Chapter 15

Click.

The electronic shutter opened and immortalized the movement of two breakers colliding over each other. One curved wall of water, pierced by a beam of sunlight, transforming it into a translucent blue-green, and the cool, steel gray of another meeting it in a freak, once-in-a-lifetime moment handed out as a gift of the gods to a deserving mortal.

Or, in this case, to her. Abby grinned, despite her wet mane whipping around her neck in the howling wind, and the windbreaker plastered to her. Water streaked down her face, but she’d gotten the shot, along with a few hundred others that had screamed to be taken. It was like nature had conjured up this huge coastal conflagration and then yanked her out of her tent to celebrate its surreal power, to preserve its byproduct of breathtaking artistry for eternity.

Her heart swelled, thinking of the shots she’d gotten. They were good. Beyond good.

Windborne sea foam slapped at her, harvested from the ocean by the slams of concentric air flying everywhere. She smeared it from her face, the underlying aura of eons of marine life in the spray. The smell was woven into the air around her, the visitation of the dank seaweed in it part of the spiraling wind.

She was done here. She’d just have to hope her efforts were worth one of the most prestigious photographic awards of the year. The contest that meant life to her.

She braced against the wind, faced the boil of tide, and scanned the horizon, taking it all in. Said a silent goodbye to the tropical tempest that was in wild motion around her.

Thank you. Thank you.

Half hidden behind the cliff to the right, her gaze snagged on something. She glared at it, raised her hands to shield against the rain striking at her to make sure it was real.

And hell. It was.

A mirror of the shot she’d taken of the ocean. Only on a far grander scale.

One third of the horizon was bathed in utter calm, reaching right down to the turquoise sea, lucent in its breakers as it tossed. The other two-thirds was tempestuous, dark. Grey seas under, angry clouds distressing the expanse.

And almost a straight line between them.

An incredible split sky.

On such a vast scale? Horizon to horizon?

Her heart pumped furiously as the wind whirled around her. The money shot. If only, she thought, as she mentally figured out the shot, framed it…

If only that damn cliff wasn’t in the way.

But if she could get that cliff out of the way…

Her eyes traced the line from the bottom of the precipice to its top. A path beaten into the sharply sloping ground rose steadily upwards until almost the top, where a stand of palm trees rode it as sentinel.

Her stomach dipped. The path was narrow in stretches, though vegetation bracketed it on both sides.

On the one side though, as it rose—a fearsome drop.

It was like nature was taunting her. Dangling a prize in front of her.

You’ve gone this far…come a bit farther.

Her stomach rose into her throat. Really?

The height thing? Again?

It was going to come between her and what she wanted again?

Twice on this one damn shoot. And there was no Dare here for her to lean on now, no blast from the past to help her out, no sweet, kind, slimy cheating bastard who knew her intimately enough to get her through it just before he blew the life out of her again.

Tremors coursed through her. She looked around, and yes, the wind had abated, and the rain was lighter. It wouldn’t take long. She could get to the bottom, climb up. She’d seen Jake and Jor up there the day before. She could take the shot, the shot, then get the hell out of Dodge.

But the sky. Maybe it was already distorted. It might already be too late….

She raised her gaze upwards, and with a sharp exhalation that tore from her throat, she realized the cruel, taunting nature of fate.

The vista had shifted, ever so slightly, but if it was possible, into more of a perfect line.

She started running, her shoes thudding in the damp sand.

Reaching the bottom of the headland at the end of the beach, she threw a quick glance upwards as the rain grew sparser, then abated. A freak calm in the midst of a gathering storm?

She pushed the thought away and focused on her task.

Roots crisscrossed the edge of the huge hunk of land in front of her and hung out into the air, but just a few feet in, the vegetation went wild. Fledgling palms and nondescript greenery guarded the brink, and there was a path, though perhaps that was a generous term for it.

Rummaging in her backpack, Abby drew out her worn kidskin gloves, pulled them on to protect her hands. Stuffed the storm cover for her camera into her pocket.

She started up the trail, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

Senses on hyper-alert, she focused on safety first, speed second. One foot after another, thrusting her hands into the vegetation beside her, she picked out the quickest way. Reaching deep for branches, she clamped onto them solidly for balance. Bending low under the wind, she was aware that a few feet over to the side, the height intensified the drop.

No. Don’t think of that.

She continued, climbing higher as her safety net of vegetation evaporated. Focusing only on her feet.

Then the path thinned, dwindled to nothing. Looking up, the bulk of the promontory faced her, bare dirt in front of her, clawed out by wind and weather. An earthen barrier, almost cutting off the view of sky.

A few more feet and she knew, as her heart leapt into her throat—she was almost there. Almost over the top of it.

One step, two. She found the footholds that catapulted her higher. A couple more.

Then only one more was left, as a voice she’d pushed down all her life called within her.

Take the step. Stand as conqueror on the stormy cape. Watch as nature unfurls her tumultuous performance to you, and you alone.

The wind eddied around her, rippling her sodden garments. Shoving at her. Pushing her away as if with two strong hands. Flicking drops of wetness, gleaned from the vegetation, at her.

Mounting.

Should she go? Was it safe?

Just before she took that last step up onto the storm-swirled peninsula, she peered ahead. The horizon, visible now over the bluff, met her gaze squarely. Calling her. Claiming her without shame for itself in unabashed pride.

A thrill coursed through her.

She couldn’t have stayed back if she’d wanted to.

Pulling herself up onto the sulking headland, she straightened as the sky threw its arms wide and opened them to her.

Her gasp of awe reverberated in the silent sanctum she’d entered.

It. Was. Glorious.

Twisting coils of air collided with each other, blasting the ground in front of her, forcing small bushes to undulate like jade banners rippling in the wind like thin paper.

These, right here, were the scant moments of calm before the killer storm hurtled forth.

The perfect line dissecting the sky had shifted, and there was less perfection to photograph. She knelt to steady herself. Whipping her camera out, she made the adjustments hurriedly. Groped in her bag, seized the customized filter she’d created, changed it with icy hands, her fingers almost too cold to work. Knelt on one knee on the wet ground, not in reverence now, but in determination to showcase the gift she’d been given, the masterpiece she’d been allowed to witness. Framed the shot, fixed the depth of field, adjusted the aperture.

Click. Click. Click.

Her fingers flew by rote, as she shot still after still. Kneeling. Standing. Every possible angle and sightline taken into consideration. Her heart swelled as the incredible scene was like nothing she’d seen before anywhere, not even in the award-winning shots she’d studied for years.

She was almost done when the hum of the wind invaded her ear. She bit her lip, fear darting through the awe.

One final glance as the two halves shifted, tangled. The art disappeared in front of her, as angry masses of cloud converged, took ownership of the horizon, and blackened cruelly. A warning note sounded deep in her as she stuffed her camera next to her body, the slicker zipped up, protecting it. Placing her back against the sky, she shoved the camera in its case, and headed for the path. Sat her ass on the lip of the headland, grabbed at the dirt for handholds, and slid inches in the damp earth until her feet tangled in a low-lying shrub. Stood, using the hardy stalks of young palms, then turned into the headland, focused on her feet, ensuring her steps were solid.

Grasping the vegetation along the way, she made her way down backwards, chased by her own fears of weather with a capital W about to hit.

Turning finally to face the beach, she jumped the last few feet and landed in the wet sand, relief palpable in her veins, the wind flicking her sweat away. Her eyes searched the shoreline.

The serene sky of a minute ago was gone. Her time had run out.