Make Room for Me

JAMES

Shit, shit, shit.

I look around, stupidly hunching over as if any second now, Helena will swoop down out of the sky like the Wicked Witch of the West and snatch me up. But the sky is just as bland and empty as the landscape around me.

Movement to my left has me spinning around, fear ratcheting up my heartbeat to epic speeds. But it’s not Helena, or any other kind of witch. It’s a guy.

He’s walking toward me, hands in his pockets, head tucked down, shaggy hair falling in front of his face. About ten feet away I recognize him. Marcus.

“James.” His voice slithers into my mind where it doesn’t belong. What’s extra weird is that his mouth moves when he speaks - except I can’t hear his words with my ears, only with my mind.

“What is this place? And what are we doing here?” I swear I feel the sound move through my throat, but I can’t hear my own voice - not even in my head. To say it’s freaky would be a wild understatement.