Free Dark Waters by Alex Prentiss Page A

at night is for privacy.”
    “I understand. Me, too.”
    They ran three blocks without speaking, their feet making smack-slip noises on the concrete. A carful of teens passed and hollered something, but it was drowned out by their thumping bass. When Ace and Rachel reached Williamson Street, where Father Thyme’s coffee shop and the Sparkler pizza place were still crowded, Rachel stopped, put her foot on a fire hydrant, and stretched her calf muscles. Ace did the same, and she caught him surreptitiously trying to peer down the neckline of her T-shirt.
    She laughed. From most men it would be either threatening or insulting, but it endeared this boy to her even more. “Ace, do you really think my boobs are that different from any other woman’s?”
    He looked down. “Well, they’re all beautiful in their own way.”
    She mussed his hair like a child’s. “Ace, really. I’m too old for you. You should have a girlfriend your own age.”
    He still didn’t meet her eyes. “I did, sort of. We just broke up. She just seemed so … immature sometimes.”
    “She’ll grow up. And so will you.” She nodded toward the street that led eventually back to the lake. “This is where we split up, okay? I’ll see you around.” She crossed the street before he could say anything else.
    Still smiling at the smitten boy’s sincerity, she passed the looming trees of big Martyn Park, where dozens of people lounged in the shade or tanned beneath the sun during the day, and continued around the curve to her precious refuge, Hudson Park—barely larger than the low effigy mound it existed to protect. Soon she would be naked, caught in the carnal embrace of her waterborne lovers. She began to tingle with anticipation.
    But suddenly she froze. In the night’s silence, the squeak of her sneakers against the pavement as she stopped might as well have been a scream.
    A tall silhouette stood at the top of the hill— her hill—beside the effigy mound. He gazed down at the hidden spot where she undressed and entered the water. And the stranger did not move or look back, even though he must’ve heard her approach.
    The broad shoulders and narrow hips were thoroughly masculine. Her first hopeful thought was Ethan! If it was him waiting for her, knowing she would come to this park, she would throw herself in his arms and make love to him right there. And never let him go.
    But the instant she had the thought, she knew it was wrong. The silhouette did look familiar, but it was definitely not Ethan Walker. It was also too broad and muscular for Ace. Who was it, then?
    Except for breathing, she did not move. And for a long time, neither did the stranger. Then he crouched and did something with his hands near the effigy mound’s head. She drew breath to shout, but sweat trickled into her eyes. In the brief moment as she paused to wipe it away, he vanished into the shadows.
    She walked slowly forward, alert for any movement. She crossed the damp grass and reached the spot by the effigy mound, every muscle tense. In the faint illumination from the streetlights, she saw a dozen small rocks arranged in a circle a foot in diameter. She picked up one and held it toward the pinkish lights. It was a normal rock—the smooth kind found in any garden, or pulled from any stream or lake—but painted on it was a strange symbol.
    She carried it up the hill to see it better. It resembled the Christian ichthus symbol but instead of graceful curves it had sharp edges and points. When she touched it with her finger, she saw that it was drawn on with mud. Her touch smeared one line.
    She was about to toss it aside but at the last moment felt a powerful compulsion to return it to the ring on the ground. After she did so, she took several deep breaths and looked out at the water, which was normally inviting and irresistible. Now, though, it seemed subtly repellent. Encountering the stranger here had somehow broken the mood.
    She could still swim, she knew.