Reese Choice 1
Swim south toward the drop off
Swim east toward kids
Grayson
He stood on the beach and stared out at the moonlit horizon. White light shone on the iridescent waves. The salt stung his nose and the wind rolling off glowing crests pulled tears from his eyes.
Someone laughed farther up the beach. He turned and saw Landon and Abigail trying to get the bonfire going. They were bent over the kindling. Abby’s lighter sparked, once, twice in the dark. Both times it revealed their faces hard with concentration.
“Birthday boy!” Landon yelled. “Get your ass over here and help us.”
Grayson’s bare feet sank deeper in the cool sand with each step. It squished up between his toes as the sea sprayed water onto his bare calves.
“I thought the point of having a birthday was so people would do things for me,” he said. But he extended his open palm toward Abby.
She handed the lighter over too willingly. “You’re better at this shit than the rest of us. Weren’t you a wood scout for six years or something?”
“Or something,” he said. Eight years was more like it. He struck the lighter and caught the soft brush on the first try. They’d been trying to burn the sticks themselves, not the soft nest he’d made for them out of dry grass and kindling. That was where they’d gone wrong.
“I can’t believe your parents let you go into the Western Woods as a kid,” Landon said, dragging his hand under this nose. He sniffed. “My parents still forbid me from going in there.”
“There’s a big difference between the Western Woods and the Wayward Woods.” Grayson fanned the sparks. “Even scouts don’t go in the Western Woods.”
In truth, the entire forest spanning Castle Cove County was called the Wayward Woods. But there was a clear distinction to all who knew better.
“Here we go,” Abby said with a teasing smile. He elbowed Landon in the ribs. “We’re about to get a lesson from Professor Richt.”
Landon snorted, settling down onto the sand beside her. The fire grew, illuminating both their faces with the warm orange glow.
Grayson affected a prim English accent and smoked an invisible pipe for comedic effect. “Yes, children, well, it is all about the territory line. If you go west of the territory line you will find yourself in the Western Woods. If you stay east of the territory line, and I highly suggest that you always stay east of the territory line, then you remain in the Wayward Woods. During the right times, and with the right company, the Wayward Woods are safe enough. You can’t be foolish out there, but you’ll likely be all right. However!” He pointed his finger into the air. “Under no circumstances should anyone cross the territory line into the Western Woods. Do you understand, children?”
“Yes, Professor Richt,” they both chimed. They always loved his impressions of their junior year history teacher. All Grayson was missing was a shock of wild gray hair and a mustache Mark Twain would be proud of.
“There are creatures in those woods. Old, ancient and hungry creatures. They will devour you alive. Or drag you screaming to their lairs, where they will eat you. Slowly.”
Landon shivered.
Then all three laughed.
Grayson dropped the act and sank down onto the sand beside them.
It was true he’d spent his summers scouting the Wayward Woods. He learned more about the flora and fauna of those woods than he thought possible. More about the seasons and cycles of the earth and what it meant to work in harmony with the land. But this education wasn’t the result of generous parents. Rather, they fully understood the dangers of living in a place like Castle Cove and they wanted their children well-equipped against any danger that might arise.
We can’t always be there to protect you, they’d said as they kissed his cheeks and sent him off into the woods. The people who get hurt are the people who aren’t prepared or who don’t understand what is going on around them. We want to raise you strong, Grayson.
Grayson knew that most parents kept their kids out of the darkest corners of Castle Cove. Abigail’s mom hadn’t even let her outside after sunset until she was sixteen. Landon’s parents still never let him go anywhere alone without at least two or three friends in tow.
By comparison, Grayson’s parents must seem like free-range hippies.
Maybe it was because both of his parents were from Los Angeles. To them, anywhere in the world could be dangerous. It didn’t matter if it was drugs or violence in LA or monsters in Castle Cove. Living required intelligent precautions.
Grayson watched the flames dance on the pyre, the wood crackling. His mind wandered. Eighteen. Tonight he was eighteen and he had to decide what he would do next.
He’d told UCLA that he would attend in the fall. He spoke of his love of nature in his admissions essay and was granted a scholarship to their conservation program. However, he also had an open invitation at Castle Cove University where his mother taught folklore.
Two paths were laid out before him. Two worlds offered him a place.
He had to decide which road he wanted to take.
His family had moved to Castle Cove when he was eight. He’d been in this town for ten years. He could stay here, and keep living this extraordinary life full of mystery and surprise, a life where unimaginable creatures and magic were very real. Or, he could leave and see what it was like to live in the outside world, a world he barely remembered.
Abigail pressed the bottom of her foot against his. The sand rubbed between their toes. “You trying to think of a way out of this? Because you’re going in the water, birthday boy.”
Grayson smiled. “I was thinking about school.”
“You excited about UCLA?” Landon asked.
“Maybe.”
“We’ll miss you,” Abby added. She’d pulled her bottom lip into her mouth when she said it. The look in her firelit eyes made Grayson’s heart hitch. She wasn’t supposed to look at him like that. Not with her boyfriend sitting beside her. But it was also the way she worked her lower lip. It was her I have something to tell you face, and yet she wasn’t speaking.
