2. SHIT, SHIT, SHIT.

Fucking hell.

I looked around. The Yacht was closer than the shore. That is my fastest way out.

I looked at my leg. The welt was the same. Maybe a bit more swelling. I have just been stung by a MUTATED jellyfish.

Shit, shit, shit.

Am I going to mutate? What if I turn to jelly? What if only my leg turns to jelly?

Shit, shit, shit.

I poke my leg. It is still solid. The welt hasn’t got bigger, but the prickling is turning into a burning sensation. That is still all normal, right?

Shit, shit, shit.

I try standing on the leg. It feels OK. Still solid. It can take my weight. Time to swim for the yacht before anything else happens. I was a bit reluctant to get back in the water. I could get the motor boat to collect me.

Shit, shit, shit.

A wave crashed against the rock, splashing me. My blood ran cold again. I have taken several mouthfuls of mutated affected water. I have been immersed in it. My eyes. My skin.

Shit, shit, shit.

I coughed it out. It has been as far as my lungs. Am I going to become a mutated fish, half man, half fish?

Shit, shit, shit.

Images of the spider cat come to mind.

Shit, shit, shit.

I poke my leg. Still solid. Have I finished my panic attack yet?

Maybe, maybe not.

I take a deep breath. That calms me. It also means I can still breathe. I take another breath just to be sure.

OK, first priority. I have been stung by a Jellyfish, and my leg needs treatment. Whatever the fuck else is going on, that is normal and can be treated. I hope.

To get treatment for my leg, I must get to the yacht where the first aid kit is. The anomaly does not just affect water. It affects everything within a certain radius. That’s what the internet said. Shit, I am regurgitating the internet. Things must be bad.

It is best for me to get to the yacht rather than get other people close to this.

Now for the big one. Who do I tell about this? From what I know, I will either Mutate good and live or mutate bad and die. Maybe I won’t mutate? Yeah, right. I will do some proper research when I get back to my apartment.

But.

If I tell people, I won’t go back to my apartment. I will be in a lab, probably for the rest of my life. Just like those mutated animals are in labs being experimented on.

Shit, shit, shit.

How many other people have been exposed and are in labs worldwide?

Shit, shit, shit.

If I don’t say anything, this grows and affects more animals and people.

Shit, shit, shit.

Wait a minute. Mutated vinyard and mutated wine. That might be a good thing.

Idiot.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

I am obviously losing it. I am not thinking straight. Make a plan.

First, get to the yacht and get my leg treated.

Then, get to my apartment, do some research, and decide how to let people know without getting locked up. If I become a puddle of jelly on the floor, so be it.

Right, plan decided, I check my leg. Not jelly. Still swollen. Still hurts. I take a deep breath. Still breathing. I examine the ocean. I don’t want another sting. Or worse. No. Don’t think about worse.

The Yacht. Possibly a ten-minute swim. Piece of cake. I can do it with my eyes closed. I will probably do it with my eyes closed. No. I need to look out for jellyfish. Head above water means breaststroke, so maybe a fifteen-minute swim. I don’t want to dive in, so let's get in the water.

The waves are getting stronger. That wouldn’t be a problem if I could just swim normally. Maybe I should just swim normally. Less time in the water. Shit.

I was in the water now, holding on to the rock. A wave hit at an awkward angle, and my leg scraped the rock. Shit, did it break the skin?

Fuck it! I need to get to the yacht now. Just swim fast. I have been immersed once, and it is too late. Let's go.

I pushed away from the rock and swam. Fast. Not the fastest I could go as I was still feeling off, but it was fast.

An eternity later, I came up to the back of the yacht, where there was a platform and ladder. My imagination was running riot. Was that a sting? What is that over there? Can I still feel my leg?

“Can I get some help!” I yelled as I hauled myself up on the platform.

A crewman's face poked over the side, “Sure, mate. What’s the problem?”

“I have a jellyfish sting that will need some treatment.”

“No problem. Can you get up the ladder, or do you need help?”

I checked my leg. Not jelly. I stood and grabbed the ladder. I was a little dizzy, but it went away quickly. I am sure it is the exertion that caused that. Definitely. Absolutely.

“I can get up,” and I started to climb.

“Right. Take a seat, and I will grab the first-aid kit. Jellyfish stings are no biggy unless you are allergic. If that were the case, you wouldn’t be climbing the ladder.” He headed to the cabin for the kit.

I sat in the nearest seat. The crewman came back with a kit. Dave, according to his name tag. “Let's look at it and see if there are any barbs left in it.” I turned my thigh so it was visible. He put on some gloves and got a pair of tweezers. He then looked closely at the wound and used the tweezers on a couple of things I couldn’t see. “Right, that should be good,” he said. “The next step is to get some hot water running over it. As hot as you can stand. We have a shower, but the hot water will run out quickly. Let's get you in, and then I have some cream here that will help.”

He guided me into the cabin and said, “Stay in until the pain eases. If you have problems, just yell, as I will stay close by.”

I had a shower and borrowed a towel. He let me apply the cream, and I put my swimming trunks back on. We were pulling out of the bay when I went up on deck.

I grabbed Dave, “Hey, my bag was back on shore.”

“Oh, don’t worry, it will be with the vans. We will make sure we get it back to you by Monday.”

Monday, when I will be on holiday and not at work. It has my keys. And my phone. And my E-reader.

Shit.

A weekend without my e-reader?

Shit

I grabbed Dave, “My wallet and phone are in it, man.”

“Right.” he thought briefly, “I will call the vans, and maybe one of your coworkers can bring it to you.”

I slumped a bit. “Susie will know where I live. She won’t be able to phone me…”

“No problem, I will do that now."

No Problem? Big fucking problem. Shit. This is the last fucking company event I am ever going on.

I dozed off on the trip back to Auckland. That was unusual. We were coming in to dock when I came too. One of my co-workers paid for my ride-share home. I promised to pay her back, so I have to remember her name. I am sure I will recognise her.

I hope my neighbour is home. She has my spare key. If she is out, I have to find the property manager, and I don’t have my phone. It is only a small apartment block., three stories, with four apartments per floor. The Property Manager is only here when needed, so contacting him might be difficult.

I am sweating a bit when the ride-share drops me off. Shit. I am going to turn into jelly. I plug my code into the door to access the building and trudge up the stairs. My apartment is on the middle floor in the middle of the others. It was the cheapest for the location.

I knock on the door of apartment 2A, and hear some mumbling and then a, “What the hell do you want?”

I look at the spyhole in the door. “My spare key, Maple. Thanks for being such a sweetie.” I am always teasing her about her being named after something so sweet. She hates it. We get on well.

I hear, “Fucking idiot can’t even keep his key safe.” The door opens as far as the security chain allows. She is a little paranoid about security. “Here!” she shoves the key card at me. “Now, leave me alone.” The door slams shut.

“When are you going to introduce me to your granddaughter?” I yell through the door.

“Fucking never!” is the reply. I smile. She’s lovely. If only she were forty years younger.

I open my door and then lean on the counter for a minute. Shit, I am not feeling well. I think I will lie down for a bit.