Samir waded into the ocean with small, wriggly waves hitting his legs and splashing water as high as his face. He stopped when he was knee-deep and bent down and scooped a handful of wet sand from the bottom. He rubbed the shaft clean of the dead man's fluids with the sand, staring out onto the ocean.
There was a sail out there. A single triangular sail, barely visible above the horizon. It was very far away, but after watching it for a while Samir ascertained that it was moving north, together with the wind.
Who could it be?
It was Trouble, that's what it was.
