Beyond the Sea (29 page)

“Poor thing,” Melia cooed, setting the filthy animal and the flashlight on the counter. Too scared to move, the cat shivered and growled. She opened the fridge and poured a bowl of milk.

“I wouldn’t give it that much,” Peter advised. “It will probably puke it all up.”

“You’re right,” Melia said and dumped half of the milk back into the jug. She carried the cat and the milk upstairs and into her bathroom. She folded a towel into a make-shift bed, set the cat down on it and snuck out of the room. “I’ll let him eat first,” Melia told Peter. “Then I think he needs a bath.”

“I can’t believe that thing is still hanging around,” Peter said, astonished.

Still hanging around? It was the first time Melia had—oh, right. “Yea, it must know I have food.”

“It must.” He took Melia’s hand and led her to the balcony. She sat on his lap and kissed him. Wolfy barked in the distance. Melia pushed her eyebrows together and stood.

“That’s way more fierce than normal,” she said as she moved to the railing. And it sounded far away. Too far to be in the safe confines of her fenced in yard.
 
“Wolfy!”

More ferocious barks echoed across the rocky beach. “Wolfy!” she called again.

Silence.

Then a howl and a high pitched yelp. Melia turned and ran. Peter shot up and followed her, somehow able to logically remember to grab the flashlight off the kitchen counter. Fear coursed through Melia’s veins as they tore across the yard. The gate was open! Why had she let Wolfy near the water? Why hadn’t she gone with? She knew what lurked under the dark waves. She had felt the eyes spying for weeks…and she had ignored it. Now it might cost her her dog.
 

“Wolfy!” she screamed into the night. It never took this long to get to the beach before. Melia ran faster, tripping over the uneven ground. She would have fallen if Peter hadn’t reached out and caught her. “Thanks,” she breathed and pushed forward again. Finally, they skidded to a stop on the sandy shore. “Wolfy! Where are you?” Melia’s voice broke.

Peter took her shaking hand. “We’ll find him,” he promised, scanning the water. Had it been this windy earlier? Melia folded into his embrace. He kissed the top of her head. “Maybe he went this way.” Peter pointed south, away from the public beach.

It was darker here, Peter noted. Commodious, cold rocks studded the shoreline. They walked through uneven footing around a boulder. Peter gripped Melia’s hand; he eyed each shadowy overhang and cave suspiciously, recalling the unknown creepiness he felt Wednesday night. The rocky part of the hillside jutted out, making passage impossible. Melia stepped into the water with no hesitation. After a split second Peter followed suit.

A cave in the hillside loomed ahead. Melia glanced at Peter and went inside. Peter nodded, turned on the flashlight and led the way. They stepped out of the water onto slippery stone. A low growl rumbled, echoing off the cavern walls.

“Wolfy!” Melia cried. The giant dog limped over. “He’s bleeding!”

“Where?” Peter asked, reaching out in the darkness to feel Wolfy’s rough coat.

“His leg,” she told him, almost forgetting his vision was hindered in the dark, despite the weak light of the flashlight.

Peter knelt down, examining Wolfy’s right front leg. “It looks like something bit him. We should go.”

Melia was about to agree. Something splashed. She whipped her head around to see ripples moving across a tide pool. She strode over and knelt down, leaning over the water. It was murky; still, she could see movement. And the water was deep, way deeper than a typical tide pool. She apprehensively reached out, ready to stick her fingers in the water to try and feel what swam beneath.

Wolfy growled.

A slimy, wrinkled hand shot out of the water and grabbed Melia’s wrist. With one strong yank, it pulled her in.

Kappa, it’s a kappa.
Melia knew it right away. She could see its beady black eyes and the depression in the top of its head. She knew better than to struggle; kappas love a good battle of strength. The kappa dragged her down. “You can’t drown me, you idiot!” she shouted, rolling her eyes. She was really getting tired of things trying to drown her. The kappa grumbled and gripped her injured wrist tighter. “Ow! You’re hurting me. Let go!” It snarled and snatched her other hand.

