The Atlantis Twins

by M. S. Kaminsky

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Acknowledgments

  Back Cover

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  THE ATLANTIS TWINS

  Copyright © 2017 by M.S. Kaminsky

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system - except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine or newspaper - without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Contact: www.mkaminsky.com

  This is a work of fiction. All the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Acknowledgments

  To my husband, Gerry Beekman. I could not have written this book without you.

  Many thanks to my family and friends for their support. Special gratitude to the kind folks who read the first draft: Sheila Kaminsky, Joyce Thom, Pamela Brunskill and my excellent editor Tracy Seybold. Thanks also to the Greenpoint Writers Group for their feedback on the initial chapters.

  .

  Seventeen-year-old Alysa Grey is certain her twin sister is alive, even though Hawaii Search and Rescue gave up long ago. When she meets Nate, a handsome surfer, he offers her a chance for pre-summer escape.

  Alysa convinces her best friend Charlie to sneak away with her to Hina, where Nate lives with a mysterious group called the Ocean Alliance. But Nate is not who he seems, and Alysa ends up on a dangerous voyage. She discovers that her unusual powers and lost sister are connected to a sinister force determined to destroy her.

  As she uncovers her past, a shocking revelation upends the world she thought she knew. Everything will depend on Alysa embracing her truth, no matter how painful.

  Sign-up for M.S. Kaminsky’s New Releases mailing list to receive a free copy of the prequel novella Alabaster Island. http://www.mskaminsky.com You’ll also receive future discounts and (occasional) updates about the series. Most people like to read The Atlantis Twins before the prequel (titled Alabaster Island), but the order is up to you. :)

  Prologue

  I was running out of oxygen. Seawater pressed against my lips. I was drowning.

  The realization crushed as hard as the tons of stone and coral above me. Lost in an underwater cave system, I swam in the direction I hoped led up to the surface. Dead end. My heart drummed a beat in my skull. Got to get out. Got to get air.

  Which way had we entered? Panic erased thought. My eyes darted in every direction. Up: a ceiling of black rock. Left: a narrow passage between massive coral boulders. Right: leaning towers of coral. Down: death at the bottom of the ocean. Choose! Now!

  My leg scraped against a sharp protrusion. Pain cleared my head. Any direction but down. I swam right. For a moment, the cave widened. Then I found myself in another impossible maze. Worse, a powerful current battered me. Panic returned.

  Sucked in by the rush of water, I got carried through a dark passage. Glimpses of sunlight taunted me. Slender fingers of light shone through openings in the rock above, far too narrow to swim through. I fought for life. My fingers scrabbled at coral as I tried to slow myself down and find an exit.

  I needed to breathe. Pins and needles raced up and down my arms and legs and into my torso. My chest contracted so hard I thought my ribs might crack. But I kept my mouth shut tight, fighting against the crazy urge to breathe anything. Even seawater. My brain began to shut down. Meanwhile, the current rushed me along to an unknown destination.

  * * *

  When I opened my eyes again, I floated on the ocean’s surface. But I had no clue how I got there. My head pulsed with excruciating pain.

  I remembered a cave. I recalled getting tangled in something and panicking. Trying to swim to the surface. Becoming lost. I’d been with my twin sister, Alyx. But something had gone wrong. Something terrible had happened. How long had I been drifting?

  “Alyx?” I called. The sound of my voice scared me. A croaking gasp, like a sea lion snagged on a shark hook. “Alyx?” No answer.

  My eyes closed. I realized I might die, and my eyes snapped open again. It was too easy to slip into nothingness. A seagull flew overhead and cried.

  Raindrops splattered on my forehead, draining from my face into the ocean. Needles of pain jabbed my legs. A snapped bungee cord floated next to me, apparently attached to my waist. I was too tired to check it out. Ocean coral, anemones and oysters must feel like this. Nothing to do but accept.

