Promptings from Valhalla - 10. Swimming toward Infinity

Swimming toward Infinity

Frank emerged tentatively from the tollbooth, then dove back in, narrowly avoiding hitting his head in an effort to hide from the large face that had suddenly appeared in his lane. His eyes bulged and mouth gaped open as the giant blue eyes met his own.

“Shit! They saw me!” The tollbooth was no longer a safe refuge, so he darted out the back door, swimming frantically toward the kelp field. He hid in the large, finger-like leaves, swaying in time with their movement, sides heaving with stress and exertion.

Frank stared at the tollbooth, alert for any signs of pursuit. A shadow fell over the blue structure, obscuring the sign announcing the entrance to the Oceanic Highway. Frank’s heartrate increased as the darkness moved closer to the kelp field, and he readied himself for flight, wiggling his butt and flippers to keep himself floating above the light tan sand.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Frank shot upward, a trail of bubbles in his wake. “George! You scared the crap out of me! We need to hide! They’ve found us!”

“Will you relax? There’s nothing here that’s going to get you.”

Frank shook his head. “Can’t you see it?” He gestured toward the tollbooth. “Look at that shadow! They’re going to get us!”

The water temperature felt like it dropped ten degrees as the shadow loomed directly over both Frank and George. “It’s here! Hide!” Frank shot out of the kelp field and swam to the abandoned car directly behind him. He pounded on the closed window frantically, in his panicked state not realizing there was no way to hide in the rusty vehicle. It finally dawned on him that he needed a different refuge, and he swam on.

The shadow followed him, no matter how fast he swam. Frank was desperate at this point. He didn’t know how they found him, but the last thing he wanted was to be caught again. He looked behind him, then slammed into a dead end. Momentarily stunned, he paused before resuming his flight in a different direction. He stopped dead when he reached the generator, a different sort of panic flooding through him.

The generator was to be avoided at all costs. It was drummed into him when he started working for Oceanic. Stay away from the large, bubbling machine. The intake produced a wake similar to a riptide. It was very difficult to escape its pull. Those caught in it never returned.

Frank was suddenly pulled backward and fishtailed sideways to escape the sudden void of water. “Oh my God! They have nets!” There was no reply. He wondered if George had been caught. The new regime was brutal; employees of Oceanic were essentially slaves, added and removed at the whim of the shadows.

Frank resumed his frenzied swim, taking care to avoid crashing into the barriers preventing his escape. The net loomed closer at every turn as he exhausted himself in his bid to prevent capture. It was only a matter of time before he was caught in its tangled embrace, and he lay on his side, resigned to his fate. He gulped for air, desperate to fill his straining lungs, biology taking over despite his acquiescence. It wasn’t enough; however, and he lapsed into unconsciousness.

Frank stared at his new surroundings. He was still underwater, in a container filled with clear, fresh liquid. The aching in his lungs eased as he inhaled fresh oxygen. The tollbooth was gone, as was the kelp field and car. It was eerily beautiful, despite the stark nature of his new location.

“Am I in heaven?” he muttered. He turned when laughter erupted right next to him.

“Man, you really are neurotic, aren’t you?”

“George? I thought you were a goner!”

George rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“Where are we?”

“I don’t know, but they put us in here every week when they clean the tank.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“The generator isn’t enough to keep our environment clean. So once a week, they scoop us out and clean everything. Believe me, you’ll be much happier when they put us back.”

“Back?”

“Back in the tank. Good lord, why do we have to go through this every week with you?”

Frank stared at George. “So they’re not trying to kill us?”

George sighed, producing a line of bubbles that rose to the surface of the plastic container. “No, they’re helping us.”

“Oh. Well, OK then.”

“You’re going to do the same damn thing next week, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, probably. I really hate those nets.”

George shook his head and swam to the other side of the small enclosure. Frank would never learn.

This was fun!  I hope you liked my take on the prompt.    Thanks for reading!