The Beachcomber

"The ocean!" Chloe whined. She rolled her eyes so hard it rolled her whole head. "I hate the ocean."

"Well, good thing the beach house is on the beach, dipshit," mocked Riley. "If you don't want to go in the water, you can just stay out of it." Chloe playfully punched him in the shoulder.

"You like tanning, don't you?" Amanda offered. She wasn't too keen on the ocean herself, but she was willing to give a beach vacation a chance.

Chloe scoffed. "Yeah, in a bed, in a salon, away from the prying eyes of sweaty pervs."

"Private property," Darryl chimed in. "Won't be no one there to see your flabby ass but us."

"Hey!" Jimmy called from the couch, trying his best to sound offended. "Don't be looking at my girl's flabby ass. That's for me." Chloe stuck her tongue out in his direction.

"How do you keep a beach private?" Amanda asked. "Like, how do you enforce that?"

"The privacy's just kind of built in." Darryl pulled it up on Google Maps. "About five miles of beach in either direction before you hit the nearest resorts, and the resorts have their own property lines enforced."

Riley squinted at the screen in Darryl's hand. "What's all that, a forest? Is there even a road?"

Darryl zoomed in until a road appeared. "Just the one."

"Hey," Jimmy tuned back into the conversation. "Do forests even, like, live near oceans?"

The others looked at him with expressions ranging from incredulous to concerned. Amanda snorted softly as she stifled a laugh. She couldn't decide which was dumber: Himbo Jimbo's weird-ass question, or the fact that nobody seemed to have an answer.

---

One road-trip later, they arrived. Amanda's idea of a beach house was a quaint, single-story, tropical-looking place decorated with palm fronds and surfboards. She was surprised to see what she might have considered a beach mansion. A long, white staircase dusted with sand led up to a clean, sea-green, two-story building on stilts. There was a cheerful life-preserver affixed to the front door like a wreath. The beach house's exterior was full of windows. Amanda would have been concerned for their privacy if they were in a more populated area.

That feeling was reinforced as they stepped into an open-concept space that was kitchen, dining room, and family room with no walls between. On the one hand, "all windows, no walls" sounded like a luxurious idea. It was spacious, moving from one room to another felt effortless, and you only had to turn your head if you wanted to trade an ocean view for the forest. On the other hand...

"Where's the bathroom?" Riley sounded concerned. He jogged a quick lap around the place to see if it was hiding somewhere.

"Upstairs, probably." Darryl shrugged.

Riley bounded up the stairs as the others wandered around trying to get comfortable. "Yep, found it!" he called.

"What kind of people don't put a bathroom on the first floor?" Jimmy mused.

Amanda attempted an answer. "Apparently, people like Darryl's... whose place is this again?"

He did some math in the air. "My cousin's step-dad's ex's husband."

Amanda snorted and Jimmy tilted his head like a puppy.

"Wait, so this isn't a vacation rental?" asked Chloe. "I thought this was, like, a Vrbo listing or something, you know, um..."

"Reputable?" Riley offered upon his return.

Darryl raised an eyebrow. "You saying my family ain't reputable?" He paused. "Don't answer that. Anyway, what, did you think I was paying some douchebag landlord for the privilege of using his fourth house for a week? I don't remember y'all putting up any money."

"Hey," Riley said, indignant, "I sprung for the provisions. Anyway, y'all should go check out the upstairs.

The upstairs was more traditional; a hallway with doors leading to four bedrooms and the bathroom. The bedrooms were nice. They had giant windows in each, but at least there were curtains. And walls. And doors. There was indeed a bathroom, too. It was huge and luxurious. There was a whirlpool bath with room for at least four people facing a huge TV on the wall. Rather than windows, the exterior wall facing the ocean was almost entirely frosted glass, brightening the room.

Satisfied with their tour, they split up to claim their bedrooms.

The rest of the day was for letting off steam and indulging. There was exactly one pizza place that would make the drive out, if they promised to tip generously. They stocked up on enough pizza to last all night and through breakfast, then broke out the booze.

Darryl had given them a heads-up that the Internet access was spotty, so they had done their best to pack offline activities. They hooked up a Nintendo Switch and spent time with the staples of party gaming; a round of Mario Party, then an hour or so in Mario Kart before pivoting to Super Smash Bros. Later in the evening, it was Jimmy and Darryl 1-v-1ing in Smash with Chloe backseat gaming between shots.

Riley and Amanda had retreated to the dining room to share some weed and knock out one of the pizzas. Some TV show that Riley had downloaded in advance was playing on his phone, but Amanda wasn't familiar with it. Neither of them were watching it, anyway. Somewhere in the meandering conversation, Amanda started thinking too hard about the beach house.

"It's just weird, though, right?" she said.

"I dunno," Riley responded, "Like, I guess it is, but rich-people stuff is usually pretty weird."

"Is it?"

"Probably. We wouldn't know, right? We're broke nobodies from broke families." Riley raised his nearly-empty beer in a toast that no one shared.

"Not Darryl, though."