  When the clouds burned away, the sun blasted down. Water dried from my face, and my skin grew tight and salty like beef jerky. A hungry fish bit my pinkie. I felt an odd, deep pain as I watched the wound miraculously close. What had happened to me?

  Night came again, and I disappeared for a while. I didn’t dream, think, or remember. But at dawn, a throbbing whumpf whumpf whumpf woke me. A boat’s engine. Barely conscious, I got dragged up out of the water and onto a deck.

  My eyes were open, but my vision was blurred, head throbbing. I could only make out colorful shapes and the rising sun. I heard distant male voices.

  “Must have been floating for days…”

  Strong hands gripped my shoulders. “Good, she has the necklace. Can’t believe she’s alive…”

  Stink of cigarettes. A mouth on mine. Putrid air filled my lungs.

  A younger male voice. “Look at her pupils. Brain damage, probably.”

  The pain was too great. My brain went offline again.

  Chapter One

  I swam lengths in the outdoor Olympic-sized pool at the Aquatic Center and tried to clear my head. Today was the four-year anniversary of “the accident,” when my twin sister Alyx went missing and I was rescued. I still couldn’t really remember what the heck had happened.

  People dealt with trauma in different ways. And whatever had happened to me must have been super traumatic, otherwise I’d remember more. That’s what my shrink, Dr. Jergenson, told me. But what did she know? I flipped directions at the pool end and launched off the concrete side, enjoying the water against my body.

  I finished my lap and climbed out. Water dripped from my skin. I flicked drops from my hands to the green-tiled pool deck and began to stretch. For now, I had the entire pool to myself. Coach Davis had let me in early.

  Tonight was the last water polo game of my senior year. We were playing against Central High, our biggest rival. There was a lot at stake. I needed time alone before my team arrived. I thought of Alyx. She’d be proud of our winning streak.

  The sun hung at a low angle in the sky, and my reflection in the pool’s surface caught my eye. I looked down into the clear, blue water. For a moment, I imagined it was Alyx reflected there.

  She stood with her hands on her hips, dark hair, green eyes, body lean and strong in her white and red team swimsuit. The lines of the pool lanes shimmered gently back and forth in the water like long, black snakes. I leaned closer. Suddenly, Alyx stuck her tongue out. I nearly fell in the water.

  Rubbing the water from my eyes, I looked again. Now it was only me reflected in the pool, staring back with my usual anxious expression. Hurrying o
ff the deck, I headed down the steep, concrete steps to the showers.

  * * *

  “Alysa!” Charlie shouted at me as she lobbed the ball to me and backstroked farther down the pool. I swam hard with the ball, swooped it behind me and passed it to Tracy at the last second.

  We had a decent crowd for the girls’ team. Friends and family clustered in the bleachers on a muggy evening. I played hard, ignoring the pangs of anxiety that buzzed in my stomach. I circled around FloAnn, Central’s best player, and into a cluster of defenders. Not a strategy that made sense, but I followed instinct. Sure enough, Tracy got penned in. We made eye contact, and she threw the ball over.

  I swam fast, dodging FloAnn’s elbow, which nearly smashed me in the eye. She pulled every trick she could get away with during a game. Without pause, I headed straight up the center. Only halfway across the pool, with seconds remaining, I launched the ball as hard as I could toward the net. I let out a primal whoop as the ball whipped past the goalie and into the net before the buzzer sounded.

  Game over.

  The crowd went wild. Well, it wasn’t exactly a crowd. Our high school isn’t big, and this was water polo, not the most popular sport, even in Hawaii. But we had at least forty or fifty peeps, and they roared. We’d nailed the final game of the year 8-7 and made a school team record for most wins.

  “Yeah, Alysa! You rock! Kick ass!” Dad hollered. I gave him the peace symbol, but I wished he’d chill. Embarrassing.

