Chapter Twenty-Eight

The next few days I spent a lot more time with my family than usual. I got to stay up late, playing card games and board games and watching movies, even boring games and an okay movie that somehow we ended up having way to much fun with-simply because we were together, and felt closer than we had in ages. Something had occurred between us in the last few scary hours of my life, and, somehow, it made all the difference. Like it was easier to talk freely and laugh away troubles `after you’d been reduced to not knowing where to start.

In fact, it took me three days to discover I’d gotten a text from Cara. I instantly felt bad for not responding quickly. Did she think I was blowing her off? I pressed my thumb to home button and clicked on her contact.

Come over my house Friday at nine its about the place with the stuff

I noted absent-mindedly that she really should have written it in two sentences before realizing that she meant today.

And while “the place with the stuff” could technically mean virtually anything, there was only one place I figured it could be. (Hint: I just realized it existed and the portal is my fireplace . . .but please tell me you did not need that hint)

Considering it was about the single most intriguing thing in my life, I decided to go even though I wanted just as bad to hang with my parents longer. So, after spending fifteen minutes convincing my parents I wasn’t going to die on the way there, I hopped on my bike and set off to Cara’s house.

My neighborhood was large and complicated. It was also the place to go for privacy-which made sense, really, considering I lived there. It had such a random location and a tendency of making strangers accidentally circle through all the same places, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone unfamiliar make it near my house at the cul-de-sac. Besides Autumn, that is.

But people as strange and mysterious as her shouldn’t count for these things.

However, Cara lived in the neighborhood over, which was a different story. She lived at what was not only a larger house than any in my neighborhood, but also the one people tended to remember because of the insane zip-line in the side yard. (I’ve been on it several times-it’s great because it goes right over the in-ground pool and we can let ourselves drop into the water. Being friends with Cara has its perks)

Cara’s house is also perfectly positioned for spying. It sits right next to the main road, so any cars that come in the neighborhood go right by it.

Of course, that’s not the only exit from her neighborhood. However, the other one recently was blocked by a fairly large sinkhole, and no one really used it anyway so it never got fixed.

It made Cara’s house the perfect secret agent headquarters in third grade, when we would spy on suspicious neighbors returning from their highly illegal grocery shopping.

Now, I absent-mindedly lead my bike into the driveway and stopped at the extremely familiar surroundings.

Cara stood in the open garage, enthusiastically and urgently beckoning me over.

What did she have in mind that was so urgent?

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“I-sorry-didn’t mean-” I choked, but they were hopping down through the hole with expressions of utter relief and suddenly I found myself in the center of a tight, three-way hug.

I just stood there (because somehow I had gotten whisked off my bed), wide-eyed. I barely even winced when they accidentally touched the several cuts and bruises all over me.

After an eternity of tears and shock and love, my dad finally pulled away, looking more steely and stern despite the extra shines in his eyes. “You are in big trouble, young lady,” he stated firmly.

“I’m really sorry,” I apologized.

“Any how many times have we talked to you about strangers?” Mom added.

I remained silent in response to this. After all, she’d really only said it once or twice-I could be so agreeable and rule-abiding at times that it didn’t seem necessary to push reminders of boundaries. However, it really didn’t seem smart to say so now. Right now, I just wanted to be back in their good graces, and maybe even get back all the trust I must have utterly demolished just now.

“That Autumn,” Mom continued, hugging me close again, “barging into the house, and the attic, never mind vandalizing our property . . .” It appeared she was far more angry at Autumn than she could ever be at me.  “What happened on the island?” It was spoken with an urgency on levels I didn’t usually hear from her.

I explained everything, from how Cara and I wandered the island to discovering the secret hideout and Angela helping us get back. They looked startled at how long we searched the island, then nodded when Angela came up. When I finally finished my story, something had occurred to me. “Why didn’t you come after me?”

“We wanted to,” Dad assured me quickly. “But it seemed likely the people who sent Autumn were waiting for you there, so we called Angela for backup. She told us nobody else was there.”

“They have WiFi there,” Mom explained further, “But it’s unpredictable how long it takes a signal to travel through the portal. I had no idea you were there so long!” Then she said something that caught me off guard. “We’re so sorry.”

“What?” I asked, startled.

“We’re sorry,” Dad repeated.

I blinked. In all my predictions and fantasized scenes of this moment I had come up with in the last few days, this scenario had not been one of them. Even in fantasies where my parents decided to reward my hard work discovering their secrets at such odds against me with a trip to Disney World, there was no apology. This, for one, I had not anticipated.

“We were too secretive and we lied to you, when you’re our daughter and you deserve to know.” Mom sounded frustrated with someone-maybe herself. “It could have destroyed our relationship, and I’m so sorry.”

