Ch 2 P.7. Green Wave

Marle filled his lungs with warm air and opened his eyes to green light. He recalled falling back first through a cold, black night. Now, he was suspended face down, his bound wrists hanging below him. There was no sensation of falling, but he felt a slight warm breeze pass over his skin. When Marle realized there was nothing below him for as far as the eye could see, his body jerked involuntarily. It was like the cracking of a whip that spent its energy along the entire length of his body.

“What now?” he shouted angrily.

Although he felt like his voice was loud, what he heard seemed to be from a distance. His voice was muffled. Marle turned his head and tried to look around. He strained and straightened his body, he craned his neck, yet all he could see in any direction was green light. There was no sound, not even the sound of his breathing.

“Damn,” said Marle. His voice was a whisper to his ears.

It was curious; he was suspended in the green light, but he was not weightless. On the contrary, his arms hung below his body, captive to some force like gravity. The same could be said for his legs. Twisting his body back and forth was a futile exercise as he returned to the same position. Everything after the birthday party was a downhill dash without brakes. How much worse could it get?

“Ahhh!” he screamed. “Murphy! You son of a bitch!”

Marle writhed furiously until he was exhausted, then he dropped his head until his panting eased. By then, the slight breeze had increased in speed. It went neither up nor down but blew across the length of his body from front to back. Was he falling forward? Marle raised his face and looked ahead of himself, but there was nothing to see except the infernal green light. He dropped his head and sobbed. In hell, you can't hear yourself weep.

Did he sleep? How long had he been suspended there? He recalled what Felix said; Not your smartest move, man. Had he been cursed? Jinxed? Marle focused on the people he last knew; people before the green wave. Felix was just being honest. Joel was a bit stiff in his British persona, but Marle liked him. Steph was sweet and guileless. It wasn't Cleo, or Eva, or Holly, or Cassie, and it damned sure wasn't Hera. That left one person; one hateful, rascally joker. Rowan!

Marle tried to recall the things Rowan had said to him. He was such a bitter little man. But wasn't he too stupid to voice a curse? Maybe accidentally. Marle had to think carefully; if it was said, it could be unsaid. But that was not much of a plan. As hanging on by a thread went, Marle's thread was unraveling fast.

“Out here, there's me and the deep black. Take your pick,” said Rowan.

“They're on Earth, and we're all hanging by our balls between Mercury and Venus,” said Rowan.

“Tow the line and we'll be fine,” said Rowan.

“I expect two things,” said the chief. “Keep your nose to the grindstone, and keep your nose clean. Any questions?”

Nope. Nothing particularly inimical. Still, in all, that short, fat, and balding man was the new official face for Murphy's Law.

Marle's ruminations ceased. He noted the speed of the wind had grown strong; the wind blew up from underneath as if he were falling. Was he falling again? He looked hard, really hard; he saw no bottom. The new reality had no borders. There was neither up nor down. There were no landmarks by which to judge. If he could see something other than the damnable green wave, he'd be fine. Really.