Free Night Beach by Kirsty Eagar Page A

spotlit.
    He’s
crouched,
body
curved
to
the
swirl
of
the
wave,
back
arm
skimming
the
face,
front
    arm
leading
the
way.
The
image
isn’t
perfectly
clean,
it’s
blurred
slightly,
but
that
adds
    to
the
feeling
of
movement.
Kane’s
charging,
lips
drawn
back
to
show
his
teeth,
eyes
    gleaming
in
the
glow
of
the
light.
He
looks
inhuman.

    ‘Like
it?’
    I
realise
Kane’s
watching
me
for
a
reaction
and
my
face
burns.
I
nod.

    He
looks
back
at
the
screen,
legs
jiggling
under
the
table.

    ‘Yeah,’
he
says,
sounding
satisfied.

    I
clear
my
throat.
‘It’s
like
one
of
those
night
hunting
photos.
Like
you’re
a
wave
beast.’

    He
laughs,
and
then
flattens
it
into
a
cough,
as
though
he
doesn’t
want
to
seem
too
    carried
away.
‘That’s
a
good
one.
Shooting
surf
beasties.’

    ‘It’s
from
the
trip,
yeah?’

    ‘Yeah.
Marco
took
a
whole
bunch
of
these.’
    ‘Was
he
the
photographer
who
went
with
you?’

    ‘Photographer,
film-‐maker.
.
.
he’s
a
cool
guy.’

    ‘Film-‐maker?’

    Kane
nods.
He’s
trying
not
to
look
pleased,
but
it’s
breaking
through
anyway.
    ‘So
the
trip
could
be
in
a
surf
film?’

    He
nods
again,
letting
his
grin
out
into
the
open.

    ‘That’s
awesome,
Kane.
You
totally
deserve
it.’
Something
in
my
voice
catches
his
    attention
and
he
looks
at
me,
surprised.

    I
don’t
even
care,
because
I
really
meant
it.

    A
film
would
really
up
Kane’s
profile.
I’ve
been
web-‐stalking
him
since
Christmas,
and
    the
only
time
his
name
is
ever
mentioned
on
surfing
sites
is
in
reference
to
Toby
A.

    They
used
to
be
good
mates,
but
then
they
had
a
big
punch-‐up
in
the
middle
of
a
surf
    comp.
It
created
a
lot
of
buzz.
In
the
midst
of
all
the
fallout,
Kane
moved
down
here.

    I
never
could
understand
why
Toby
A
went
on
the
trip
with
him.
Maybe
neither
one
of
    them
wanted
to
turn
down
the
opportunity
to
be
in
a
film.
    ‘There’d
have
to
be
a
lot
of
interest,’
I
say
carefully.

    Kane’s
face
clouds.
‘Doesn’t
mean
squat
if
we
can’t
get
distribution.
It
needs
serious
    backing.
I
talked
to
Dark
about
putting
up
some
cash
behind
it,
but
–’
He
breaks
off
to
    sniff.
‘Might
be
interested
now
but.
Surfing
in
the
dark
for
Dark.
Beats
their
shit-‐stupid
    idea
for
an
ad
campaign
–
me
surfing
with
sunglasses
on.’

    That
gets
a
giggle
out
of
me.
It
is
a
stupid
idea.

    He
lifts
his
eyebrows
at
me
and
I
flush.
A
hint
of
a
smile
plays
around
his
mouth.
    ‘Did
you
get
film
of
this,
too?’
I
ask,
just
to
say
something.
    I
nod
at
the
screen.

    ‘Yeah.
A
bit.
The
photos
are
better.’

    ‘How
did
he
light
it?’

    ‘There
was
a
full
moon
out
and
he
rigged
up
this
contraption
with
a
diving
torch.’
Kane
    barks
a
laugh.
‘Taped
it
to
his
head.
He’s
game
–
I
went
close
to
hitting
him
on
a
few.
He
    ended
the
night
getting
sucked
over
the
falls
with
all
his
gear.
    It
was
pretty
crazy.’

    He
wipes
a
hand
over
his
mouth,
legs
still
jiggling
madly,
then
clicks
forward
to
the
next
    image.
Another
surfer
in
a
barrel
at
night,
although
this
time
not
as
deep,
more
upright,
    one
hand
trailing
across
the
face
of
the
wave.
It’s
not
Kane
but
someone
with
a
leaner
    build,
longish
dark
hair
and
a
rough
beard
covering
his
face
and
neck.
His
eyes
gleam
    red
in
the
light.
    ‘Is
that
Toby
A?’
The
words
are
out
before
I
think
about
it.

    Kane
frowns
and
his
legs
stop
moving.
‘No,’
he
says
eventually
in
this
blank
voice.
‘No,
    Toby
didn’t
make
that