I opened my mouth, but was unsure why I’d done it. No words came to me, and even if they had, I’d suddenly found myself incapable of speaking at all. Something had stuck itself in my throat, and I could only wait for Mom, or Dad, to fill the silence.

However, they hadn’t expected me to say anything. They simply brought me into a tight hug once more, and seemed excessively reluctant to ever let go.

And I didn’t mind at all.

Even with my cuts and bruises protesting every squeeze and touch, I didn’t pull away or even wince. I barely even realized they were there.

Instead, I felt something I’d felt a few times before, but never to this degree. It was like the calm after the storm. All the anxiety and nerves and jumpiness that had built up inside me to massive, dark clouds dropping torrents of rain had been suddenly blown away. The sun shone down, and so abruptly I hadn’t seen it coming, and now all I could feel was happiness.

Happiness, relief . . . and peace.

And finally I found my voice again. “I’m sorry,” I croaked, as if they hadn’t known that already, and the hug broke up. “I love you.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

“So we just touch it?” Cara asked, peering at the little brown blob curiously.

“Yes,” Angela confirmed. “But first you have to decide where to land . . . and you’re probably going to want somewhere soft.”

My terrifying fall into the ocean came to mind, and I nodded. I wouldn’t want to repeat that onto concrete.

I walked over to the Peacock Fern tentatively, with a few glances back at Cara in case she had any more silent “messages”. She didn’t, although she did seem a bit wary.

The plant dangled from Angela’s hand. It was almost ominous, the way the bright colors shimmered as they swayed slightly, compelling me over. It was like they called bystanders over in mock innocence touch me . . . touch me . . .

And I was that crazy one who would be touching it. Who would let the temporary portal open. Who would use the fern for its concealed power.

It didn’t seem prudent.

But I was doing it.

I reached out a hand, concentrating on my soft bed at home.

My finger was an inch away from it . . .

At the last second, I looked up at Angela. She was smiling, watching me warmly with that calm, friendly manner she had so mastered. “Thank you,” I said.

My finger brushed against the slightly fuzzy surface of the seed. Pushing my bed back to mind, I tried not to wonder what the portal would look like . . .

And long before I could have guessed, it formed out of nowhere.

One second, I was standing with my finger on a brown seed. The next, I was falling through nothingness.

The ground seemed to suddenly be simply not there. It had disintegrated into nothing from beneath my feet. I barely had time to see Cara’s startled expression and Angela’s forever calm one before the blackness swallowed me up.

For the second time that day, I was caught between worlds-between what human senses can detect and what, if there was anything there at all to be detected, we would never be capable of knowing.

And then, once again, it was over.

There was a flash of light, and in an instant I realized something was wrong.

Instead of the calming blue of my room, I saw the bright, flashing lights of the attic. I barely caught sight of my parents’ shocked faces before I hit the floor.

However, the Peacock Fern seemed still to know how to get the job done. The impact had been too much for that particularly feeble section of floor.

There was a stentorian crash that rattled the whole house-and then I was on my bed, just not quite as intended.

Funny, really-it didn’t feel as comfortable as anticipated as I lay on it and a host of other debris, shocked, staring through a gaping hole in the ceiling.

Everything was silent.

My parents peered through the hole. Seeing their expressions, anyone would have thought they were in the middle of finding a dead body. But, the scary part was, maybe they thought they would.

More silence.

That is, except for the deep breaths I was taking, trying to remain calm but utterly failing.

My arm and half my back burned where I had broken the ceiling. I could feel drops of blood dripping off me and onto the debris below me-hot and yet chilling.

I wondered weakly whether my parents would pity me at all-if, say, I had seriously hurt myself-after what I had put them through. But now didn’t really seem to be the time for such thoughts.

Then my mom exclaimed, “Sofie!”

Chapter Twenty-Five

“C’mon, let’s go.” Angela walked over to the tropical forest section of the island.

Feeling a bit like a robot told to walk into an active volcano-programmed to follow, but dreading its destination-I tailed her wordlessly. In all the wide, wide world of words and sentences, I had nothing, absolutely nothing, to say.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Cara’s eyes for a split second. They were a bit wide, considering we were just casually strolling along a perfect island. And it wasn’t like she had to worry about being in trouble. Her parents would think she had a nice day at good friend Sofie’s house, and maybe hit the beach, from the look of her damp, sand-coated clothes.

She stared at me pointedly.

I frowned. Was it possible she was trying to convey a silent message? Because I had no idea what she was trying to say.

Angela lead us down one of the many dirt paths that swerved through the foliage, transforming the place into a complex labyrinth. As she inadvertently brought us through one fork and another, it occurred to me that I might not have actually explored the entire island. The way Cara and I had wandered around, we could have easily missed whole sections-despite our feeble attempts at thoroughness.

I caught Cara’s gaze again. She gave me an even more pointed stare with eyes wide enough, now, that her irises floated oddly within the vast white.

