by S. E. Rose
The purple dot is closer, maybe two hundred yards away or less. I want to call her name, although I know I shouldn’t. I keep reminding myself that I don’t know who else is here. The rocky walls surrounding me jut out in various directions. I can see caverns and caves periodically as I climb over rocks. A thick canopy of trees covers me, the daylight shining in streams between leaves as the storm begins to move past the island. I see a small pool of water ahead of me. The dot is close now less than a hundred yards.
I look around trying to see if the water is a natural spring or if it connects somehow out to the sea. I stick a finger in the water and taste it. It’s fresh. The water is amazingly clear, and I can see caverns down in the depth of the water. I follow the edge of the spring past a small waterfall. As I approach the dot, I stop. This can’t be right. I close the program on my phone and open it again. The dot reappears in the exact same place.
I look out at the spring, at the water, at the place where Vanessa should be. Without thought, I remove my shoes, my shirt and leaving them with my phone on the edge of the water. I look again at the dot and then it disappears. No, no, no!!
“Vanessa!” I cry out as I dive into the clear blue water swimming toward the bottom, hoping I find a phone and not Vanessa.