"Fuck Darryl." Amanda interrupted to shush him. Riley lowered his voice. "He's in the same boat. No 'cousin's uncle's husband's ex' or whatever counts as family."

Amanda snorted a little without meaning too. She was painfully aware of her anxious laugh-at-everything habit. "Don't be like that." Amanda was about to make some kind of point about "found family," but the thought got away from her. She picked back up on the other side of the mental haze. "But that's why we're out here, right? We're like a little family, at least a temporary one. Like, yeah, maybe we'll all drift apart someday but for right now, you all are my life-raft."

Riley thought about it for a moment while he took another hit. He only managed a, "huh?"

Amanda dissolved into giggles. She recovered, saying, "I just don't have a lot going on in life. I hang onto you guys to stay afloat, like, emotionally. Get it?"

Riley might have gotten it, somewhere in the back of his mind, but he wasn't thinking with that part of his body. He quickly glanced toward the living room to make sure no one was watching. Mega Man and Sonic the Hedgehog were trading blows on the TV, and Chloe was very busy telling Jimmy what he was doing wrong. Riley leaned in.

"You can hang on to me, like, physically, if you want."

She exhaled into a smile, with no anxious laughter to follow. This had been a long time coming. They snuck off to Riley's room without anyone noticing.

---

Amanda was the first one to wake in the morning, and she didn't feel as groggy as expected. She did have a slight headache and heartburn. Riley was still snoring gently, folded up in whatever weird position he fell into after she rolled out of his arms mid-sleep. She quietly left his room and headed to her own to pull out some clothes and freshen up. She tried to keep her footfalls soft while she yawned and swayed down the hall full of closed doors.

Her door was ajar. That was strange. Maybe she hadn't closed it properly after dumping her stuff on the bed. She eased the door open and had to blink a few times to make sure her eyes were telling her the truth. Her bags should have been on the bed, but they were sitting on the floor. One suitcase was open and clothes had been rummaged through. The bed had obviously been slept in. The blankets, sheets and pillows were all over as if someone had rolled around in them.

Amanda tried to think back through the day. She had gotten pretty wasted, but she wasn't missing any time. Maybe, she thought, someone else had drunkenly stumbled into this room by mistake and didn't realize it until they noticed her stuff wasn't their stuff. That sounded reasonable, considering the sheer amount of substance use and general silliness of her friends.

For the moment, she decided to keep it to herself. She drew back the curtain to open up the room, trying to clear the strangeness of the moment. The ocean was calm and blue, and the sand was immaculate.

Eventually, everyone dragged themselves out of bed and downstairs, various degrees of hungover. Once they were fed and hydrated, they readied themselves for their first real Beach Day of the week.

When Riley returned to the kitchen to wash the dishes, there was an extra plate and set of silverware in the sink. He almost didn't notice, but in the back of his mind he counted the plates as he stacked them in the dishwasher. There shouldn't have been six. Riley was sure they had each used one plate, and that there were five plates in the sink when he left. He didn't think too hard about it. It was weird, but far from impossible. Maybe someone came back for second-breakfast while he was in the shower.

Darryl lost his keys for a while. At first he panicked about it; the keys should have been on his bedside table. That's where he always drops his keys at night, no matter where he's staying. A quick search of the house led him to a key-hook by the front door. There they were. He would never have put them there himself, but there were other explanations. He had gotten pretty drunk the night before. Maybe he dropped the keys somewhere, someone found them, and they hung them in the logical place to keep keys.

The housemates were treated to a screaming match as they waited for Chloe and Jimmy. From the sound of it, Chloe couldn't find some of her jewelry, and it clearly had to be Jimmy's fault. Nobody else had been near her things. Shouting, stomping, and slamming doors above made their way downstairs echoed throughout the largely empty first floor. Amanda felt some secondhand embarrassment. She didn't own any jewelry herself that would be worth screaming about. She began to wonder if she should have taken inventory of her things when she saw the state of her room that morning.

The group eventually made it outside and gradually relaxed into their favorite beach activities. There was a lot of splashing and not a lot of actual swimming. Chloe spent most of the day sunbathing, and Amanda decided to give it a try herself. She doubted she could really tan, but the warmth of the sun felt wonderful. Later in the day, Riley pulled out a grill and started up burgers and hot dogs several yards downwind of the house.

Around that time, Darryl spoke up. "Whoever buried Jimmy in the sand should probably go dig him out. The tide is coming in." Nobody moved.

"Or, don't," said Chloe with some snark. "Maybe seawater will shock some sense into him." She watched a few waves roll in and decided that if no one else would, she'd have to do it. Chloe stomped across the sand to Jimmy. "Hey, asshole!" she shouted as she aimed a kick at his head.

The sole of her sandal struck Jimmy's head and met less resistance than it should have. The head became dislodged from the sand and rolled lazily, leaving a wet streak of blood to blend with the rising tide.

Chloe screamed and scrambled back toward the beach house as the others ran to meet her. "What the fuck? What the FUCK?"