Peter looked up just in time to see Melia get pulled underwater. He froze, his brain not wanting to believe it was true. The flashlight fell from his limp grip and rolled across the cave. He blinked and sprang up. Wolfy arched his back and bared his teeth; his eyes fixed on something behind Peter. Peter was only a few feet away from jumping in the water after Melia when something hit him.

It felt like a baseball bat had been swung, hitting him in the back. He staggered, feeling instant pain. The thought of who attacked him didn’t cross his mind. All he thought about was Melia. He suffered another blow, this one on the back of his legs and he fell, hitting his knees hard on the rocky floor.

Wolfy snapped at something. A small round figure scurried past and lunged onto Peter, sinking its teeth into his shoulder. He rolled over, pinning it down under his weight. It let go and hissed, clawing at the rocks to get away. That’s when Peter got a good look at it.

It was small, probably standing only four feet. Its skin was a gray-green, wrinkled and slimy. It had sunken in cheeks, dark, small eyes, a beak-like nose and a mouth full of sharp teeth. Wispy red hair surrounded a shallow depression in its head. It grabbed Peter’s leg and attempted to drag him, struggling to hold its head upright. Its clawed hands flew up to cover the depression, as if it was trying to keep the water from splashing out. Peter shoved its head down. Water poured out of the depression. The Kappa screeched and scrambled back into the water.

Peter clumsily rushed to the pool. “Melia!” he yelled, though he knew she couldn’t hear him. Wolfy gave a warning bark. Peter turned around just in time to see another hideous creature lunging. It landed on his back and pushed him into the water.

“This will get boring, you know,” Melia warned the kappa. “And wait until I have a word with Actassi about this. You guys will
never
be allowed near this beach again. Trust me!” She sighed. “You better let me go before my human companion realizes just how long I’ve been underwater, ok?”

Peter voice echoed from above. “See! Let me—” she cut off as she watched Peter sink beneath the surface. The kappa held onto her tighter. She watched in horror as Peter’s attacker clawed and bit at him. “No!” she cried and yanked one hand free. The kappa tried to hold onto her. It was the stronger swimmer, she couldn’t get away.

Not in her human form at least. She transformed, and with one swift swish of her tail, was able to break free of the kappa’s death grip. She swam to Peter, punched the kappa in the face, wrapped her arms around him and swam to the surface.

Coughing, Peter clawed his way out of the water. Melia jumped out of pool easily, shimmying away from the water’s edge. Her heart racing from fear, she gripped Peter.

“Melia,” he said between coughs. “Are you ok?”

“Yea, I…” she drifted and looked down.
I have a tail
. Shaking her head she replied. “I’m fine.” With a shudder she shifted back. “Let’s go.”

Peter was hurt. He was bruised and bleeding. His pulse beat a million miles an hour and his hands shook. His lungs burned from inhaling so much water. But that didn’t matter. All that did was that Melia was ok. He struggled to stand. “I thought you were dead,” he confessed. “I was so scared.”

“I was too.” Melia cast a wary glance at the pool. “We need to go before they come back.”

“What the hell are they?” Peter took her hand.

“Kappas.”

“What?”

“I’ll explain later. Let’s go.”

Wolfy took the lead. The walk back home seemed to take hours. Melia was so worried about Peter. Blood stained his soaking wet shirt. He grimaced with each step. They frantically stumbled along the rock studded shore, not stopping or slowing down until they were in the safety of Melia’s house. Ignoring his pain, Peter locked the door and pulled Melia away from the window.

“Will they come after us?”

“No, they don’t like to be that far from the water.”

“Ok.” He sat at the kitchen table and flinched.

“Peter,” Melia began. Hesitating, she pulled his wet shirt over his head and looked at the injuries.
 
The kappa had taken a good chunk of skin off his shoulder. Blood steadily dripped down Peter’s body. Claw marks ran the length of his back. He didn’t object when Melia continued to strip him. Whatever he had been hit with cut his skin. Little lesions bled and a pale bruise was already visible over his spine. His knees were bruised as well; the skin on the right one had broken open in the scuffle.
 
“I think you need to go to the hospital,” she told him. Melia was scared. It was clear Peter was hurt. And she wasn’t a healer.

