Our sea voyage is great fun — until we leave sight of land, that is. When the coastal hills disappear below the horizon, my heartbeat suddenly quickens and I feel a lump in my throat. There’s nothing as far as the eye can see in any direction now but a seemingly limitless expanse of empty ocean. All of a sudden, I feel very insignificant.
Thankfully, the sea is relatively calm, and the Star of India is gliding across the water with only the tiniest bit of up and down motion. If the water was rougher, I’d really be feeling anxious. Still, I’m not all that happy—I guess I had thought we would just follow the coast northward all the way to San Francisco.
“Why are we going so far out?” I ask Jordy, who is hanging out along the rail with us. “Isn’t that dangerous? How do we know where we’re going if we can’t see the coast?”
Jordy smiles at my unease.
“Don’t worry, Leah. During
The second day of our voyage is pretty much a repeat of the first. Weapons practice and studying mixed in with periods of boredom. You can only stare out at an empty ocean for so long. At least I’m getting used to the idea of not being able to see land.The only thing of note occurs an hour or so after lunch, when I notice that we seem to have changed direction in regards to the position of the sun. I’m pretty sure the ship is now heading more westerly than it had been. I’m no expert, of course, so I decide to go ask my dad about it. I tell my friends I’ll be back in a minute. I don’t share what’s troubling me, because most of them don’t seem to care how far from land we go, and I don’t want to alarm the ones who do, like Plush.Dad is sitting at a makeshift table fashioned out of two sawhorses and a wide wooden plank. Huddled over the table with him are Lieutenant Gregerson and Captain Spiby. They seem to be looking at s
Protected by a ring of sturdy Marines—including Jordy, who has taken up station right in front of Radar—we watch anxiously. For several moments, nothing happens.One of the Marines guarding us turns to his buddy. “What was that thing?”The other guy shakes his head. “Beats me. But whatever is was, let’s hope it doesn’t come back.”Radar glances at me. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”I nod. “Kraken,” I say, remembering the mermaids’ description of the terrible beast when they told us why most creatures from their world avoid the water.“There’s been no recent Anomaly around here,” Radar says. “I would have felt it if there was. That can only mean one thing.”A sinking feeling passes over me. I’m pretty sure I know where she’s going with this.“If there was no Anomaly,” I say, “then this thing has been swimming around in our world for awhile.”“Which means the water is no longer safe,” Radar says, finishing my thought. “There could be any number of kraken in our oceans by now.”“I
I awaken to find my cheek pressed against a layer of damp sand. For a moment, I have no idea where I am or what I’m doing here, but it slowly comes back to me. I remember the kraken’s furious attack upon our ship and the blow I took to my head that knocked me over the side and into the ocean.I reach up with my fingers and gently probe the right side of my scalp, hoping perhaps that it was all just a bad dream. Sure enough, I find an egg-sized lump and some dried blood in my hair. I wince. It’s painful to touch, but it doesn’t seem too bad—at least it doesn’t seem to be bleeding any longer. The cold salt water undoubtedly helped reduce the seriousness of the injury.Moving carefully, I push myself up into a sitting position. Even that gentle movement causes a brief spell of dizziness to wash over me. Closing my eyes, I wait for the dizziness to pass. It doesn’t take long. When I open my eyes again, I scan my surroundings, turning my head very slowly as I do.I’m alone on a narrow, cre
It was not a dream. When I first open my eyes I’m momentarily confused, but when I see the glowing embers that are that remain of my fire it all comes back to me. It’s morning now, but I don’t know how early. I’m still in the shadow of the cliff, and I can’t see how high the sun has risen in the sky. The air is cold, though, so I know the sun hasn’t been up long enough to begin heating up the day.I reach into my emergency pouch and pull out the special blanket. Unfolding it quickly, I wrap myself inside it, then carefully place a couple of sticks and small logs on top of the pile of orange embers. I blow softly onto the coals, feeding them more oxygen. In just a few moments the thinner sticks catch fire, followed by the thicker ones. Between my newly ignited fire and my foil blanket, I’m soon warm and comfortable.I’m also very hungry. I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday, and my stomach feels like there’s a
I turn back toward the ocean. From my new vantage point, I can see a much broader swath of water than I could from down on the beach, but it doesn’t matter. As far as my eyes can see, the sun-dappled sea is completely empty. I swallow my disappointment. I knew the odds were small, but I had been hoping for a sight of The Star of India, or at least one of the lifeboats. But there’s nothing. The huge, seemingly endless expanse of ocean drives home just how alone I really am. If any of my party survived, they’ve come ashore somewhere beyond my sight.I crawl slowly toward a small clump of leafy shrubs that offers me at least some concealment and push myself up into a sitting position. I’ve been so consumed with getting off the beach that I haven’t really given any thought about what to do next. Well, I’m off the beach now, so it’s time to decide, no matter how futile any decisions might seem.I guess a good place to start is by fi
The road in front of me has disappeared, swallowed up by a giant landslide. Tons of rock, dirt and other debris have come crashing down from the steep hillside, completely covering the highway. Green, stringy weeds and small plants sprout up from the soil, telling me the slide occurred several years ago, at the least. It would take a team of bulldozers to clear the way, and there are no bulldozers anywhere in sight.This section of road is one that skirts the very edge of the cliffs, so there’s no going around the blockage on the ocean side. I’m either going to have to climb the ridge to my right to find a way past it, or pick my way over the remains of the landslide. Neither looks like a particularly appetizing alternative.The hill above the road is bare and almost vertical for the first twenty feet or so. Above that, the terrain is steep and seems to be more thickly wooded than any I’ve passed so far. Maybe that’s just because for the first time I’m seriously considering trying to
I’m standing face to face with a monster. It’s a giant lizard-like creature that looks something like a cross between an iguana and a crocodile. The beast is twenty feet long if it’s an inch, with a long, tapering tail making up more than a third of its length. Thick, slimy green scales cover its body. Four short, bent legs lift it a foot or so off the ground, but its arched back and thick neck raise its elongated snout higher than my waist. The huge head is fully as large as my torso, and a two-pronged red tongue darts in and out between twin rows of yellow, dagger-like teeth. The thing has positioned itself diagonally across the road, blocking it completely.Whether this is a creature that came through a portal from There or is simply a mutant from my own world doesn’t matter. Its bulbous eyes are fastened directly on me, with a look I can only describe as hungry. I hold my machete in front of me, gripped tightly in both hands. The weapon seems puny
The sun is beginning to sink low in the sky. I’m guessing I’ve got maybe an hour of daylight left—enough time to cover two or three more miles before I’ll have to start looking for a safe place to spend the night. “Safe” being a very relative term out here in the wilds, of course.In one section of the western sky, the high clouds have been twisted by upper level winds into an angry-looking vortex of gray and white. At least I hope the clouds have been shaped by high winds. The alternative is a giant Anomaly about to open in the sky and spew forth dangerous monsters. While flying creatures are rare, they’re not unheard of. Rocs and wyverns have been seen by people I’ve talked to, and tales are told of fire-breathing dragons, though no one I know has ever encountered one of those.Speaking of monsters, the reptile creature has still not appeared at the bottom of the hill, for which I’m profoundly grateful. With luck,