Dark Island Book 1 (Complete)

Chapter 10

Another wave came crashing against the ship, slamming me overboard.  I try not to scream as I dropped through blackness. Suddenly water closes over my face, stealing the breath from my lungs. I choke, and start kicking, hard, instinctively propelling myself away from the churning water frothing in the wake of the sinking vessel. Frantically, I kick myself up, straining toward air.  Drowning would not be good.  After a few seconds that felt more than hours, I break the surface with a gasp, gulping in giant lungful of oxygen as I kick harder and start using my arms to swim.  A striking pain ram through my leg but it didn't bother me at the moment. Determined, I kick harder, pumping my arms and pushing myself through the water with every ounce of strength I can master. 'Oh, please don't let there be any sharks lurking around here'
Then I push the fear of the unknown back, chalking it up as an unnecessary focus that is only going to freak me out if I keep thinking about it.  Bobbing along the surface of the water, I keep my head tilted skyward trying not to go underwater. Swimming hard, fighting the strong current paired with lazy swells, I started panting. Exhaustion is wearing me down.

The storm started to clear a little.  I glare up at the night sky, sprinkled with cheerful stars as I engage in a battle against the sea.  In the far distance, I spotted something that looks to be of some sort of island.  Flipping over on my back, I float for a few minutes kicking in the general direction of the island, but with less vigor.  Starring up at the speckled, moonlight sky, I can't help but appreciate the beauty, even if it does feel as though it's mocking me right now.
The moonlight flashes in the whitecaps of the waves, and despite my rising fear, it's almost peaceful.  Then the word shark invades my head again. I resume kicking faster and use my arms to windmill me in the direction of shore. Clenching my jaw in sheer stubbornness, refusing to stop kicking. My legs quiver from exertion, and my arms ache, but I grit my teeth and ignore all of it.  At least my stubborn streak is good for something.

After a while, I am so focused I don't even realize I'm nearly there, until suddenly I think I feel sand beneath my feet.  I gasp and flip back over on my stomach, waiting for the current swell to abate while I feel around with my toes.
"Yes!  I can feel sand. “I hold my breath and sink underwater.  Digging my toes into the ground for traction, I push myself forward breaking through the water, then sinking and doing it again, pushing myself closer and closer to the Beach's edge with every leap forward. I do this repeatedly, using the momentum to shove myself through the churning water.  The water pours off of me as the waves get shallower and shallower, now crashing around my hips rather than swelling. Slogging through the waves, first stumbling, and then all but crawling the rest of the way to the shore.  Head down, I fumble forward, face planting on the edge of the beach, water flooding up my nose. I choke a mouthful of salty sea. Out of nowhere, hands grip my arms, and yank me upright out of the waves.  I spit sand and water out of my mouth, coughing.  Dazed, I look up, water streaming from my eyes. The sting of the salt making them burn.  I can just make out the shape of a man. The man half drags me the rest of the way out the waves, before letting me go.  Once I am on dry land, I collapse, chest heaving, panting, every muscle in my body quivering with fatigue. The stranger reaches out as though to help me up, and I wave him away, trying to recover my breath.  Before I manage to fully catch it, he all but bellows in my ear. "Jack, it’s me Harold... "
My chest heaves.  Hunched over and still spitting gritty sand from my mouth. The moonlight has become so bright it could almost be daytime, so I have no trouble seeing him clearly, once water and blur is gone from my eyes. Looking up, I noticed it was Harold who dragged me to shore.
"Harold?  You are alive. "