“I’m alright, Melia,” he said, sounding almost annoying.

“Please,” she begged, realizing that she must be feeling what Peter had felt when he tried to get her to go only a week ago.

He shook his head and pressed a hand over his bleeding shoulder. “Get me a towel?”

Melia nodded. She came back with several towels, a first aid kit and a bottle of pills. “Does it hurt?” she asked as she very lightly pressed a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol on his torn skin.

“Not really,” Peter lied. Silently, Melia continued cleaning his wounds, putting gauze and bandages over them. When she was done, she brushed the hair out of Peter’s eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Peter.”

“It’s ok,” he told her automatically, assuming she was sorry for him being injured. The pain he felt while Melia cleaned the cuts distracted him from thinking about what had just happened.
What the hell is a kappa?
he thought.
Did Melia really know? Was it a weird sea creature? No, they looked too…too human.
He opened his mouth to ask Melia when she held her hand out to him, showcasing two white pills.

“Edward gets headaches. He takes these for the pain.”

“Thanks,” Peter said and took the pills. Melia removed his boxers and gave him a pair of Edward’s pajama pants to put on. Peter stayed put in the kitchen while Melia had a difficult time putting Neosporin on Wolfy’s leg. She wrapped gauze around his leg only to have him rip it off. After fifteen minutes, she gave up. The bite marks weren’t very deep anyway.

“I-I need to talk to you,” Melia said shyly. She refilled Peter’s cup with water. She waited until he drank it. “There are things, Peter, things I should have told you.”

He nodded. She was right. There were things…wait, what things? He shook his head. His thoughts were cloudy. Suddenly, he felt nauseous. When he stood, his vision blacked out. He vaguely remembered Melia catching him, crying and leading him into the living room. Then the black fog took over and he passed out.

“Peter?” Melia’s voice shook. She didn’t understand what was going on. “Peter?” She shook him and he didn’t move. “PETER!” she cried, tears running down her cheeks. Was he dead? Had he lost too much blood? Did the rubbing alcohol poison him? “Peter, please! Wake up!” He groaned. “Peter! Peter! Can you hear me? Wake up!” She waited. Nothing. Frantic, Melia tripped over the end table, knocking it to the ground. The lamp fell, shattering the light bulb. Ignoring the glass that stuck in her palm, Melia numbly got her phone and called Jamie.

No answer.

She couldn’t breathe. She was hyperventilating. She scrambled back to Peter’s side, shaking him and calling his name. She dialed one more number—the only other person who could help her—and cried when he answered.

“Charles!” she screamed.

“Melia, what’s wrong?”

“We got attacked by kappas and I think I killed Peter!”

“What!? Where are you?”

“Home,” she sobbed.

“I’m on my way.” There was a rustling and then the jingling of keys. “Why do you think you killed Peter?”

“He won’t wake up.”

“Ok. Is he breathing?”

“I don’t know,” she barely managed to say in between hysterical sobs.

“Melia, calm down. You can’t help him if you’re a mess.” Charles paused to give Melia a minute to compose herself. “You might have to do CPR, ok? First, check and see if he’s breathing.”

Melia put her hand under Peter’s nose. At first, she felt nothing then—“I feel air! He’s breathing!”

“Ok, check his pulse.”

Melia pressed her fingers to Peter’s chest. “I can’t find it!” She started crying again.

“Calm down, it’s ok,” Charles soothed. “Right under his ear. Put your fingers on his neck and push, but not too hard. Count the beats…now.” After a minute Charles asked, “How many?”

“Forty seven.”

“Ok, that’s a little slow. But Peter’s an athlete, right? It might be normal for him.” Charles let out a breath of relief. “Stay with him and I’ll be there in less than ten minutes.”

“Thank you.” Melia hung up and held Peter’s hand. “I’m so sorry, Peter. I’ll figure everything out, I promise. And I’ll explain everything to you. Someday.” She stroked his hair. Wolfy barked, causing Melia to jump. He was upstairs…oh, right. “The cat,” she said out loud. “Wolfy! Leave the kitty alone!”