Sebastian Inlet Tide Chart Novels & Stories

No sign of subject. Coast Guard search initiated at 19:47 hours. Air and sea search conducted for 72 hours. Severe weather conditions hampered recovery efforts. No body recovered. Subject declared legally dead in absentia on March 1, 1991. I pull up the tidal charts for that night. February 14, 1991. High tide at 18:42 hours. The Atlantic currents don't care about narratives; they only obey gravity. That night, the current was flowing northeast to southwest.

“The ship’s going down anyway. Get him out of the firefight. Is the sun rising yet?” “Yes.” “That’s due east. Tell him to swim northwest – there’s an island about half a mile away.” I grabbed Sebastian. “Tell me you can swim.” He looked at me in confusion. “Yes – why?” “You’ve got to go in the water.” The confusion turned to horror. “What?!” “Head northwest – there’s an island half a mile away.” “Are you crazy?!” BLAM BLAM BLAM! The wood door splintered behind us.

I didn't hear the rest of her words as I was already far away. *~* Twenty-five minutes later, I arrived at the front of Sebastian's condo. I rang the doorbell a couple of times before it opened to reveal Sebastian in a grey fleece sweatpant and sweatshirt. He looked younger without the usual suit. He put his hand into his pocket and took out his phone, looking at the time before looking back at me. "You said fifteen minutes Evelyn, you are ten minutes late,"

River begins, but his feet speaks for him as he walks away from Sebastian, when vomit fills his mouth. Leaving the man confused and even more concerned. Sebastian instinctively checks his breath, finding nothing atrocious about it,but before he can think to go after River, his cellphone rings loudly. Reverberating through the sitting area cacophonously. Enough to annoy Sebastian, as it was then an unwelcome intrusion. "Hi, Grace." Sebastian answers, and the other line clicks noisily. "I take it you've arrived?" Grace's voice asks. "Yes, have you heard from Charles?"

Shelly said, the two simplest words that could hold a vow. He was at my side the next breath, palm on my cheek, thumb finding the arch there like he always did when he needed proof I was alive. “Talk to me.” “I’m okay.” It was almost true, and I made it more true by saying it. “The baby’s.. she’s moving. She’s okay.” “Good girl,” he whispered, and it sounded like a prayer and a threat to the world. Then, louder, for Sebastian: “Power’s cut at the subpanel. Comms are jammed. South breach is open and there are more coming from the west.”

And now she wasn’t even sure what she was going to say. She pushed it open gently. Sebastian was alone, jacket off, white shirt sleeves rolled up as he sat by the window looking at something on his laptop. The soft glow of the evening sun framed him in light, making his usually hard expression look... distant. Thoughtful. He looked up. “Ms. Brown.” She flinched at the formal tone. It hit harder than a raised voice. “Sebastian,” she said quietly. He gestured toward the table without looking away. “Is this about tomorrow’s forecast? Or...?”

Sebastian POV The armored truck sped through the gates of the valley estate. I was sitting in the passenger seat. My fingers were pressed against the glass screen of a corporate satellite phone. My white jersey was still damp with sweat and gray soot from the basement junction room. I did not feel the chill of the air conditioning. I dialed the emergency line for the regional port authority. "This is Sebastian Wolfe," I said. My voice was flat and hard. "Close the locks at the harbor. Every shipping vessel must stay at the dock."

As Avianna stood before Sebastian, tears streamed down her cheeks, reflecting the shimmering moonlight. The gentle breeze carried the scent of the sea, mingling with the faint aroma of tropical flowers. They were on the beach, the soft sand beneath their feet, the sound of waves lapping against the shore providing a soothing backdrop to their conversation.

“You know it's not just that. I hope you are ready?" Sebastian blinked severally as he heaved a sigh. "I can do that." He muttered, even though fear lingered in his mind. Taking in a deep breath, Sebastian hoped he would have enough strength to withstand the storm to come.

Then whispered, “Welcome to the end of the Blackwell dynasty.” The photograph drifted to the floor. Sebastian never looked at it again. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, waves crashed violently against the cliffs surrounding the island. Thunder rolled across the Pacific. The storm had arrived. Sebastian smiled. “Perfect.” The man standing beside him folded his hands behind his back. “You seem confident.” “I am.” “You don’t think Lucien will find another way?” Sebastian chuckled. “I’ve spent twenty-six years studying Lucien Vale.”