Grayson managed a smile. “I’ll be back before you know I’m gone.”
“Doubt it,” she said, looking out over the dark water.
“You’ll be busy at CCU,” he said. “Engineering is a rigorous program.”
She shrugged, trying for nonchalance. But Grayson saw the tightness in her shoulders.
Landon put an arm around her. “You’ll rock it, babe. Your brain is bigger than my stomach which we all know is enormous.”
It was true. He might be rail thin, but Landon ate enough for four grown men.
“And I’ve got that internship with your dad this summer,” Abigail said. She was looking at Grayson, searching his face as if hoping to see something there. “He’s going to teach me to calibrate the machines in the lab.”
“I think he’s more excited than you are.” Grayson was careful to keep his smile neutral. Perhaps if Landon wasn’t sitting so close to him, he would’ve dared a real smile. “When do you start?”
“In three weeks,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Will you be working there too?”
“Maybe.”
Grayson hadn’t missed the subtle advances she’d made in the last few months. The three of them had been friends since middle school. They had classes together, ate lunch together, and hung out together after school and on the weekends when Grayson didn’t have scouts. When Abigail and Landon started dating in tenth grade, he hadn’t been jealous.
But now...
In the fall, she’d joined the yearbook and school mag, The Circuit, which Grayson had worked on since his freshman year. His love of photography was second only to his love of nature. He knew Abigail didn’t care about either. At first he didn’t understand why she’d want to spend an extra two hours after school every day, until he started to notice the look.
Then she tried out for and made the crew team during winter.
She took—surprisingly, position seven, which had been vacated by a graduating senior the year before. By doing so, she’d become his able lieutenant to his position, stroke.
He’d known she was a good swimmer, and she’d always come to watch his team compete in the May races. But it was still clear why she was really there.
The only problem was Landon.
He loved Abigail even more than he loved food and had since second grade. If she dumped him for his best friend—for Grayson—no.
Just no.
Grayson knew it wasn’t worth it. Even if Abigail was beautiful and smart and brave and—
Abigail stood up from the fire and pulled her shirt over her head. Firelight danced across her bare breasts.
“Come on, birthday boy” she said, meeting his eyes.
Grayson did his best to keep his gaze fixed on hers.
Don’t look down, he thought. Don’t...
But her lips had already quirked into a smile. She knew she’d won. “You’re not getting any younger.”
“This is going to be cold,” Landon whined. He stood and shrugged off his shirt. He slid out of his shorts and stood in boxers.
Abigail offered a hand to Grayson, helping him to his feet. Grayson was reluctant to leave the warm fire, but Abigail was right.
Castle Cove teens had a rite of passage.
On their eighteenth birthday, they came down to Hunter’s Beach and swam the 800 feet from the shore to Heart’s Rock. If they chickened out, there was Coward’s Clutch, a small rock off to the left, a mere 350 feet from shore.
But the goal was to swim to Heart’s Rock under the mournful gaze of the full moon. Doing so would ensure that Castle Cove would always be your home. You could leave town and never worry that it would disappear on you, as it was wont to do for outsiders.
It just so happened that Grayson’s eighteen birthday was a full moon.
It wasn’t the swim itself.
It wasn’t the sharks, or jellyfish, or even drowning that he worried him. It wasn’t the idea of floating out there in the dark waves alone—because Abigail and Landon had both wanted to come with him. That was their tradition.
Landon was the first one to turn eighteen last October. After standing on the shore for fifteen minutes, it was clear he’d been afraid to get in the water. So they’d each taken one of his hands and pulled him in. Then the three of them swam to Heart’s Rock together.
He had wanted to take the detour to Coward’s Clutch, but they’d urged him on, staying beside him until he’d reached Heart’s Rock.
When Abigail turned eighteen in April, they’d done the swim again. Abby hadn’t been afraid, but they’d entered the water with her anyway.
Now it was June and Grayson’s turn. The waters would be warm and the swim pleasant.
So why was his throat thick with fear?
In a word: sirens.
Abigail seemed to read his face as she stood naked in the surf. “They don’t come into the cove. They might come onto the rock, but that’s when we jump off. No problem.”
That’s what they had done on Abigail’s birthday. A male siren had come onto the rock and sang to her until Landon got his fingers into her ears and pulled her back into the water.
Grayson kept his eyes on hers, but was hyperaware of her bare breasts glowing in the moonlight.
Landon wasn’t even trying to hide his gaze.
“Babe, real talk.” Landon cracked his neck to one side. “Are you going to be pissed if I fuck a mermaid?”
“Are you going to be pissed if I fuck a merman?” she retorted.
Landon frowned.
“Sirens just want love too.” Grayson tried to break up the tension forming between them.
Abigail snorted and walked out into the water. She beckoned Grayson forward. “You first birthday boy. This is your party.”
It was true that they were likely safe. This inlet was supposed to be off-limits. It was supposed to be safe. But sirens did come to the beach and there was a real danger of being raped or drowned by them.
Abigail was staring at him. He looked down, and saw the blade.