“What?” I mouthed, not sure whether to be concerned or annoyed.

Cara tilted her head in Angela’s direction.

I turned from Angela to Cara, utterly perplexed. What was she getting at? All Angela was doing was striding along the paths, and, apparently, thoroughly enjoying the scenery. Personally, Sofie didn’t find palm trees and all the various other plant life all that fascinating-but it wasn’t anything to hold against her.

When I turned back to Cara, Cara had her finger to her lips.

“What?!” I mouthed again. Whatever message Cara was trying to tell me, I was no closer to understanding it then when she had stared at me.

Irritated, Cara shook her head in defeat.

Okay . . .

Angela stopped abruptly, and I almost crashed into her.

“Um . . . exactly how are we getting back?” I questioned.

Angela waved towards some foliage. “You’ll find this plant can be very useful.”

Cara and I exchanged incredulous looks.

However, Angela just smiled, apparently oblivious to our doubt, and picked up a piece of what looked like a wrongly-colored fern. It was long and shimmering green with blue and red splotches down the center, speckled with silver for a finishing touch. A perfectly round, brown seed hung from the end-which was a bit confusing, since normal ferns don’t even grow seeds.

I blinked stupidly. What was it?

“It’s the doprava aliscent,” Angela said, as if reading the question off my mind. “But most people call it the Peacock Fern.”

I could see why. It really did look like a peacock feather-as if someone had tugged it off the bird and somehow convinced it to grow. However, while this was all fairly fascinating, I couldn’t see how random knowledge of tropical plant life would get me home.

Not that I was in much of a rush, of course. I still had no idea what to say to my parents. Or, for that matter, what they would say to me. What do you say to someone who just broke rules shamelessly, indirectly blew up the attic door, and then ran away to an island who-knows-where?

Waves of pure dread washed over me as often as the real ocean slid on and off the shore.

At Cara and I’s silence, Angela finally spoke again. “They’re magic,” she explained pointedly. “The seeds create a portal in the ground for a few seconds when you touch them.”

Oh. That made more sense.

And yet . . . absolutely none. A temporary portal in the ground? What would it even look like? I mean, the fireplace portal had just been a hole-but they couldn’t all look like that, could they?

I guess I would just have to find out.

 

Chapter Twenty-Four

But Angela didn’t seem daunted by Cara’s doubt. “It would be incredibly difficult to convince the world,” she explained. “I don’t think they would trust my sanity. Imagine bringing people here-‘Just jump down the dark, foreboding hole, I promise you’ll be fine’…I don’t know how well that would work.”

Although I recognized the truth in this, I felt more and more indignant as I thought about it. How many people had lived and died, never knowing the amazing secrets nobody had bothered to share? And why they didn’t? Because they were scared-scared of what people might think of them, and too comfortable on their private island to find better ways of traveling there. And my parents-my parents were some of them!

And they never even told me.

At this thought, I gripped the rock I was sitting on a bit more fiercely.

Angela must have noticed, because she spoke again. “It is more complicated than just that, though.”

I glanced up from my glare at the ocean. “How?”

Angela sighed. “People,” she muttered pensively, shaking her head. “So indecisive and impossible. They wish they could magically change things in life, or escape to another dimension, but when they find out they can…”

“What?” Cara prodded impatiently.

“They refuse to believe it,” Angela announced bluntly. “For years and years people have believed they’ve ‘disproven’ magic, and they’re not going to admit they-and all the people they admire and respect-were wrong.

“So to them it doesn’t matter how much evidence there is for or against anything we say, it’s all wrong.”

“So you just gave up?” Cara demanded.

“No,” Angela replied. “Not yet. That’s really the ultimate goal of the CDA, for the Mutiverse’s existence to be common knowledge. However, for now we’re just working on the portal issue.”

Angela looked me straight in the eye, and for a second I wondered if she was trying to read my mind or something. Then she stared at Cara the same way, and told us solemnly, “So I think you’ll understand if, for now, I ask you not to tell anyone what you’ve seen?”

Cara nodded slowly, seeming excited to be let in on the secret but still a tad wary.

I hesitated. I didn’t want to keep this to myself. Something very large had welled up inside me and shouted incessantly at the unfairness. But, then again, Angela had a point-and even if she didn’t-she had been really nice to Cara and I, and I could only return the favor.

I opened my mouth to say “I understand”, but the words got stuck in my tongue and somehow morphed into nothingness.

It seemed pure insanity to me to think of how this place existed and I believed it true, but even more incredible to think I could leave and simply pretend it didn’t exist. How impossible…how frustrating…how-well, how in sync with my parents’ plans to keep it hidden.

Locked up and protected, safely out of prying hands. Like the basement. Like the attic.

“But-” I stuttered, unable to hold back, “We can come back, right?”

