Chapter 4 - The Shadow in the Surf
The water didn't roll in as a normal wave. It rose like a solid, black wall of glass, fifty feet high, blocking out the overcast sky entirely.
Thomas scrambled back against the basalt cliff, dragging the baby into his lap and wrapping his blue rain jacket around her tiny, shimmering tail. He clutched her against his knit sweater, shielding her head with his body as he looked up in absolute horror at the towering wall of water.
Inside the clear, dark face of the giant wave, something moved.
It was colossal. A silhouette at least eighty feet long, serpentine yet armored with massive, iridescent plates that caught the dim daylight. Two vast, glowing golden eyes—the size of ship portholes—burned through the dark water, fixed entirely on Thomas and the child in his arms.
A colossal tail, wide as a house and glowing with an intense, emerald-green light, broke through the crest of the wave.
THUMMMMM.
The giant fin struck the air with terrifying force, smashing down onto the ocean surface with a sound like an artillery shell exploding. A blinding sheet of white water and freezing spray blasted across the black beach, completely blinding Thomas as he squeezed his eyes shut and held the baby tight against his heart.
When the spray finally settled and the roar of the water retreated back into the depths, the ocean was eerie and flat once more.
Thomas opened his eyes, panting heavily, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.
The baby in his arms was completely unharmed. She looked up at him, her golden-green eyes bright with curiosity, her tiny hands clutching the gray wool of his sweater.
Thomas looked down at his arm. The red scratch on his index finger was completely gone. Where the torn skin had been, the flesh was smooth, pale, and entirely healed, leaving behind only a faint, silvery mark shaped like a crescent moon.
He looked out at the silent, gray sea, then down at the child in his arms.
"She gave you back to me," Thomas whispered, his voice trembling as he stood up on the slippery rocks, cradling the heavy, shimmering baby against his chest. "But she didn't give you back for free."
From the shadows of the cliff path above, a heavy rock dislodged, bouncing down the stone steps before falling into the surf with a quiet clack.
Thomas froze. He turned his head slowly, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the fog-drenched trail leading up to the lighthouse.
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Standing on the narrow dirt path fifty feet above him was a figure wrapped in a dark yellow oilskin slicker, holding a pair of heavy marine binoculars aimed directly down at Thomas and the creature in his arms.
It was Arthur Vance—Thomas's older brother, and the chief director of the Blackwood Oceanic Research Station.