“Why do you always bring that?” she asked him. “This is the third time we’ve done this swim. Nothing happens.”
He looked at the six-inch blade strapped to his left forearm. He could see how it seemed paranoid. They’d completed the first two birthday swims with no need of a weapon. However, just because they hadn’t run into trouble before didn’t mean they wouldn’t find some tonight.
“Better safe than sorry,” he said, and stepped through the first wave. Cool water slapped his torso and he bent over protectively as if that would spare him.
“It’s June,” Landon whimpered, wading into the surf after him. “I thought it’d be warmer.”
Once it rose above Grayson’s thighs, he dove in.
He found a rhythm quickly. His freestyle crawl helped him stay on top of the waves as they buoyed and dropped him.
Salt stung his eyes, but it was bearable. The deeper the water got, the cooler it felt beneath him. He tried not to think about that. He tried not to think about sharks hunting the inlet for their nighttime meals. He tried not to think about what might be circling below.
He kept swimming.
A splash on his right made his heart lurch. But it was only Abby. She had caught up to him and was gaining.
He swam after her and tried to remember why they were doing this. It was a silly superstition. Or it would be, if this was any other town in the world. And the story was given credibility because it had been his mother—the head folklorist at CCU, who’d told him the story of Heart’s Rock.
Castle Cove is a unique town with its own history, she’s said. And all myths stem from fact.
Two myths centered on the large bolder jutting from the dark sea ahead.
First, there was a belief that Castle Cove only invited certain citizens. One had to be chosen in order to even find the town on the map, to even see the exit from the highway. Both his mother and father had been offered jobs here, though they hadn’t applied for them. The head-hunting scout had worked hard to sell the town to them. And once they’d arrived, they quickly realized why this town was...unique.
The second myth that made swimming 1600 feet beneath a full moon remotely tempting, was the idea that in order for children to remain in the town, in order to remain chosen, they needed the cove’s blessing—and that was only achieved by touching Heart’s Rock, the metaphorical and perhaps literal, heart of Castle Cove.
And while Grayson wasn’t sure he wanted to stay in this town, he also wasn’t sure he wanted to chance being cast out of it either.
His knee scraped something rough the same time he slapped the granite surface of the rock. He pulled, hefting himself out of the water.
His arms burned. His chest ached. The swim felt harder than it should have been. The waves were doubling in size now. Or perhaps the tide had turned against them. He looked up at the sky and saw thick gray clouds rolling in. It masked the moon like a shroud.
Abigail hauled herself out of the water a minute later, coughing. He offered an arm and she took it. Her skin was cold to the touch.
“Whew,” she said, laughing. “Refreshing.”
“Where the hell did that storm come from?” he asked, wiping water from his face. He looked out toward the horizon and saw the spiderweb of lightning spread across the sky.
“Right? Those waves are crazy.”
He checked his arm and found the blade snug in its sheath. Maybe he would look stupid for bringing it after all.
“Gray—” Abby said. “I need to talk to you, okay?”
His heart crept up his throat. “About what?”
“Something important. Not tonight, but we need to talk.”
“Okay.”
“Without Landon,” she said. She searched his face. “So don’t say anything.”
“Okay,” he said, feeling like a parrot.
He looked out over the water,
searching for Landon almost guiltily. He was struggling with the last ten feet.
“Come on,” Grayson said, clapping as if to cheer him on. “You can do it, buddy.”
When he got close enough, they heaved him out of the water.
“Man,” he said, coughing. “Was it me or did it feel like swimming upstream there at the end?”
Grayson pointed at the sky. “A storm is coming in.”
“We’ll rest before swimming back,” Abby said, dragging a hand down her face to clear the water. “But not for too long. My nipples are going to freeze off.”
“I can help with that,” Landon said. But his teeth were chattering.
Abby snorted. “Worry about yourself, Jack Frost.”
Grayson looked north over his shoulder at the cliff face. There sat the castle ruins for which the town was named. It was a dilapidated structure cutting the sky. Something flew above the highest remaining spire.
Bats, he thought, but whatever it was looked too large to be a bat, even if it was flying like one. Perhaps a nightjar then.
A deep ache formed in his chest.
He would miss Castle Cove. As strange as this place might be and perhaps as unsafe for a human like him, it still felt like home.
A cold hand brushed his arm and he looked down, half expecting to see a siren pulling itself out of the water onto the rock that marked neutral territory.
But it was Abigail. She squeezed harder and gave him a smile. “Happy birthday, Gracie.”
Instinctively, his eyes darted toward Landon, but the other boy was trying to blow something out of his nose.
“God, I hate salt water,” Landon grumbled, hacking into the sea.
“We have a lake,” Abigail said. Her voice was perfectly calm as if she wasn’t holding Grayson’s hand at all.
Landon laughed. “With water demons in it. No, thanks. I’ll stick to the city pool.”
“The pool’s haunted,” Grayson said. He marveled at how calm his voice was—as if his heart wasn’t knocking wildly in his throat.
“I’ll take my chances.”
His hand was warming in hers. He was about to withdraw when she let go and stood.
Night Tide Page 2