  FloAnn scowled, her jaw clenched. I puckered my lips and blew a small kiss. Her face changed from red to mottled red and faded to white, lips pressed in a thin, straight line. As easy and dangerous as teasing a rabid pit bull.

  Water polo was FloAnn’s life. When she wasn’t playing, she watched it or geeked out on Olympic fan pages. I used to respect FloAnn, even if I didn’t like her. At least the girl knew what she wanted. But without even trying, I was better than her. She hated me for that.

  Tracy, our team captain, high-fived me. Sometimes, I sensed that even she felt jealous of me. If she knew that missing my sister drove me to win, to swim faster and stronger, she wouldn’t be envious.

  If you don’t have a twin, you might not get what I mean when I say that losing a twin sister is losing half of yourself. If I’d lost a hand, or some other body part, after a while, life would have gone on like normal. But I live a partial life. When I played, I played for Alyx.

  Our team clustered, arms around each other’s shoulders, then broke. “Knights! Knights! Knights!” we shouted.

  Despite our win, my lingering feeling of unease remained. Maybe it was the full moon, maybe it was just life. Parents descended from the bleachers. Dad and his girlfriend walked toward me, holding hands. My father was dating FloAnn’s mother, May Kusumo, of all people. The horrible situation had lasted much longer than I’d expected.

  FloAnn remained in the water, eyes scrunched shut. Not a good loser. May and Dad headed toward me. I ducked out of the pool deck, pretending not to see them. FloAnn opened her eyes as I passed and shot me spears of hate. I looked away.

  The aquatic center where we played was old. Steep concrete steps led down to the changing rooms. I hesitated at the top, allowing my eyes to adjust from the bright pool lights. As my foot hit the first step, the door burst open behind me.

  “Grey, watch your step,” FloAnn said in a hard voice just as a wet foot snagged my ankles.

  I fell hard. Faceplant would be the technical term. My mouth smashed directly into the edge of the concrete steps at least six feet below me. One minute, I was anticipating a hot shower, the next, my face exploded in an ocean of pain and blood. My front teeth buckled back at a sickening angle, and my lip split open in multiple directions. I tumbled down the rest of the steps and landed in a wet, bloody heap.

  Tracy opened the door. “Oh, my god, what the hell?” she screamed, as I staggered to my feet at the bottom. Pain sliced across my mouth, my hip throbbed, and I must have looked a real mess.

  “She tripped!” FloAnn said.

  To my horror, I felt the healing begin. I had to find somewhere private. Fast. My heart pounded as I ran down the hallway, leaving a trail of blood and pool water. Bypassing the main bathroom, I took a left to a private unisex restroom.

  I surveyed the damage in the dirty, cracked mirror. Four front teeth bent in, gums purple and swollen. I spat a gob of blood into the sink. My mouth was all puffed up. An ugly black bruise surrounded my lips, which oozed blood from several cuts. But as I watched, the damage lessened with every passing second.

  This was the worst injury I’d had since I learned that I had this… gift, if that’s what it was. I healed fast. At first, only bumps, bruises and scratches miraculously disappeared. I’d kind of ignored it; too much to take in. I even thought it was my imagination. Then, one day, I broke my ankle scrambling over rocks at Lonesome Beach. The bone set itself beneath my skin while I held my foot straight. I realized something much bigger was happening.

  This evening, more proof presented itself in the mirror. My wounds healed, but the pain was excruciating. Ten times more painful than the injury. It burned. My blood felt like it had been replaced with boiling water.

  The bruise around my mouth faded from black to purple and the swelling disappeared. My gums tightened and healed. But—and this was a big but—my teeth did not straighten. In under a minute, my face was normal, but my teeth stayed stuck angled back toward my throat. I might have been one of those poor people in a 1930s circus freak show. Panic welled up in my gut. Eating would be impossible. And Daniel would never ask me to the prom.

  I shut my mouth. My lips sunk in over my teeth like I was a hundred years old. I put my hand over my mouth. How would I sneak out of the Aquatic Center? My pocket buzzed. Dad had texted me, wondering where I’d gone.