Angela stared at me with a curious smile. After a brief pause, she said, “You have my permission. But after the scare you’ve caused your parents, I think you should talk to them first.”

I nodded slowly.

Then another flood of questions re-entered my brain. The scene of my dad and Autumn flashed vividly before my eyes, as well as the cold sneering of the quickly decided Eric.

“Angela,” I said questioningly. They thick layer of suspicion coating my tone surprised even me.

“Yes?”

I realized Angela likely had no idea who Autumn was, so I refrained from asking the pressing questions about her that tantalized my tongue. However, I knew she must be full of information on Eric.

“What was Eric saying about us infiltrating and stuff? He could tell we didn’t get in-um, that place-on purpose, right?”

Something disturbingly steely and sad at the same time stole over Angela’s expression for a split second, but a second later anything cold had melted away. “There’s a rival orginization trying to shut us down,” she said finally. “With horrible, really awful people. They’re trying to get the magical population-I mean, the people who already live here-out of the way so they can have the Multiverse for themselves, and with our opposition to this is easier with the CDA out of the picture.

“Eric’s really angry about it. I’m sorry if he took a bit of that out on you.”

Autumn flashed to mind, with her unnerving knowledge of my life and impeccable sense of secrecy. Was she part of that organization? Could you even be at her age?

“He thought we were part of it?” I asked incredulously, glancing at Cara.

Angela smiled at the ludicrous idea. A satisfied look seemed to steal over her face for a moment, but as quickly as it came, it was gone. “Now,” she said, “You’ve got to get home-and Sofie, you’ve got to explain everything to your parents.”

I nodded away her pointed, reproachful glance, but inside I was full of dread. How could I possibly make up with my parents anytime soon, after I’d broken their number one rule? And not only that, but several times? I might as well have spray painted “I don’t care what you say” in neon, glow-in-the-dark letters all over the house.

Besides, what could I even say? “I’m sorry I broke your rules and made you nervous, but if I went back I’d probably do it over the same way, no offense.” Ya, that would go over well…NOT.

This wasn’t good.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Leading us out of the underground hideout and to a few good sitting rocks by the ocean, the woman told us to sit down. “First of all,” she began, “I’m Angela Morrison. I-”

Angela stopped abruptly and peered curiously at me.

“What?” I asked, concerned.

“Nothing,” she said quickly, “you just look something like two friends of mine. Do you know an Emily and John Berlin, by any chance?”

“Um, yes,” I said, confused. “They’re my parents.”

The letters CDA-in the attic and basement, and on the rug in the underground room-flashed to mind. So my parents must have known about the island and everything.

And now Angela knew my parents’ names. How, exactly, did these things connect??

Now Angela’s expression lit up brilliantly. “Oh! So you’re Sofie!” She held out a hand and gently shook mine, seeming even more interested in the two of us. Or, rather, in me.

“How do you know Sofie?” Cara asked. I couldn’t tell if it was warily or with curiosity.

“I work with her parents,” Angela explained brightly. She turned to me again. “They’ve told you about their job before, haven’t they?” she inquired.

I opened my mouth, instinctively about to say yes. But something stopped me. The hidden basement and attic, the letters CDA, the strange, secretive lives my parents lived . . . my tongue froze within my mouth. Did I really know anything about their jobs?

Frowning slightly at my own stupidity, I said in an unusually small tone, “I don’t think so.”

Cara glanced at me. “What are you talking about? You said-”

“I think,” I interrupted, in a slightly less small voice, “I think I was wrong.”

Seeing my own struggle being played out in my expression, Cara closed her mouth.

Angela shook her head, looking sorry. “I tried to tell them it would be better to tell you sooner. But, nevermind. There’s nothing we can do now.”

I smiled faintly. I was really beginning to like Angela.

“So?” Cara prompted impatiently. “What are Sofie’s parents really up to?”

“They work for an orginazation called the CDA-which, I’m sure, you’ve figured out already. But you might not know that it stands for the Committee for the Defense of (highly secure) Areas.”

“What-what do you mean?” Cara asked, speaking my thoughts exactly. That is, a clearer version of the thousand questions that had just come up in my brain.

“I mean, we’re some of the very select groups of people who work hard for the protection of this planet. Because this isn’t Earth that we’re on here. In fact, we’re in another Universe. And-” she continued, before I could ask any more questions-“to be technical, this is actually a Multiverse. It has more than one planet that can hold life.”

I blinked.

Cara looked about to laugh.

There was the long, awkward silence that has to follow a completely drastic, pivotal statement like that. After all, nobody has ever said something completely crazy and had everyone they were talking to simply nod their heads in agreement.

However, to my own surprise, the majority of my being could believe it. Not that I did, really, becuase it was pretty insane. But I felt completely capable of going along with the idea of two universes-fully able to comprehend and accept the fact that I was standing on a diffrent, uncharted planet.

