Holbox
The fever had gotten worse. His pores were soaking out, profusely. His body was heating up, hastily burning up his cells, and he was shaking, shivering in cold sweat. He needed to wake up, to cool off before this heat liquefied his brain. Against the force of nature, his eyes opened wide and he took a deep breath, coughing saltwater out of his lungs, pulling himself out of the dive. A sharp pain in his chest had woken him up from his warm reverie. More pain came from the pricking of his nerves, near his right wrist. He felt groggy, puzzled, thirsty, and unsure of how long he was under. He looked around to register his surroundings. There was no one around. The beach was deserted. It felt deserted too, as the last rays of the sunset were scorching, melting his layered cells. The high tide gently approached him, and the cold water reached down his spine in a chill that traversed his whole body, cooling down his flaming extremities. He looked at the auburn sky, open horizon of the island, and as the calm breeze of the evening hit his boiling physique, he felt better, wide awake. Then the jabbing pain in his chest pulled him away from the sand, and a sudden force compelled him to dive right into the water.
