A. Colucci - Seeders

“Shouldn’t we look for the diamond?” he asked with little enthusiasm.

“Fuck off,” she yelled back and threw off her jacket. She sat on the sand, pulling off her suede boots and socks and rolling her stretch pants to her knees. She got up and ran into the water and stopped as a wave hit her calves. She squealed and ran back to the shore.

Luke smirked. “Cold, huh?”

“No it’s not.”

He turned his head to a soft breeze. The wind was blowing from the west, mostly blocked by trees, making the beach the warmest place on the island. It was probably close to seventy degrees, which was at least something to smile about. The bright sun hit his face and felt good.

Monica’s hands wrapped around her waist and she pulled off her shirt, revealing a stringy black bra.

Luke froze.

When she pulled down her leggings he spun around, checking for anyone watching.

Monica faced the water in a black bra and panties, and before he could take in the length of her body she ran into the ocean and dove headfirst into a wave. She came up with an enormous gasp, laughing and shouting in French. “ Cette eau est gelée! Je ne sens plus mes doigts de pieds. ”

“What?” he yelled.

“Come in! The water’s warm.”

Luke sat down and took off his socks and sneakers, rolled up his cuffs.

“Hurry up,” she said, jumping on her toes to keep warm.

He walked sluggishly to the shoreline and dipped in his foot. The water was ice cold and he sucked air through his teeth. “Forget it. I’m not going.”

“Fine. You’ll miss all the fun.” She sank to her neck and took off her bra and panties, twirling them in the air like a wet towel. She pressed them into a tight ball and threw a wild pitch.

They landed by Luke’s feet with a splat.

He tried to act cool but adrenaline was surging through his veins at an incredible speed. He was sweating and taking irregular breaths. “Okay… I’m coming.” He went in up to his knees, shaking the jitters from his hands and dodging small waves.

“You have to take off your clothes!”

He stared helplessly.

“Come on,” Monica said, riding up and down on the swells. “Someone has to keep me warm.”

Luke went back to the shore and took off his heavy sweatshirt. He started to loosen his belt, and then turned his back to the sea. He let his pants drop, and headed to the water.

“No, all of it,” she yelled, her teeth chattering.

He worried she might get out of the water. Her lips were turning blue.

“Okay, I’ll be right there.” He turned his back again, pulled down his briefs. He was standing at full attention, so he covered both hands over his groin and started back.

Monica ducked her head underwater and came up, spitting like a fountain. “Come on already. It’s wonderful.”

Luke took a deep breath and ran fast into the water, diving sideways with a giant splash. He swam toward Monica, thrashing his arms and then diving down low, twisting his body toward the surface. His feet hit the rocky bottom and he sprang from the water, threw back his hair and coughed.

“Oh man, that’s cold!” He wiped the salty ocean from his face and looked around.

Monica was gone.

“ Au revoir, mon amour! ” she called, heading quickly ashore.

Luke watched her naked body ascend from the water. His teeth were chattering and his arms were covered in goose bumps but he smiled at her bare behind. Then he realized she was running straight for their clothes. She picked up both piles in a single swoop and waved, speeding toward the woods.

“Hey! Get back here.”

“ Au revoir! ”

Then she disappeared.

Luke was shivering. He didn’t think for a minute she would leave and not come back. But seconds passed, and he couldn’t take the icy water anymore so he rushed to the shore. Dripping and naked, he scanned the beach, but all he saw were a bra and panties at his feet.

“Don’t even think about it,” he whispered.

The wind blew his nude body dry in seconds. He put on his socks and sneakers, but now he looked even more ridiculous. Too angry to care, he stomped off into the woods.

“Monica!” he shouted, and then muttered, “Stupid ass.” The path to the woods was narrow and fraught with angry branches that stuck out like claws. They scratched his body and he kept a protective hand over the sensitive areas. “Monica! This isn’t funny.”

Luke was growing fitfully angry. His teeth clenched from cold and fury. This time Monica had gone too far. He wanted nothing more to do with her. All that mattered now was telling her off like he should have long ago. He thought about losing his temper, maybe even slapping her.

Then he saw his jeans. They were far off the path, several yards into the woods and he had to duck and weave through branches and vines to reach them. They were damp and dirty, but wearable, and he was relieved to put them on.

He looked back at the trail and saw that it narrowed in a tangle of trees. Monica must have stumbled off course and gotten lost. He stopped to listen, trying to make out the sound of running feet or snapping twigs. The woods were silent. For nearly a minute he stood there.

Then someone screamed, a bone-chilling shriek that he knew had to be Monica.

Luke raced toward the sound, flying over fallen trees and rocks. There was another cry of terror and he tore off faster, sliding in wet leaves and coming up without missing a beat. His heart pounded in his ears as the woods grew closer together and blended into a maze of bushes, vines, and tall rocks that joined forces to become almost impenetrable.

Luke was desperate to find her. He ducked under branches that scratched his arms and shoulders. There was a small clearing ahead and he could see Monica backing away with her arms to her chest.

She turned to him with a look of horror, stumbling to the ground as he grabbed her shoulder. She was shaking and half dressed. Her hair was wet and matted, tears and makeup smeared across her face.

“What?” Luke cried, his eyes shifting between the trees, searching for the unspoken monster that had done who knows what to her. He saw nothing.

He shook her and shouted, “Why did you run off the path?”

She could barely get the words out. “I got… lost and… that thing .”

She pointed and Luke turned.

Then he saw it.

A body lay in a pit of leaves, staring at him. The man had no eyes, just sunken black pools of mush in the sockets. A thick red mustache hung between white bone that protruded from his cheeks and his pointy chin. His mouth was a gaping hole.

Luke rose to his feet, leaving Monica reaching for him. He walked closer to the pit where the decomposed corpse had sunk in the mud. As Luke approached, a warm stench hit him hard and he drew back with an arm over his mouth. He took a few more steps and squatted close to the body, while breathing into his hand.

The man wore the remains of a gray jumpsuit, stiff and faded from the elements. He was beginning to collapse at the center. Flies buzzed over the abdomen that had turned into a puddle of dark soup, and they hovered over the rotting face, landing on perches of bone.

“Luke,” Monica’s voice was small and shaky. “Please, let’s go back.”

There was a hole in his forehead, about an inch in diameter. Luke thought for a moment. “It looks as though he’s been shot in the head. I think he was murdered.”

“Oh God.”

He got on his knees and leaned over the body. “There’s something in his hand, or what’s left of it.” He reached down to the nearly skeletonized fingers, clasped around an object the size of a baseball.

“Don’t touch it,” Monica pleaded.

Luke took hold of some fuzzy strands and tugged at the thing until it was free of the bones. It spun around and the winking eye of a baby stared up at him. “It’s a doll head.”