most part she was indifferent to it other than the fact that it reminded her of the bag of trash she had lugged through the woods the day prior.
Picking back up speed and blasting underneath the bridge and emerging from the other side like a rocket shot towards space, Kiera planned on making the circuit, going all the way down the waterway, doing a U-turn, and heading back home on the beach side. A twenty-mile trip in all, provided she didn't take any side trips other than stopping at the marina to fill up her tank.
The “No Wake” zone started about a quarter mile before the entrance to the marina. The Coast Guard was very adamant about enforcing it as well, as Kiera knew from firsthand experience. She had been chased by them a few years ago when she hadn’t been paying attention and blasted through this area doing sixty miles an hour. She had eluded them, but unfortunately she didn’t elude her mother’s wrath, since she had gotten a long lecture and a threat of taking her jet ski away.
Apparently there weren’t many girls in town who looked like Kiera, and even less who had access to watercraft like hers. It didn’t take the Coast Guard long to figure out who it was. The fact that Kiera’s mother was a prominent figure in town also didn’t help matters.
Idling through the zone, Kiera’s impatience threatened to sabotage her compliance with the rules, and fortunately a dockhand was readily available to gas her up. Around sixteen or so, the kid helping her out was incredibly shy. She could feel him look at her when her back was turned, he never having the courage to look her in the eyes when they were facing. Just an everyday occurrence for Kiera, she had had that effect on boys for a long time. She didn't really understand why they seemed to be so insecure around her, almost as if they anticipated she was going to eat them. They would probably run screaming if they knew her true nature. The vision made her chuckle, which the young lad took as her making fun of him, and his face turned a bright red.
How she wished that guys would just come up to her and talk. She would be totally receptive to conversation, as opposed to feeling like an outcast. Girls like a guy who can talk, she had tried to explain many times to her male friends at college. You didn't have to be the best looking guy as long as you could hold a conversation and be interesting. Evidence for this was all around, guys dating girls who should be out of their “league.” What people didn't realize was that these guys had nothing to lose and laid it all on the line, having the courage to go and strike up a conversation with a desirable female when their more attractive counterparts were too afraid. The whole thing was silly in Kiera’s mind, but stayed as one of those numerous games played between the sexes.
Flashing her best smile, she gave him forty dollars, telling him to keep the change. A seventeen-dollar tip should ease his concern. For the first time, he made eye contact with her, smiled, and thanked her profusely. Little random acts of kindness like this always made her feel good for the chance to brighten someone’s day.
Back in the saddle and on her way, Kiera gunned it once past the “No Wake” zone opposite the first. Her next destination was The Point, where she would do her U-turn and head back home. The Point, as it was called by the locals, was where the road ended and became beachfront that one could drive on. Jutting out into the ocean, it was the main thoroughfare for fish to seek the calmer waters of the waterway, thus making it prime fishing territory. Since the city allowed camping on the beach, it was typically populated by a number of trucks, campers, and tents, some people driving hours to come spend the weekend on the beach fishing. With the meeting of two different currents, The Point’s water was very choppy, almost rough in some points, which produced some very enjoyable conditions to jet-ski, creating natural ramps for the brave person to hit at high speed and send themselves sailing dozens of feet through the air. This was what Kiera had been looking forward to.
The ride from the marina took less than fifteen minutes as Kiera kept her speed around fifty. The beach was starting to be dotted with the occasional car - the closer she got to The Point, the more populated it became. She had to become increasingly wary of the numerous fishing lines reaching out towards the middle of the inlet. Having one of those sucked into her engine would do thousands of dollars worth of damage and leave her stranded miles from home at the mercy of the current which wasn’t now flowing in that direction.
As more and more people came into sight, Kiera couldn't help but show off for her audience. She began pinning her craft in three-hundred sixty degree turns, sending veils of water spraying in all directions. Then she would spin around and blast back over her own wake at high speed, to send herself flying through the air. People (mostly of the male gender) cheered and taunted her onward, clapping their hands and cat-calling. It is all very rewarding for Kiera.
It was during one such exhibition that Kiera happened to glance towards the shore and what she saw almost caused her to lose control and send herself flying off her WaveRunner to land in embarrassment in the water.
