The Girl on the Beach

“You know, Les, sometimes you can be an absolute—”

Elle stopped with a start, straining to listen. Leslie should have made his presence known by now. Something felt off. Elle’s skin prickled. She felt frightened.

“Les?” she said, louder now, her voice shaking. “You’re frightening me.”

When there was still no reply, Elle backed slowly away from the foreboding blackness. Then she heard the thud of heavy footfalls approaching from the gloom.

“Les couldn’t make it,” a deep chilling voice hissed from the shadows.

Elle’s heart pounded when she recognized the angry voice. She shrieked, turned, and ran out the open front of the cabana, away from the voice. Outside it was pitch black. Clouds had extinguished the pale light of the moon. With abandon, Elle ran down the gravel path. She had intended to run toward the house, but in her panic, had turned the wrong way. She heard footsteps crunching on the gravel, following her. Elle’s foot caught an exposed banyan tree root when she veered off the path, tripping her. She fell headlong.