Surging Reef

There was one large rock near the boat, but no way to get there without either walking into the water or jumping on stones a little too far apart for Kazimir’s liking.

“Damn.” He walked closer. “How do we do it?” He met Pharos’ gaze and got a happy yip in reply.

“How deep do you think it is?” He couldn’t get Pharos’ cast wet. The vet hadn’t said anything about it, but he assumed he wasn’t allowed to since humans couldn’t shower with their casts.

Could he place Pharos on a rock, jump into the black water, and get the boat? A shiver shot through him. What if there were crabs on the ocean floor? Or jellyfish. He hated the feel of jellyfish. Slimy blobs with no sense of direction. They did nothing to avoid a collision when you were out swimming, and since it was August, lion’s mane jellyfish would have arrived.

He did not want to get stung.

He gazed into the dark water. He wouldn’t have to walk more than a few steps or swim if it were deep. It wouldn’t be deep, right? He squinted at the calm lapping against the rocks. Nah, it couldn’t be deep. The pole the boat was fastened to must be dug into the seabed.

He lowered Pharos to the rock. “Stay here.”

He toed off his shoes and undid his cargo pants, making sure his phone was in one of the pockets, and put them in his break-and-enter backpack. He pulled out the bolt cutter, not sure how the boat was attached to the pole, and left the backpack next to Pharos. “Guard it with your life, buddy. My phone is in there.” Then he slowly slid his feet into the water. He shuddered. Not because it was cold, it wasn’t, but because he didn’t have a clue what was hiding under the surface.

Bladderwrack seaweed was caressing his calves, and he closed his lips around a sound. He slid deeper into the water, the moon watching him as his underwear got soaked. Then he touched sand.

Blowing out a breath, he looked at Pharos, who was watching him with a tilted head. “Stay there, boy.” He moved forward and bumped his foot on a stone. Fuck. He hissed as his big toe voiced its displeasure, but moved forward. This was ridiculous. He was one step away from land, and his heart was beating a mile a minute.

Then he shrieked. There was no better word for it, but something was scurrying over his foot. He kicked, then before he was aware of what he was doing, he was swimming. No more feet on the ground. Fucking crabs or rockpool shrimps or whatever. Ugh.

Pharos yipped, and Kazimir forced himself to calm down. It was the sea. He went to the beach a few times a week, even to beaches without lighthouses nearby. The only difference was that it was dark.

“I’m okay. Stay.”

He swam a few one-handed strokes since he was clutching the bolt cutter in his right hand. His wet shirt was clinging to his body. Stupid not to get all the way undressed.

When he reached the rowboat, he made a triumphant sound. There was a chain hooked through a metal ring attached to the pole, and on the chain was a padlock.

The dull plop as the padlock fell into the ocean after he’d cut it shouldn’t be satisfying, but it was.

“We’re master thieves, Pharos.”

Pharos whined and moved on the rock.

“Stay.” The last thing they needed was for Pharos to fall into the water.

Kazimir swam toward Pharos, holding on to the chain in one hand and the bolt cutter in the other. He was sure Michael Phelps would’ve been impressed. Or not.

When his knee hit a rock, he reluctantly stood. He waited a second to see if something would wriggle under his feet, but nothing did.

“Right.” He pulled the boat closer and stepped up on the stone where the bladderwrack was growing. His knees were above the surface, and he curled his toes as best he could on the slippery rock as he grabbed the gunwale and brought the boat as close as possible.

First, he grabbed the break-and-enter backpack and put it on the seat, then he eyed Pharos. He couldn’t ask him to jump since he wasn’t allowed to jump, which meant he’d have to let go of the boat for the time it took to lift him. He carefully removed his hand, and when the boat didn’t move, he snatched Pharos as fast as he could and placed him on the deck or whatever you called the floor.

Now he had to get in himself. Damn.

He spun the boat, so the bow was aimed at Surging Reef, then he placed one foot on the deck and pushed away from the rock with the other. For a moment, he was sure they’d capsize, but then he more or less fell over the seat, and it stabilized.

“Fuck, Pharos. This is why we’re getting a lighthouse and not a houseboat. Lighthouses are sturdy things.”