And it startled me.

Finally, Angela spoke again. “I know it technically doesn’t make sense . . .”

It didn’t, did it? So why was I so close to believing it? Again, I got caught on the fireplace incident . . . if it wasn’t a portal, then what did happen?

“I just have one question,” Cara said, a questioning glint her eye. This statement caught me off guard. Angela just stated there were two universes, and she says she only has one question???

“If this is true,” Cara said slowly, “why haven’t you told anyone?”

A valid point.

Why hadn’t this been brodcasted to the world? News this big would sweep the nation in a matter of seconds. The news channels would be working on overdrive. Millions and millions of interviews would be made with Angela and my parents, and thousands of articles and facebook posts would excalim at how nobody, nobody, had ever seen this coming. They would be some of the most famous people alive. The ones who discovered the Multiverse, Emily and John Berlin and Angela Morrison. They would be living legends . . . like the place they discovered.

So why not? What was there to lose?

I caught Angela’s gaze, raising my eyebrows.

What hadn’t she told us?

 

 

Chapter Twenty Three

“We weren’t trying to break in,” Cara told the man, surprisingly calm.

“We both know how many attempts to break into our headquarters there has been,” the man snapped. “You’re obviously too young to be part of the CDA. How do you explain yourselves?”

“I don’t think that’s your business,” Cara announced quietly, crossing her arms defiantly.

The man seemed slightly taken aback, as if he wasn’t used to not being immediately obeyed. “I hold one of the most powerful positions in the CDA,” he said finally. “You’re on our property. I think I have the right to ask you what you’re doing here.”

There was something so cold, so relentlessly forcefull in the mans disposition that I couldn’t help but think he should definitely try for the bad guy in a movie sometime. But as it was, I felt something dangerous lurked behind the man’s cold expression. There was one thought running through my mind-that is, one controlling movement that cancelled out all the rest-and that was the get away. Something told me it would have been better to stay on the island without knowledge of this place.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, trying hard to sound like I wasn’t extremely distrustful of him, “I didn’t mean to come down here-we didn’t, I mean.” I grabbed Cara’s wrist to pull her towards the exit-at least, where the exit used to be. “We didn’t mean to-um-disturb you. If you can just tell us how to get out of here, I promise we won’t come back.”

Cara looked horrified at the idea.

I shot her a dirty look, trying to convince her to go along without saying anything.

But the man didn’t move. He kept watching us with his fierce , searching gaze as though a sharp enough glare would reveal our thoughts.

Once again, I wondered where on earth I was and what kind of ultra-protective club I had just barged into without permission. My head spun. Did they know it was Cara who broke the wall/door thing…?

Just then the pool room door opened. A small wave of warm, chlorine-filled air wafted into the refreshingly cool room as a tall woman stepped out. She wasn’t in a bathsuit, but her dark, dripping bun revealed she had just changed out of it.

“That’s the lady from the hot tub,” Cara whispered to me.

I watched her curiously as she looked from Cara and I’s scared faces to the man blocking the door. When she turned to me, I realized she must be at least forty, but still seemed very fit and athletic.

“What’s going on here?” She asked the man blocking our exit.

“They broke in,” he replied gruffly. “This was there attempt of finally infiltrating our headquarters-two little girls by themselves.” His tight frown softened, as he thought it funny.

“We are not little!” Cara whispered indignantly into my ear. “The nerve!”

I almost winced at the loudness so close to me eardrum.

However, I was less annoyed at him calling us little and more intrigued at what he was getting at. “Finally infiltrate our headquarters…their attempt…”…I was beginning to think this wasn’t some overprotective club.

The lady shook her head in disbelief. “Honestly, Eric, you need to stop being so paranoid all the time,” she said to the man.

Leaning closer to say things I couldn’t hear, the woman convinced Eric to go away. He eyed them suspiciously as he left, but nonetheless disappeared into one of the doors Cara hadn’t opened and didn’t return.

She sighed and turned to us. “I’m sorry, girls,” she apologized kindly. “Eric isn’t the most secure person in the world, it comes out on other people a lot…but I can explain everything.”

i opened my mouth to speak, but she read my mind and beat me to it. “And get you back home. I’m really sorry, I don’t know how you got caught up in this mess.”

For the first time since this morning (which felt like years ago) I breathed freely again. Even though I just met the woman, the warm glow in her brown-black eyes and the amicable tone in her voice instantly put me at ease.

We were going back home…we wouldn’t starve on a remote island…

Now all there was to worry about was how to explain everything to my parents…my pulse quickened again. If only there was a way I could picture of that going well…

Chapter Twenty-Two

Cara’s eyes widened. “You’re right! Do you think it’s your parents?”

