What if Narnia's wardrobe was in a psych unit?
Agatha Stone is not the chosen one--she's the last one. She's thirteen, mentally ill, and whiny, but she's all that's left.
She's not what they were expecting, but she's all they have. Maybe with the...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Agatha, wake up," Jonah whispers against my ear.
There's apprehension in his voice and tension in the arms wrapped tightly around me. I bury my face against his shoulder. If he's frightened, then whatever is out there must be terrifying.
He gently jostles me until I lift my head. As soon as he feels me shift my weight, he releases his grip and lowers me to the water. He won't take his eyes off the horizon. "Be very quiet. We're being watched." His eyes are shifting as if he's still searching for the danger.
He must be able to sense it or something because when I look around, everything's fine. I want to ask him what he's so scared of, but it's probably best to let him handle it. Plus, I don't want to distract him or get in his way. I wish he'd lie to me and tell me everything is fine.
He's cautiously skulking around like a cat. I'm trying to match his movements, but I'm too awkward and clumsy. When he finds what he's looking for, his eyes grow so wide they take up most of his face. He doesn't even acknowledge me when he forcefully clamps his big hand on my shoulder and pushes me forward at a fast clip.
We're practically running. Jonah easily maneuvers over the water, but I'm tripping with every spongy step. His painful grip is the only thing keeping me on my feet.
I'm trapped by the openness. There is nothing as far as the eye can see. The shore disappeared ages ago and there's nowhere to run. We're alone in the middle of the ocean, defenseless. Something brushes the side of my thigh and I jump, then trip. Jonah catches me, and we keep moving without losing a step. I think my heart has stopped, but when the thing hits my thigh again, my heart nearly bursts out of my chest. I jump again and twist in the air. I need to know what's touching me.
Jonah doesn't stop as I examine my legs and find nothing. Could we be under attack by an invisible creature? I want off this stupid ocean. I want to run, but there's nowhere to go, and that thing just touched my leg again! This time I'm ready for it. I quickly look down and discover my hand.
I'm baffled for a minute until I realize that I'm so frightened, my hand has gone numb. It's balled in a fist and has lost all feeling. When I touch it against my leg, my thigh registers the contact but my hand feels nothing. I can't open my fist or move my arm. I don't know what's going on, but it's spreading to my legs. It's in my face too, a tingling sensation that hurts. Just keep moving. There is nothing else to do. I don't know if someone can die of fright, but I may find out.
Jonah increases our pace. I trip again and painfully torque my knee. The pain registers to my consciousness, but it's irrelevant as Jonah propels me forward. There is nothing but the pounding of blood in my ears. We're going to die out here.
"Run!" he yells.
I'm blindly running on a blank canvass. I don't even know what I'm running from. I freeze in my tracks when the massive serpentine back of something enormous breaks the water to my left. Terrifyingly large, pointy gray fins pinwheel through the water like a saw blade. I run for my life.
