Consciousness came to him slowly, as Chris fought it every step of the way. Unwanted, his senses woke gradually. His tongue slid out over salty lips, and the scent suddenly hit him. He remembered this smell – the ocean. An old memory surfaced of cold planks, grating sand, and pain. He had smelled the ocean then, but that wasn’t the scent. Oh god, it was blood, and not his, but Toby’s. He was covered in dried blood and his own salty tears. Was Toby still alive? He needed to know, so he could stop drowning in the scent of death.