I felt weird at those words. It made me scared and sick feeling, but I tried to convince myself with every ounce of my brain that I wasn’t feeling like that at all-I shouldn’t not trust my parents at a few unnerving discoveries . . .

Then I realized that the idea of it being them was ridiculous anyway. They couldn’t have gotten here before us, cleaned up the whole island for no apparent reason, and then avoided us when we toured the paths. It didn’t make sense.

I shook my head. “No, I don’t think it was them.”

“Autumn, then?” Cara suggested.

“No-it has to be more than one person, and people who have been here a while.”

“Then who . . .”

We glanced around, half expecting someone to jump out and seize us or something scary like that.

However, nobody did. And there was no giveaway evidence, either, like footsteps, or giant plant leaves rustling, or eyes peering at us from behind a thick palm tree. The only sound was the waves lapping against the sand and the wind rushing past our ears.

I sat down hard on a nearby rock. “This is creepy. It doesn’t even make sense-”

The rock abruptly slid forward, cutting me off in the middle of my sentence. Somehow it was a smooth motion, without the rock even rolling as it carried me a few feet away from Cara.

“Whoa!” Cara called behind me.

I whipped around, jumping to my feet.

Behind the rock, a steel staircase led into a dark tunnel. No way.

I’d just discovered another secret passage.

“I guess that’s where the other people are,” Cara observed.

Then I realized something. “Although, that might not be such a bad thing.”

Cara looked curious. Then she lit up with realization as well. “That’s true! I bet they’ll help us get back home…” she glanced at me. “That is, if you want to go home…”

“No, I do,” I assured her. “I’d rather face my parents than die on a island, believe me.”

Invigorated by this new hope of survivial, I practically flew down the stairs, eagerly searching for any signs of living human beings. My sandy feet tracked bits of yellow-white specks on the perfectly clean steps-I thought for a second about trying to get it off but decided finding people was the higher priority.

However, at the end of the tunnel was a solid, off-white wall with a light bulb protruding from the middle. “What the-” I muttered, confused.

Cara peered at it from over my shoulder. “It can’t be just a wall,” she concluded incredulously.

“Well, I guess it can,” I replied, waving a hand in its direction a tad forcefully. After all, this wasn’t some Secret-Passage Landia where we could just tap the wall three times, spin around and clap our hands and it would swing open like an ordinary door. There weren’t even any hinges or anything-it couldn’t be anything but the hope-crushing wall it was.

“Oh, come on, who would bother build a staircase on some remote island unless it led to something?” Cara pointed out to me, a little testily. If I wasn’t feeling all my excitement shatter, I probably wouldn’t have blamed her for getting annoyed at my constant pessimistic attitude. But I was, and I was in no mood for agreeing with her-or anyone, for that matter.

“Some jerk might have,” I replied bitterly.

Cara frowned. Slipping past me, she examined the wall carefully. The oddly placed light flickered slightly every once and a while. I watched my shadow darken and lighten again as I attempted to come up with some plan to get food or water or escape the island. Nothing came to me except writing SOS in the sand for helicopters, but even that was likely to fail since the beach didn’t stretch long enough to write letters someone way up could read. Besides, would any aircraft even come over this way? So far I hadn’t heard any fly by, and the island was too small for it to be very likely that one would fly close enough-wherever it might be going.

I frowned, extremely discouraged.

A piercing noise shattered my dismal thoughts. I jumped back, startled.

Cara glanced back at me, a guilty, sheepish expression on her slightly cut face.

Behind her, the wall had broken into a million pieces like glass and scattered across the floor. By some miracle, the light bulb was still on, but it flickered more fiercely than before.

“Woops,” Cara said, peering at the various chunks of wall apprehensively.

Then we saw what was behind the wall. It wasn’t just a bunch of dirt and plant roots like I expected. Instead, before us was the entrance to what looked like some sort of club hangout. The room was rather round, with several numbered doors branching out of it. A couple bean bag chairs, all shades of blue, sat in their deformed heaps in a corner, Xbox remotes resting comfortably on top. My eyes shifted to the huge, curved TV facing the bean bag chairs. It hadn’t been turned off, and appeared to be on one of those dark killing games I prefered not to play. Next to the TV, a several square containers held video games and movies piled up inside them so not another single one could fit.

In another corner was a snack bar, heaped with piles of popcorn, potato chips, candy bars, pretzels, fruit, doughnuts, cinnamon rolls, and even a tiny refrigerator full of little ice cream containers showed its food invitingly. Next to it a bookshelf rose even above the mammoth TV, full to bursting with novels of every kind.

Cara and I stepped inside, gaping at everything.

“Wow,” Cara breathed.

“What is this place?” I asked, feeling it was a rhetorical question under the circumstances but wanting an answer anyway.

