Atlas' anxiety has been on an all time high since his run in with the girl yesterday morning. She had been so persistent that for the rest of the day he found himself constantly looking over his shoulder making sure she nor any other human was going to surprise him. He had not expected to ever see her again. No, he hoped he'd never see her again. Of all humans, she was the last he wanted back here. Yet despite all this, there was a tiny part of him that was glad she did...and that surprised him.

Being at work helped. It allowed him to tune out everything around him, forget about her and focus on the task at hand. It is working so well, in fact, that he didn't even realize his boss, Johnny, had stepped onto the boat until he feels his hand lay on his shoulder. Atlas jumps, quickly maneuvering out from under the touch.

"I just wanted to say thank you, again, for helping us. This business would've tanked if you hadn't stepped in," he says to him, completely oblivious to the fact that he had just startled Atlas to away from his touch.

"No problem," Atlas replies, collecting himself before continuing to scrub the boat. Johnny's touch had reignited some of his anxiety, boosting his senses. Every tiny movement the boat made felt like waves as the man situates himself on one of the seats nearest him.

Peaking over at Johnny, Atlas sees his deep blue eyes now fixed distantly out over the calm, twinkling water.

He looks tired, like he hadn't had a good nights rest in a while. His aging face is worn out and somber. He is wearing the same clothes he had on since Atlas began working for him: a faded red t-shirt with a single pocket on the chest over his heart and khaki cargo shorts. His receding, obsidian black hair peppered in grey is heavy in his body's natural oils. Johnny's appearance gave Atlas the impression that the man cared very little for his well being, which was unlike him.

"Not a day goes by that I don't look out over these waters and think of him," Johnny finally speaks after a time, voice just as distant as his gaze.

He was talking about his son, Ryan, who had abandoned the community just last week. It was one of the reasons Atlas began working for Johnny. Ryan was the third one in the last two months to up and leave, and it made Atlas curious to find out if Ryan or the others had discovered what they boldly left for. So he stayed close to Johnny, hoping one day he'd get word from Ryan about the possibility their kind could finally return to the place they once considered home.

Johnny shifts in his seat. "Sometimes I just want to say to hell with it all and do the same."

It has been centuries since their ancestors bound themselves to this island, hiding from humans. Many are starting to believe that humanity has long forgotten about them, much like humanity has long forgotten about the true reason the first people to come to this island disappeared.

"Why don't you?" Atlas asks.

Johnny finally tears his gaze from the water and fixes it on Atlas. "The son of our leader should know that answer better than anyone," he says as he brings a hand and rubs at his pale, flaking dry skin. Those flakes varied greatly in size as they fell from him, leaving behind an even paler, chalky layer of skin. It made Atlas' stomach clench.

Yes, Atlas did know. Their grim history was drilled into him all throughout his childhood. But it is becoming painfully obvious to him that their camouflage had an expiration date. It seemed to him that his people were not supposed to be on land for as long as they have. Even the amount of time spent out of the water has been greatly reduced since they first emerged.

During the first several decades, his people could go years in between what they now call Dives. Nowadays, they go during every super moon when the moon is at its closest creating slightly higher tides than normal. But even that is beginning to wear on his people, more so with the older generations than the younger generations. Atlas hated to think about what will happen to them when their time is up. Will they have no choice but to return? Or will they cease to exist altogether?

"I understand it perfectly," Atlas finally replies. He flops his towel onto the rim of the boat and joins Johnny. "But do you honestly think we can continue like this forever? I mean, look at yourself and look at what it is doing to our people. We're breaking apart."

"Tell me son," Johnny begins. "Are you willing to risk every soul in this community for the slim chance the waters are safe again?" Atlas could not read the tone in his words. Was this question to warn him to think clearer or was he just testing his seriousness? 

Atlas desired the chance to return. More than he desired anything in his existence. The thought of possibly disappearing without at least knowing what it felt like to be free from the island's grasp was enough for him to figure a way to make it a reality. And he was willing to do anything, even if that meant going against his own family and the values of the community. 

"I am." There was no doubt in his voice and Johnny said no more on the topic.  Silence has now befallen them as they sit, staring out over the water. The one thing that set him apart from the others who chose to leave on their own was that he was determined to bring the whole community with him.

It was the next group gathering for the sunset tour that finally broke their silence. Atlas stands first, grabbing his towel and quickly finishes up his work. Johnny always did the final tour, which allowed Atlas to get home to help his mother with things at the inn. Johnny gently presses into Atlas' shoulder with his hand before he exits the boat and greets his guests.

Atlas is careful bypassing those lined up to enter the boat, keeping his eyes on the dock. In a split second glance up, he spots Johnny's wife, Sherry, fighting pleasantries with each person she makes a transaction with. She was not much better in the terms of her outward appearance than Johnny was, but she at least covered herself with long beach overgarments and sun hats.

