When he opened his eyes, he was uncertain of where he was, and it took him a moment to organise his thoughts. He jumped out of his seat, panicked at the thought of missing them and ran out the door. He sprinted bare foot across the sharp sand, headed straight for the water’s edge. He searched the waves in every direction as he ran, desperate and hopeful.
He leapt into ankle deep water, soaking himself in the process. When no heads presented themselves, he removed his shorts and ran farther out before diving in and swimming.
He may have missed them, but if he was quick enough, maybe, just maybe he’d still find them before they left the bay.
For ten minutes he searched, before finally heading back to the shore.
On his approach, something grabbed at his conscience; he dipped his head and looked along the underside of his body. Through the murky water he could make out two lines of triangular white teeth, they belonged to a jaw, opened wide. The teeth of a great white shark he had no doubt. He kicked faster with both feet, arms flailed in his desperate plea to flee. In knee deep water, he rose. Running proved difficult as he struggled to gain any distance from the predator. The shark was right behind. Its nose nudged the back of his lower leg. He fell. Turning he readied to fend in whatever way he could. The shark came on, wide jawed ready to take its fatal bite. As teeth pierced his skin, he jumped in his chair.