I smiled, even though we still hadn’t found anybody. We had discovered shelter, and food-while it was mostly junk food, it was still sustenance and far better than nothing.

And the place just felt so warm and inviting.

Decorated in that calming beach-theme I always wished my room could have, it corresponded with its scenic location. A sandy off-white rug brushed the remaining bits sand bits off my feet. Paintings and pictures of starfish, seashells, and the ocean hung artfully on the walls. Wall stickers of palm trees and other tropical plants I recognized from my twig-hunt hike crept up the walls, and living replicas sprouted from pots scattered in random clumps around the room and over the bookcase.

“Nice find, Sofie,” Cara said to me, eyes lighting up brilliantly with excitement. “Let’s see what’s behind the other doors!”

Cara rushed towards one, but something held me back.”I think someone’s in here, Cara,” I said, glancing at the still-on television.

Cara looked perplexed and incredulous. “I know. Didn’t you want to find people?”

“Ya, but-” I had the odd feeling whoever might be down here wasn’t going to be too thrilled we’d broken into their secret hideout-or whatever this was supposed to be. After all, it was hidden under a rock and protected by a solid (well, now destroyed) wall! What more evidence did we need?

Cara frowned briefly, shrugged, then resumed her door-opening expedition.

The first door (marked 5A) swung open, and Cara exclaimed gleefully, “No way! And indoor pool with a waterslide! And, wait-is that a-and a hot tub!” She reluctantly closed the door to move to the next one.

“Someone’s going to be behind one of those, you know,” I warned, disapprovingly walking over to Cara.

“Of course,” Cara said, waving a hand with no concern whatsoever. “Like there wouldn’t be anyone in the pool. I saw a few people swimming laps, and one girl in the hot tub.”

I relaxed a bit at the people’s apparent nonchalance at Cara’s visit, but still felt a bit worried.

The next few doors were all meeting rooms. They, like the main room, seemed extremely cozy, unlike the stiff office-style rooms I’d seen on the attic computer with Autumn.

“Ugh, another boring one,” Cara groaned. “Next door!”

“C’mon, Cara, let’s not barge into all them, ok?” I requested unavailingly.

“There’s only two more,” Cara said.

I sighed, giving up, and turned back to the main room. To my surprise, the entrance wall thing had somehow reassembled into a solid object blocking our exit. I apprehensively scanned the room for any key out or something, and something intriguing caught my eye.

On the rug were the same letters I’d seen in the attic and basement of my house-CDA.

My heart beat fast. Where was I?

“Well, looks like the little infiltrators find themselves stuck,” a cold, mocking voice mused. My head head jerked up from looking at the rug to where the entrance was, where now a man stood with his arms crossed and a wide, peircing eyes contrasting oddly with a horrible, smug smile.

I jumped back, startled.

Chapter Twenty-One

“I don’t know where we are! I don’t jump down holes in my free time!” I replied.

Cara grinned. “That sounds more like something I would do.” Then she glanced around. “We gotta find land somewhere!”

“There!” I said, pointing to cute little island conventently popping out of the ocean next to us. Palm trees and various other tropical plants I didn’t recognize (I live in Massachusetts, what can I say?) grew out of it, and small, sandy beaches led up to them. The almost white sand was littered with oddly colored seashells and sparkled a bit, reflecting the sun’s warm light.

Of all the places Cara and I could randomly show up at, it was incredible that the one we ended up falling in was some tropical paradise. I swam eagerly to shore.

A few minutes later (turns out the island was a tad farther away than I’d surmised) I reached the sandy shore.

And it was perfect there. No rocks cutting my feet, no seaweed wrapping around my ankles, and no cold ocean breeze making me shiver. The floor was only memory-foam like sand with a few scattered, brilliantly colored seashells. The water was almost perfectly clear, a beautiful crystal blue that stretched on farther than the eye could see with no signs of murkiness. And the breeze that blew a few strands of half-dried hairs off my back could almost be described as warm.

“I wonder which ocean this is,” I wondered aloud to Cara, awestruck as I stepped onto the warm, dry sand out of the water.

Cara shrugged as she examined a particularly colorful seashell. “Could be the Pasific.”

I frowned. “I don’t think it looks like this. I’ve seen a few pictures, and it seems pretty rocky.”

“Well, have you ever been there?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, but-”

“Then how would we know for sure?”

Now I shrugged. She had a valid point. “We wouldn’t. This just seems . . . I don’t know . . . too perfect.”

I spun slowly in a circle, taking in everything. The ocean stretched on without any signs of more land, glistening playfully. The cool blue water was very different from the murky green-blue ocean where I lived. However, it wasn’t exactly like the tropical ocean views I’d seen pictures of, either. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something was different.

“Cara, what are we supposed to do now?!” I asked, suddenly panicking.