"See you tomorrow," he says just audible enough for her to hear as he passes. They exchange looks only briefly and with a nod from her he continues on his way home.

The boardwalk he takes home daily was just empty enough that he didn't feel the need to continue staring down. His eyes lift and he uses this chance to observe his surroundings with his peripheral vision. A few women dressed like they were ready for a good time sat at an outside table laughing and completely enthralled in their conversation to notice him passing. A man off to his left was busily messing with the ropes of his sail boat while his dog lay at his feet, panting from the heat of the day.

Atlas flickers his eyes to the dog and it perks its ears in response to the attention. He smirks at the animal who tilts its head to the side before darting to him. The man whirls around when he hears his dog take off.

"Lady!" He calls after her. "Lady no, get back here!" But Lady is at Atlas now, still staring into his gaze like a love struck puppy.

He bends down and gently roughs her around the neck with his fingers. "Good girl," he says quietly. Her tail wags and she inches closer to him.

"I'm sorry," the man says when he finally catches up to her. "She doesn't normally run off like that. I'm actually surprised she came to you at all. She tends to shy from other people."

Atlas stands, ignoring the man. Patting Lady once more on the head, he lets go of her attention and turns to leave. He doesn't make it two steps before he hears the dog whine behind him, in front of him not a moment later.

"Lady, leave the young man be," the man says. "Come on let's go." The dog doesn't move, she sits upright refusing to take her attention from Atlas. "Come on."

Finally, Atlas looks down and meets with her golden brown eyes again. Her ears perk up. "Go on," he mouths to her as he nods back toward the man. To the man's amazement, Lady obeys and walks to his side.

Atlas continues on without looking back, smiling smugly to himself.

"Let's go girl," he hears the man say. The silence that follows was Atlas' sign that she did as he commanded.

Nearing the corner of the boardwalk, the good feeling he had obtained from his moment teasing the man evaporates. All his senses come on full alert to the area around him. Something seemed off. His pace slows as he tries to make sense of the sudden uneasy shift.

Someones following... a whisper came in the back of his mind. A chill runs down his spine. He is used to the idea of being watched, but being followed? The thought of being followed actually frightened him. The anxiety that he had thought he'd controlled explodes within him. He wants to look behind him, but then what? Would they chase him down? Would they turn and leave? Would they just stand there, knowing that he will probably do nothing at all, because that pretty much what it was going to be.

With the turn upon him, he exhales. He'll just use this turn to take a peak. Make it look completely natural. Nothing that will alarm his follower. He tries to pick his pace back up from before, but his anxiety wouldn't allow it. As soon as he follows the path right, he turns his attention ever so slightly to the direction he came. Nothing. The boardwalk behind him was empty.

Confused, he stops walking. His eyes scan the area carefully, inch by inch, waiting to see if whoever -or whatever- made his senses heighten would appear.

After a harrowing minute or two later he begins to think he may be going crazy. There was no sign of a presence, not even a possible peak around a building or tree to see if he had continued walking. But he doesn't feel alone. Frustrated now, Atlas forces himself to take steps. His ears ringing as he strode, listening for footsteps of any kind to start back up.

All was quiet the rest of the way, but that nagging feeling he was being followed would not go away. As he makes his way down a small path leading off the main boardwalk toward his home, he turns his attention to either side of the road making sure it was okay to cross once he came to it. As he looks right, he can clearly make out a dark figure out of the corner of his eye. He turns to it, his eyes meeting the figure clothed in black facing in his direction. Atlas catches his breath on an inhale as a dose of adrenaline shoots into his system.

His head automatically returns to face forward as if he hadn't seen anything at all. He is being followed. But...by whom? And why? He frantically searches his brain for a plausible cause. He is always careful, so careful. All he had done recently was mess around with the dog and her owner, but even that didn't look out of the ordinary. His heart was pounding now thinking there had to be something he did that he had forgotten about.

The girl appears in his mind and his eyes widen. Did she perhaps see something? He is 95% sure he had covered the parts of him that were still lingering in his natural form. But how certain could he really be? She's the only outsider who had been so close, who had caused him to break a rule not once, but twice. If not her, who else was there?

Then it dawned on him. There was the possibility of others out there aware of his existence. Could they have finally figured it out? They had been quiet for so long, why would they suddenly out themselves now? Maybe this was some sick joke someone was pulling on him.

He cautiously turns back in the direction of where he saw the figure and he can feel his heart drop into his stomach. The figure is gone... He was absolutely certain there was someone just there. Doing a full circle, he checks to see if the figure hadn't just moved. Was he going crazy? Maybe that's what the figure wants him to think. They seem to know exactly how to get to him.

He couldn't go home now. If this person is real and they know even the slightest thing about him, he can't bring them to his family. This was going to stay his problem and his alone. His feet move making his final decision for him. He wasn't sure where he was going, but anywhere would be safer than here. And for the first time, he hoped he was just going crazy.