There, parked by itself, as if it were intentionally segregated from all the other vehicles, sat Larissa’s beaten-up blue van, complete with the “I Love My Dog” sticker on the bumper. Kiera’s heart jumped to her throat as she gazed upon the vehicle of the woman who tried to kill her, sitting there like a beacon of defiance. Kiera felt panic rise and suddenly felt very exposed and foolish for coming out in public like this and drawing attention to herself. She knew that even if Larissa had intentions of finishing what she had started, there would be no way even in her Lycoan form to reach Kiera while she was in the middle of the waterway, one-hundred feet from shore. Not to mention that Larissa wouldn’t risk exposure. Still Kiera felt vulnerable.
Kiera could see a figure moving around in the front seat, whether Larissa or someone else she couldn’t tell and didn’t want to find out. Coming back to her senses, she decided it to be in her best interest to get home with all possible speed. Katrina must be informed of this, it was imperative that Kiera tell her immediately.
Pointing her jet ski back towards the direction of home, Kiera ignored her fans and
their jubilations, wanting nothing more than to be off the water. The activity that was just so recently enjoyable had turned into something that she wanted to end. The sounds of the cheers from the people on the beach quickly fade as she raced back to her mother's, for once hoping that Katrina was there.
Doing her best to ignore the wind as it battled her naked eyes, she gave her mechanical steed maximum throttle, the speedometer easily going past seventy five. Her mind was awash with questions. What was Larissa doing there? How did she manage to sneak back into town without her mother finding out? All were questions that she would ask once she got back home.
The journey back was seeming to take forever as it always does when you are in a hurry to get somewhere. Ignoring the "No Wake" zone, Kiera plowed through it at high speed. Getting this information to Katrina was much more important than obeying a sign. The Coast Guard would just have to chase her. Going at the speed she was, she wasn't in the zone for more than ten seconds, so the odds of someone seeing her not obeying the sign were slim.
Taking a glance over her shoulder to give her eyes a break from the oncoming wind, but also to see if she were being pursued, she was relieved to see that neither the Coast Guard nor anybody else was behind her.
The water closer to home had gotten much choppier as the day had progressed, and Kiera was forced to slow down since the waves were beating her senseless. One rather large one had come upon her unawares. Not being prepared for it, she didn't grip her WaveRunner with her knees so when she landed they banged up against the side of the fiberglass center console, which was painful even for a Lycoan.
If Kiera thought the trip was going slow before, it was barely moving now. The urgency she felt at wanting to get home as quickly as possible caused time to seem to slow. It was with a big sigh of relief that she saw the pier came into view. Now, if only Katrina was home.
Kiera opened the forward compartment and had the rope ready before she even came up along the pier. Quickly tying the rope to one of the pilings, she was going to have to leave her WaveRunner there for the time being, not wanting to wait the twenty minutes or so it was going to take to bring it out of the water with the lift. Making sure the current was carrying craft away from the pier, Kiera hoped the flow of water wouldn't change direction anytime soon or else her little Yamaha would become lodged under the deck and sink.
Speeding up the ladder, she ran down the pier, not bothering to take her life jacket off. Her legs were still a little stiff from her altercation and from being in a straddled position for the past three hours, so it took a couple of strides before she had worked all the kinks out and then she was running at full speed.
Bursting through the back door, Kiera's balance threatened to give out from under her when wet feet met wood floor. Sliding like she was on ice, she crashed into the wall, jarring a picture frame loose, which she manages to catch before it falls to the ground.
"Mother!" she yelled, hoping to hear Katrina answer "Mother!"
"Kiera?" came her mother's startled response from the kitchen.
Running towards the sound of her mother's voice, Kiera's relief at knowing that her mother was home caused her body to quiver. She had counted so much on Katrina's being there that she hadn't even considered what she would have done otherwise.
Katrina met Kiera at the entrance to the kitchen, a look of concern on her face since she had rarely, if ever, heard the distress in her daughter's voice that she did at this moment.
Doing her best not to slide into her mother as she did the wall, Kiera found herself suddenly out of breath when she tried to talk. Finally ridding herself of the encumbrance of the life jacket, she tossed it to the floor and bent over, attempting to catch her breath.
"Kiera what is wrong?" Katrina asked as she laid a hand on her daughter's back in an attempt to soothe her.
"Blue...," was the only word Kiera could get out between gasps, the mixture of excitement, panic, and relief overwhelming something as basic as her ability to verbally communicate. This was definitely a time when knowing how to pass along a scent dream would have been very useful.
"Blue?" Katrina repeated aloud, then said it silently a few more times as it dawns on her what Kiera is trying to tell her. "Blue van? Did you see Larissa's blue van?" she asked, a dangerous tone in her voice.