I had no idea what to do at this point. I mean, I was stuck on an island who knows where without food or water or any way of getting off. I didn’t even know how I got here, for crying out loud! So how could I possibly get back to my house?

I absentmindedly kicked some sand, frustrated.

“Build a shelter, I guess,” she suggested, tossing the sea shell in her hand aside. It landed with a little plunk back in the water.

“But we have to get off of here, not live here!” I protested, even though I saw her logic.

“Then what do you suggest we do? We’re stuck on an island and there’s no way we can make something to get out of here before nightfall!”

I drew back, surprised. I had never heard Cara so distraught and urgent before. She actually seemed a bit angry at me. “Ok,” I said meekly. “You’re right. Let’s go make a lean-to or something.”

So, we searched the island for fallen trees and sticks lying on the ground. But, to my amazement, there were none. Like the beach, the rainforest-like interior of the island was “perfect”. Scenic paths snaked through the palm trees, exotic flowers and scattered underbrush. Short, thickly grown grass sprouted in empty places. Sunlight peeked in through the tree leaves, dotting the ground with golden circles. And nothing was lying around on the ground-trash, branches, anything!

If I wasn’t desperately in need of shelter, I would be completely awestruck.

After spending a couple hours hiking through the amazing island, enjoying the sights and slacking off on my search meticulously scanning my harsh surroundings for any means of building shelter, I was positive Cara and I had searched every little nook in the island. And for nothing.

At this point, I was beginning to feel extremely uneasy. Everything on the island was such incredible perfection, there was no way we had just discovered it…

“Cara,” I said, glancing around cautiously as I spoke, “I don’t think we’re alone on this island.”

 

Chapter Twenty

I screamed, terrified, as the world seemed to turn into some pitch black dimension where terror and doom are tangible things and help and hope are long gone. (Except not too long, because I’d only been falling for a few seconds).

I bounced from wall to wall, scraping limbs and unquestionably covering them in rugburns.

I wondered how long it would take before my skin ripped of completely. However, for some reason, I didn’t feel like doing the math.

Besides, I was slightly more concerned with where I was going. Would I abruptly hit the bottom and die from impact? Was the fireplace really an old well and I would fall into water at the bottom, eventually drowning? Or would I just keep falling until I fell beyond the Earth’s crust into the mantle . . .(if that was even possible)?

My chances of survival were slim.

There was only one thing I could think of that might actually save me: a miracle.

So I prayed for one. I prayed that I’d have a chance to accomplish something in life. I prayed that Cara would, too. And I thought about praying for Autumn to fall down too, but I decided my possibly last prayer shouldn’t be so short-sighted and prayed for her instead.

And as scared as I’ve been of them lately, talked to God about my parents. For one, that they wouldn’t be too miserable if I died (which was highly likely). For another, that they would finally turn to God. I’d become saved from Cara telling me the good news, but my parents had never made the switch. When I talked to them about it they just seemed disappointed in me and incredulous.

I was so distracted by all this that it took me a second to realize I couldn’t find the walls. I wasn’t scraping  against them anymore, just plummeting through empty space.

A flash of light blinded me.

The next thing I knew, I landed with a loud smack on what felt like water and slowly sunk under.

So the well theory appeared to be correct.

Then I was struck by the most intense case of déjè vo  I’d ever felt. But how could this possibly feel familiar?

The water felt-odd. Not because it was disgusting, like I was expecting it to be. Or incredibly cold or anything.

It was cool, but not cold-on the contrary, it was almost warm and very refreshing. It tasted like salt, mostly, but it had a hint of smooth and wonderful chocolate and caramel that would have made my mouth water if it wasn’t already full of water.

I moved my limbs around to swim up, and I was struck by how silky it felt (especially in comparison to my belly flop in). In fact, it was so creamy and silky to the point of being almost soft!

I opened my eyes in surprise and, somehow, remembrance. To my surprise, I could see everything crystal clear, and it wasn’t pitch black anymore.

But it got even crazier. I found with extreme bewilderment that we weren’t in a well or a creepy hole.

Looking around, I saw a sandy bottom with seaweed floating lazily out of it, colorful fish swimming about, a few glistening rocks, beams of dazzling sunlight piercing through the water, and Cara treading water at the surface.

We were in the ocean.

I gasped and rushed the surface. Yes! Yes! We were alive! It was a miracle!!!

I stared at Cara, jaw dropped.

“She pushed me!” Cara cried indignantly. “Autumn pushed me! She tried to kill me! I trusted a murderer, Sofie. A murderer! We could have been dead by now!”

“But we’re alive!” I pointed out, still extremely happy. As despicable as Autumn had been, I couldn’t bring myself to be mad at her right now.

Cara and I survived! It was a miracle! It was-what was it, actually? How did we end up in the ocean?

It was now that the same mysterious question registered in Cara’s brain.

“Sofie-where are we?”