Amanda choked out the beginning of an anxious laugh before she could quash it. "That's not real, right?" She looked to Riley for reassurance.

"Sure," he replied. "We're being punked. Right, Darryl?" Everyone turned to Darryl. "You're pranking us."

"No the fuck I'm not!" Darryl shrieked, somewhere between scared and offended. He steeled himself and marched over to the head. He picked it up by the hair to examine it, but immediately dropped it and ran back to the group.

"Nope, nope, that's real. Oh, fuck." Darryl looked around for ideas. "The car, get to the car!"

The piled into Darryl's car and started back onto the forest road. They didn't get very far. Several loud pops and some intense swerving made it clear the tires were toast. Whoever was targeting them, they had spike strips ready to go.

"What do we do?" Chloe shrieked.

Darryl motioned for everyone to get out of the car. "Riley, you take the girls back to the beach house. I'm gonna run to the main road and flag down help."

Chloe was still panicking. "Back to the house? How do we know it's safe."

Amanda shushed her. "Quiet. They might hear you."

"They who?! Who are they?" Chloe demanded, as if anyone had an answer.

Riley grabbed both girls' arms and starting running back to the beach. "Shut up. Just move!"

They lost a few sandals, but the three made it back indoors. Riley moved a living room chair in front of the door to barricade it.

"What do we do?" Amanda blurted between breaths as she recovered from the sprint.

Riley looked around the room. "We gotta get away from these fucking windows." He moved toward the stairs.

Chloe grabbed him to stop him. "Are you fucking stupid? If we go upstairs, there's nowhere to run."

"Guys!" Amanda pointed to the window facing the forest.

Darryl stumbled awkwardly toward them from between the trees. His expression was blank and he seemed to be looking at nothing. The three inside the house cautiously inched closer to the window. The more Amanda looked, the less it seemed like Darryl was the one moving his own body. He stopped, making no movement with his face, and giving no sign of life. Darryl fell forward, hard.

Behind him stood a stocky man who looked like a tourist. He wore a gaudy red Hawaiian shirt which was open at the front. The straps of a backpack were visible. His pasty white torso ended in a pair of loose blue beach shorts. He wore both a visor and clip-on sunglasses, but for extra protection, his face was smeared with thick, white sunscreen. His appearance was so absurd, Amanda laughed. The man held a metal detector in one hand. Evidently, he had used it to prop Darryl up and to push him over when the moment came.

The man flipped up his shades and waved to them with a grin. "Well, hi there, neighbors!" He shouted in order to be heard through the glass. "Don'tcha mind me. You've just stumbled onto my hunting grounds. ... Ope, I mean my treasure hunting grounds. There aren't no deer around here or nothing." He gave a hearty laugh. "I'll just make my way 'round to the front, and we can get acquainted."

Chloe bolted for the door. She climbed over the chair, effortlessly swung the door open and clambered outside.

Riley's jaw dropped. "The door... Why... What kind of front door swings outward? Who does that?"

Amanda let out an exasperated sigh and led Riley to the door.

They burst onto the porch and looked for Chloe. The strange man had her by the hair and was dragging her in the direction of the still-flaming grill. She screamed desperately as her face was forced into the cooking surface.

"Hey, now," said the man, "How's that for tan lines?" He chuckled. When Chloe stopped moving, he let her fall and turned his attention to the remaining two.

Riley ripped the life-preserver from the door and moved Amanda in the direction of the stairs, saying, "Go, go, just go!"

"Where?!"

"The water!"

"What?" They ran toward the ocean, not daring to look behind them. "Are you nuts?"

"Where else are we gonna go?"

They ran into the ocean with the life-preserver and propelled themselves as far and fast as they could. Amanda wasn't a particularly strong swimmer, but Riley more than made up for it.

"Sorry, folks!" called the man. "Can't have anyone spreading the word about my hunting grounds. It's my livelihood, after all!"

"Just hang on, Amanda." Riley repeated himself again and again to reassure them both. "Just hang onto me. We're gonna be okay. Hang on."

Amanda closed her eyes and listened to Riley's mantra as they drifted away. Then, the voice stopped. She opened her eyes and met his, wide and fearful.

"Riley?"

He let go of the life-preserver and slid beneath the surface. Amanda saw a projectile lodged in his back.

She screamed his name, but there was nothing she could do. Amanda watched helplessly as the man reeled Riley's body back to shore. Time stood still as she saw him drag Riley onto the sand. She had nothing more to say.

The man laughed to himself and called out to her. "I'll be here when you wash ashore! Don't worry! I'll wait! I've got time!"

The beachcomber powered on his metal detector and began sweeping the shore. He occasionally shouted more niceties that Amanda couldn't make out.

Her ears were filled with the sounds of the ocean. Waves. Wind. Gulls. Any sunscreen she had applied hours ago had worn off or washed away. She could feel the tingle of the UV rays licking her skin. Her throat was sore. Amanda could feel her arms becoming fatigued.

This confirmed it. Amanda hated the ocean.