Immediately after the investigation period ended, the six guests were gathered out on the patio.
“We’re going to spend the afternoon at the beach,” Giles announced as if five of the corporate retreat guests hadn’t been brutally murdered the past few days. “Please take a few minutes to go change. Beach towels will be provided. We will see you all down there shortly.”
Once the guests had all changed and met down on the beach, Giles again addressed them as resort staff passed out beach towels.
“The killer is feeling generous and therefore has given us two hours to enjoy this pristine beach and crystal clear water. Snorkeling gear can be found in the basket behind me. However, this is the only time you’ll have to share information before the challenge phase begins, so use this time wisely. But also enjoy yourselves, if you can. It’s a beautiful day, after all, and this might just be the last chance to lounge on a beach or swim in the ocean that some of you will ever have again.”
After his morbid message, he turned and headed back toward the mansion. Other staff came down and began taking drink orders. The guests all laid out their towels on the perfect white sand, some close together, others a bit farther away down the beach.
Gary didn’t lay down his towel at all. He merely sat down in the sand, the towel still clamped under his left arm. He ran his hands through the powdery sand and shook his head. He’d never really been one for the beach. He just didn’t get it. What was so fun about sitting in a bunch of sand all day? It was a complete waste of time.
Todd and Cathy laid out their towels near Whitney’s, hoping to eventually strike up a conversation and share some information.
Cliff was the only one of the six guests who moved toward the snorkeling gear. He set down his towel; strapped on the goggles, snorkel, and life vest; and then waded into the ocean. When he was about thigh deep, he rolled back into the water and put on the flippers.
The water was so warm and clear that the saltiness of it was the only thing reminding him that he was even in water at all. He kicked his feet and looked down at the sandy ocean floor. Little fish darted below him in small schools among colorful and sparse seaweed and other ocean growth. When the water was about seven feet deep, he pulled up and looked straight ahead. The clear water stretched on, turning into a deeper blue farther in the distance. He saw that in twenty yards the sandy bottom fell away at a massive drop-off.
Suddenly he knew he was going to just swim away.
It sounded crazy, but if he just kept swimming straight on out into the ocean, he’d hit another island eventually. He knew the area was littered with small islands. It was entirely possibly that he could make it to one and get away from this. He could swim to his salvation.
He looked back at the shore. The guests were scattered across the beach, most just lounging on their beach towels. He saw one server walking down the path with a tray of drinks. Nobody would even realize what he was doing until it was too late.
Cliff pushed his head under the water again and kicked forward toward the drop-off. When he was directly above it, the darker shades of blue around him suddenly made him nervous. He looked around again and thought he saw something moving in the water far ahead of him.
Just the vast ocean playing tricks on his eyes.
Or was it?
He started kicking forward again and then stopped. There it was again. Except it came closer and into view maybe two hundred feet ahead, gliding easily through the tropical waters.
It was a shark.
At maybe six feet long, he knew that it was not very large, relatively. He knew that many breeds of shark could reach ten or twelve feet or more. He also knew that it was rare for sharks to attack people, especially in Caribbean waters. If that wasn’t true then there’d be dozens of attacks every month down here with all the tourism, all the snorkeling and swimming that occurred.
The shark swam in circles ahead of him, not appearing particularly interested in him, if it even knew he was there at all. It had a sleek body and sharp nose. Its back fin had a black tip. So it was just a small shark unlikely to attack him. He told himself that again and again as he debated whether to keep going.
But it was different being in the water here and now with the shark and no protective glass separating them like at an aquarium. It was easy to call a six-foot shark small and relatively harmless at home on your couch watching the Discovery Channel or with his kids at the local aquarium. But it suddenly didn’t feel so easy anymore.
Ultimately, Cliff turned around and swam toward the beach. He glanced back several times, but the shark didn’t follow him. Maybe he could have escaped, maybe not. But he liked his chances playing the game with his mind and wit, over swimming off into an unknown ocean full of sharks and vast emptiness and who knew what else.
By the time he got back to the beach, he didn’t have a whole lot of time left. He wasn’t sure who had shared information with whom. But that didn’t matter. All he knew was that he needed to know more than he currently did. Thus, right away when his feet hit dry sand, he dropped his flippers and snorkel gear, put on his best smile, and approached the towels that Todd and Cathy were stretched out on, lying in the sun.