Chapter 1

It was the sparkling of the sun shining off the surface of the water that finally awoke him. His body, tired and bedraggled by the abuse of the elements, heaved itself up to look around. The man grimaced as he rubbed his neck, hoping to ease at least some of his soreness. He looked around at his surroundings, hoping for a change, but everything was as he had left it.

The tiny piece of wood, barely the size of a bedroom door, still floated aimlessly in the endless expanse of water. Sunlight from above, and it's reflection from below, caused the man to squint and look off in the distance, searching for some sign of hope.

He had forgotten how many days he had lived on his makeshift raft. He had no recollection of how he came to be here, or even his life before this picturesque prison. He couldn't remember when he had finally resigned himself to his fate, but for any that knew him, he would have appeared a dismal shell of the man they knew.

His shoulders were in a perpetual slump under some unseen weight. His brow furrowed from the sun and his own consternation. And his hands. Once delicate, slender fingers of an artist had become bruised, blistered and dirty. Callouses on his fingertips lay open and bloody. Where once his fingers would have appeared to move with a grace and beauty, now only was a fist clenched in pain and despair.

He slowly worked his way to his hands and knees and stared into the blue depth of the water. What lay below the surface was a mystery, but he knew that to abandon his floating prison meant death.