A Walk Through a Window by KC Dyer

Author:KC Dyer [Dyer, KC]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-0-307-37452-3
Publisher: Doubleday Canada
Published: 2009-03-03T05:00:00+00:00

There may not have been a sign of any storm, but the crazy fog was back. It rolled up over their feet before Darby and Gabriel had even stepped across the windowsill and jumped to the floor below.

By some miracle, Darby made a perfect landing on both feet, into what turned out to be a big puddle of fog-shrouded water. Gabe splashed down beside her and she had one glimpse of his water-spattered grin before the fog swallowed him up.

“Remember,” he began, his voice still right beside her ear, but then he was gone.

“Remember what?” she bellowed into the fog, but the mist swirled and circled and filled her mouth and eyes and ears with a roar that sounded like wind and water and smelled like salt.

At least it wasn’t dark. It wasn’t dark, but it was wet. Wet and cold. A cold Darby recognized. It wrapped around her like a blanket, but without any warmth or comfort. She took a step forward and felt her feet splash again, and then the floor tipped straight sideways and she flew through the air with a yell.

She found herself jammed into a corner with a pile of loose rope and bits of rusted iron and netting. Light shone in from around a small hole in the wooden wall through which a rope was dangling. It was also through this hole that much of the water appeared to be flowing. The only difference Darby could see between the wide planks of the floor and the wall was that the wall was more splintery. But only a bit. Her feet were flung over her head in a position her gym teacher would probably have said was good for her flexibility. But at the time, it mostly hurt.

She didn’t really have time to endure the pain, though, as the floor tipped again, this time the other way. Darby managed to turn herself right way up, but she still slid along, tangled in nets and feeling every splinter from the rough floorboards on her bare shins. A rope hanging loose from the rafters slapped her in the face and she grabbed it and clung on.

This turned out to be a good kind of accident, because when Darby looked up, she could see the rope hung from some kind of cleat in the low wooden ceiling. It meant she could plant her feet and hold on without slipping too much as the floor pitched from side to side.

Why was the floor pitching, anyway? And why was she alone, dangling from the rope, in some closed-up wooden room that looked nothing like the little broken-down chapel behind the old blue house? She didn’t have a clue. What she did know was that, once again, Gabe had disappeared.

Darby wasn’t sure how long she spent dangling and pitching, but it was long enough to leave her arms very tired. It was also long enough to figure out a few things, only one of which was really important for the moment.

This was no hallucination.

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