By Rusty Leverett

 What kind of club was this? What kind of people had I gotten myself mixed up with? From beneath lowered lashes, I checked out the faces in the room, seeing greed, fear, and curiosity. A reflection of my face in a mirror took me by surprise, betraying my nerves.

As the newest member of this club, I was required to go where the leader’s finger would land on a spinning globe. I didn’t know the mode of travel or the time involved.

The globe was spun into motion, the colors a blur. I wasn’t the only one holding my breath. I watched the leader’s finger jab down, bringing the globe to an abrupt halt.

I blinked, finding myself not in the leader’s house, but in the cold ocean. I swallowed a mouthful of saltwater, coughing and gagging, and flailed my arms to keep my head above water. Where? How?

Before I could string two thoughts together, rough hands grabbed at me and pulled me aboard a lifeboat.  Sitting up, I noticed bubbles breaking the surface as other lifeboats drifted nearby. People were being pulled from the water into lifeboats, even as others were being pulled beneath the waves by the suction of a sinking ship.

As I took in my surroundings, my confusion cleared, and I realized the leader’s finger had come down on an ocean. Instead of a normal mode of travel, I had been transported through space, and if it hadn’t been for the sinking ship, I would have dropped into a watery grave.

We jostled to make room for another survivor, when I felt myself going overboard. I landed on my butt back in the club, soaked to the skin.