  I knew what I needed to do, but the thought filled me with dread. Each second that passed made me want to do it even less. If I waited longer, I would lose my nerve. “Do it,” I said. “Stop thinking.” If Alyx were here, that’s what she would say.

  I braced myself, grasped my front teeth with both hands and used my thumbs to force them back toward the mirror. I pushed hard. My muscles shook with effort. Gum tissue tore with a horrible cracking sound as the roots of my front teeth separated from bone.

  I let out a muffled howl of pain. The pain grew worse when my teeth healed themselves, back in their correct position. And then it was over, as if FloAnn never sent me flying down the stairway. That I healed like this was miraculous. I hadn’t realized my full ability. I smiled. If I could heal like this, I bet my twin could as well. Whatever had happened to us, I felt she must be out there, alive somewhere. I was more certain of this now than ever.

  The last twinges of pain were fading when I saw FloAnn and Tracy in the mirror. I guess they’d been watching for a while, because Tracy’s mouth gaped in horror, while FloAnn looked at me, eyes narrowed. My smile faded. FloAnn left. Tracy ran to the toilet and puked. I walked to her and put my hand on her back.

  “Don’t touch me!” she shrieked, her voice echoing in the porcelain. I should have felt offended, but I didn’t care. Not then. I knew everything would change. And it did, but not in the way I thought.

  Chapter Two

  Saturday morning, I woke up and went straight to the mirror on the back of my closet door. I ran my tongue over my teeth and pressed my fingers to my lips. With my dad’s green eyes and Mom’s dark hair and complexion, I didn’t look bad for someone who’d fallen down a flight of stairs the night before. I was totally healed. I high-fived my reflection and imagined it was Alyx high-fiving me back. The illusion was nearly perfect except for the smeared palm print I left on the mirror.

  You’ll be home soon, Alyx. I know it.

  Saying it filled my stomach with a golden glow of happiness. But when I tried to remember the fun we’d had, only scraps came. Bits of memory closer to emotions than events: laughing fits, dyeing Beach Barbie’s blond hair brown. It frustrated me that school came easily.
Yup, I remembered all the boring stuff, but when it came to Alyx, virtually nothing.

  “Morning!” May said as I practically skipped out of my bedroom. Lately she’d been staying over more and more often. The sound of her voice was a major buzz-kill. It reminded me of FloAnn, who sometimes stayed over with her mom.

  “Is FloAnn here?” I asked, afraid to hear the answer.

  “She’s with her dad. Did I show you my masterpiece? Meet Donatella.”

  She presented one of her horrible dolls. I could not believe people on Etsy ordered the creatures she cobbled together. May bought broken vintage dolls, those creepy porcelain things with eyes that opened and shut. Then she restored them, moving body parts from one to another. Frankenbabies, I called them. She’d fixed one that cried when you turned it over, but now it sounded more like a dying pelican. That reminded me… I had better things to do.

  “I’ve gotta feed Alabaster,” I said and hurried out as Dad entered.

  “Watch out! Your gull lunged at May this morning,” Dad warned.

  I smiled. Good for you, Alabaster. Mama’s little girl.

  Outside, Alabaster stared at me from her cage with a cold, black eye.

  “Hey, girl.”

  Her wing was still damaged. She hid it under herself, as if it hurt even for someone to look at it. I’d read everything I could about gulls and learned they make horrible pets. Not that I wanted to keep her as a pet. I mean, if you’d ever watched a gull follow a wind current, you’d know it would be cruel to keep one in our crappy neighborhood.

  Let me set the scene. Unless you’re rich, the houses on this side of The Island look the same. Single-level homes with concrete walls and chain-link fences. We have a double-driveway for the second car we don’t own and a field of weeds and grass that almost never gets cut. Thank God, we have a palm tree and tropical wildflowers.