Still trying to catch her breath, Kiera nodded her head frantically, the bobbing creating a flurry of blonde waves through the air.
The change in Katrina was immediate, from concerned mother to Alpha female. Removing her hand from her daughter's back, she stood up straight, her shoulders back, and a neutral look on her face, but her eyes were orbs of fury.
"Where?" she asked as an Alpha female not as Kiera's mother, in a voice that would tolerate no foolishness or attempts at deceit.
Pulling three deep breaths into her young lungs, Kiera had recovered and calmed down enough to answer her mother's questions.
"At The Point" was all she could get out before he mother turned around and walked away. Kiera pitied anything that got in her way. Katrina was on a mission and would not be deterred.
Curiosity overcoming her, Kiera trailed after her mother to find her on the phone, talking firmly into the receiver.
"Yes, down at The Point, a beaten-up blue van." Katrina pauses as the person on the other end spoke, Kiera couldn't make out what was being said but it sounded like a man's voice. "That would be appreciated," Katrina continued. "I will be home all day," she said and hung up the phone, ending the conversation.
"Officer Randolph is going to go check it out," she told her daughter.
"Is that a good idea?" Kiera blurted out without thinking receiving a glare from her mother. Quickly recovering and wanting to deflect any possible forthcoming argument, she added, "I mean, what if Larissa is there, won't he be in danger?"
Seemingly satisfied with her daughter's recovery from her verbal diarrhea, Katrina picked the phone back up as she replies, "Which is why I am sending some packmates to scout the area out before he gets there. I will not put him or our secret in danger. I also want an explanation as to how she got back into town without us knowing immediately. Someone will have some answers for me." Still in full Alpha female mode, Kiera knew that the person who let Larissa slip through would rue the day of their mistake and would pay dearly for the blunder.
"Go clean up," Katrina commanded Kiera as she punched in numbers on the phone, "You smell like seaweed."
Nodding her head in agreement, Kiera heads to the back deck to use the outdoor shower. As she was exiting the back door, she could hear her mother speaking firmly to someone on the other end. While Katrina's voice never got raised, the tone was authoritative and brooked no argument. Kiera felt sorry for the second member of that conversation, having been on that side numerous times.
Wanting to tidy things up at the dock first, Kiera headed back down before rinsing off. Even though Katrina hardly ever used the pier and hadn't once gotten on any kind of watercraft, she would still be annoyed to know that Kiera left a job unfinished.
Everything was exactly as she had left it, much to her relief. Hanging the life jacket back on the rack in the boathouse, she began the time-consuming process of bringing her watercraft back out of the brackish water. Such a tedious chore, but one that was necessary. Oh, how she just wanted this to be over. Not just her current duty, but the whole Larissa debacle, including her own Lycoan nature. Things seemed so unnecessarily complicated and it was all due to being a Lycoan. She seriously doubted humans had issues as dire as these. In fact from what she had experienced in human life, their trials seemed mundane, typically revolving around money or relationships. Rather trivial in Kiera's mind, but these sure did seem to take up enough of their time.
"Try being the heir to an Alpha female," she said to an unassuming box sitting in the corner of the boathouse, and was alarmed when the box moved. Inching closer she could see something furry that made a home inside the dilapidated old container. Giving it a swift kick, she was rewarded
with a hiss. Not to be intimidated, Kiera grabbed an old wooden paddle from the rack on the wall and started prodding the box, each poke with the long pole causing the box to deteriorate more until it was barely recognizable. Whatever was using this as its home was not going to be deterred and held its ground, hissing the entire time. Having enough of the tomfoolery, Kiera changed tactics and went for the source of the defiance, giving the furry mass a firm poke with the paddle. The smaller combatant, realizing that it was not intimidating the much larger aggressor, decided that escape was the best course of action and ran for the dark part of the boathouse much further away from Kiera.
Out from the security of its lair, Kiera could easily see that she was dealing with a juvenile opossum, which was wanting nothing more than to sleep the day away so that it could continue its nighttime activities.
Scurrying away, the opossum glanced over its shoulder, giving Kiera a hateful glare.
"Get out of here!" Kiera yelled at it, waving the paddle in front of her.
The opossum stopped and hissed once more at the blonde annoyance, to which Kiera promptly threw the paddle at it, missing it by only a few inches. The opossum finished its scurry into the dark recesses of the boathouse while pondering the intelligence of its final defiance.