You have no idea what time it is when the vague sound of distant voices wakes you up. From your place on the floor, you can't see a thing but darkness out the beach-facing window, and as you stretch your arms to your sides, you notice that Agent Hooters appears to have left while you were dozing.
Standing up and walking towards the wide-panel window, you only see the moonlight shimmering on the waves gently lapping on the beach, but you hear the voices you'd heard before a bit more clearly, and sense they're coming from the other end of the beach from the "party" you'd dragged the busty agent away from earlier. You wrap a red life guard's beach blanket around your waist, open the door and descend the creaking wooden stairs onto the beach and start trodding through the sand.
For a half-mile or so, there's nothing but discarded bottles and cigarettes, along with one or two forgotten flip-flops. You hear something crinkle under your bare feet, look down and see two Trojan condom wrappers. Must've been quite the day for some lucky guy, you think with a smirk. Suddenly, you hear what sounds like a young woman's voice to your left, in the woods just beyond where the sand meets the grass. It sounded like "Oh shit!", or maybe "I'm hit"? It wasn't the agent's voice, but your legs are already pumping and you find yourself breaking through the tree line. You see a soft glow further into the woods, and finally spot a clearing with a bonfire in the center.
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