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Okay, so this looks bad.
Okay, so bad’s maybe misleading. A nice stretch of beach bathed in moonlight is probably a step up from a flooded parking garage in Jersey for most people. Except I’m supposed to be in a flooded parking garage in Jersey, because I’m supposed to be going to get Mrs. Stafford her meds. Which means the sudden Hawaii vacation is sort of a problem.
I blink saltwater out of my eyes, ignoring the sting as I try to refocus. I’m still thigh deep in the ocean, solid cement stairs having given away to soft, mushy sand, and I have to shake off a few slimy strands of seaweed as I step forward. At first it’s like traveling in slow motion. My dress drags in the water, pulling me back, but I fight past the resistance until my waterlogged shoes hit bone-dry sand. Feeling over my shoulder, I do a quick check of my quiver before I move so much as another inch, making sure everything made the trip with me. Satisfied the inventory checks out, I pull out an arrow and nock it in my bow.
Because come on. I’m alone and I have no idea where the hell I am. I’m not taking any chances, even if the beach does look totally deserted. I turn around to look back out at the ocean, but it’s more of the same—just an inky black abyss with the moon reflected in waves I hear more than see.
Is this the Savage Land? Because it feels pretty safe to say it isn’t Jersey. Even if the whole building washed away where I stood, the water wouldn’t be this warm, and there’d be—people. Not a beach that’s wrapped around a dense looking jungle.
Except, even if it is the Savage Land, I have no way of knowing short of stumbling across the welcome sign, because that’s one thing I never got to cross off the superhero bucket list. (Wait, does the Savage Land even have a welcome sign? That’s—Probably not important, Kate.)
Great. Maybe I should be focusing less on where I am and more on how I got here. Magic? It’s totally magic. Some kind of weird teleportation spell. That sounds legit, right? What else could it be? And if it’s magic, then maybe it’s—
“Billy?!”
Crap. Why’d I shout like that? Of course it’s not Billy. He hasn’t done magic in months, why would he—
What was that? A rustling sound. A creepy, jungle-y rustling sound. Something’s coming towards me, and fast. On reflex, I lift my bow and take aim.
Here’s hoping I don’t have to fire.
Okay, so bad’s maybe misleading. A nice stretch of beach bathed in moonlight is probably a step up from a flooded parking garage in Jersey for most people. Except I’m supposed to be in a flooded parking garage in Jersey, because I’m supposed to be going to get Mrs. Stafford her meds. Which means the sudden Hawaii vacation is sort of a problem.
I blink saltwater out of my eyes, ignoring the sting as I try to refocus. I’m still thigh deep in the ocean, solid cement stairs having given away to soft, mushy sand, and I have to shake off a few slimy strands of seaweed as I step forward. At first it’s like traveling in slow motion. My dress drags in the water, pulling me back, but I fight past the resistance until my waterlogged shoes hit bone-dry sand. Feeling over my shoulder, I do a quick check of my quiver before I move so much as another inch, making sure everything made the trip with me. Satisfied the inventory checks out, I pull out an arrow and nock it in my bow.
Because come on. I’m alone and I have no idea where the hell I am. I’m not taking any chances, even if the beach does look totally deserted. I turn around to look back out at the ocean, but it’s more of the same—just an inky black abyss with the moon reflected in waves I hear more than see.
Is this the Savage Land? Because it feels pretty safe to say it isn’t Jersey. Even if the whole building washed away where I stood, the water wouldn’t be this warm, and there’d be—people. Not a beach that’s wrapped around a dense looking jungle.
Except, even if it is the Savage Land, I have no way of knowing short of stumbling across the welcome sign, because that’s one thing I never got to cross off the superhero bucket list. (Wait, does the Savage Land even have a welcome sign? That’s—Probably not important, Kate.)
Great. Maybe I should be focusing less on where I am and more on how I got here. Magic? It’s totally magic. Some kind of weird teleportation spell. That sounds legit, right? What else could it be? And if it’s magic, then maybe it’s—
“Billy?!”
Crap. Why’d I shout like that? Of course it’s not Billy. He hasn’t done magic in months, why would he—
What was that? A rustling sound. A creepy, jungle-y rustling sound. Something’s coming towards me, and fast. On reflex, I lift my bow and take aim.
Here’s hoping I don’t have to fire.