wiki:thestory:notes2 [OneMoreThing]

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One moment, I was standing on the edge of the sidewalk, shoving my phone in a pocket, taking a step forward onto the street as the walking signal began to blink, and the next I was stumbling forward.
Sharp pain ignited in my ankle as I caught myself against small rocks, before my face could smash against them. 
“Fuck,” I breathed out against colorful pebbles inches away from me. My phone’s going to be broken. “Fuck.”
I turned over to lay on my back, smooshing my backpack a bit. Overhead, fluffy white clouds drifted slowly across a deep blue sky. It looked far darker than the southern California skyline I was used to, with a weird diagonal line – the streetlight! 
I pushed myself up off the rocks, scrambling up so that I could get back to the sidewalk as quickly as possible. I had to get off the street, before a car–
Water gently lapped over my sandals, the cold water a shock to my thoughts.
I was not on a street. I straightened, then immediately regretted it as pain in my ankle reminded me it was hurt. This … what had happened? I was on a pebbled beach, on the edge of the waterline – the waves of water just touching my feet. 
In front of me was a massive lake or ocean, the water stretching far beyond the horizon line. The incredibly deep blue sky was just a touch lighter than the ocean. Larger rocks peaked out above the waves closer to me. Behind me was a jungle, with the sun just peaking over the tree-top, with no abrupt end anywhere. 
There were people here, though – dozens of us, across the beach. 
For half a second, I wondered if I was at some tourist-y beach, but … one woman was in a nightgown, on her knees, praying. Another man was in a business suit, looking through a leather messenger bag, hunting for something. There was a couple clutching each other, the woman crying into his shoulder. No one was wearing bathing suits or beach clothes, there were no towels laid out, no loud radio blaring music twenty years old.
I looked down at myself. Blue jeans, light brown sandals, my grandma’s sweatshirt, and my canvas backpack. After quick search in my pockets, I was certain I didn’t have my phone on me. The panic bubbled up faster than I could squash it. 
A brief glance around at the pebbles near me also didn’t reveal my phone. 
In the pit of my stomach, I knew it was gone.
I swung my backpack off my shoulder. It wouldn’t be here, but maybe – no. The produce I’d bought at the farmer’s market thirty minutes prior were here. I stared at them for a moment, then shoved a hand past the vibrant, damp herbs I’d carefully placed at the top so recently, digging around for my phone. 
I felt the potatoes, lemons, apples, my notebook, a bell pepper, and my water bottle before I reluctantly pulled my hand out of the bag. I wouldn’t have put my phone in the front pouch, but I looked there anyways. My wallet and sunglasses were there, but my earbuds were missing, and so was my charging cable. Oddly, my medication was still there – I didn’t know why I expected it to have vanished also, but – 
Another wave rushed over my feet.
I zipped my backpack back up and swung it back around, tightening it on my shoulders. I needed to find out more, and there was a woman a dozen or so feet away, who looked like she was also taking stock of herself. Gritting my teeth and trying to ignore the pain, I started walking towards her. 
“Hey!” I called out, not wanting to get too close before startling her.
It didn’t work – the woman jumped up, dropping the box she’d been holding. It fell right on her toes and I could hear her audible, “Aie”. 
“Ahh … I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” I apologized as I got closer. She was already bending back down to pick up the box – must not’ve been too heavy. Her brown hair covered her face as she stood back up and she tried to blow it out of her face, but her attempt was in vain.  
“Je suis desolee, mais ..” The woman paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. “I do not speak English.”
French? I had taken French instead of Spanish, to spite my parents who had told me that Spanish was the far better language to learn in high school, and it was maybe finally of use? If I could remember any, that was. 
“Je parle anglaise, et parle francais en mal?” I replied, wincing. No, that was wrong. Better to just deny all French capabilities. “Ah, je ne parle pas francais. I’m sorry.”
She shrugged at me, her box making odd clinking noises as she did so. “C’est bon”.
“I’m sure we could find someone near who does, though,” I assured her, not positive she’d fully understand me. There were dozens of us, and I was sure that –
A scream pierced the air. 
It was shrill, loud, and ended just as quickly as it came. A flock of birds from the judge flew away from the edge, going further in-land (was it in-land?). 
The woman clutched her box harder, face going white. The panic in my stomach returned. Other people around us reacted as well – the praying woman had risen to her feet and the man holding the crying woman began making shushing noises.
There was a weird stillness in the air, as we looked around for the source.
“HEL-“ A shout from down the beach was drowned out by another loud, piercing scream. This time, the scream was longer. 
The businessman nearby began running towards the noise. He was the first – others began to dart over as well, following him. 
I wish I could say that I was brave and followed, but I did not. I was in a foreign place, in a situation that I did not know, and running towards screaming? That seemed like a really, really bad idea.
There were a few others who stuck behind, but most of us had rushed to the rock. It gave me a good chance to see exactly who was here. 
We were a good variety of people – There a handful of children, some elderly, a good mix of men and women. Racially, we seemed diverse. That woman I’d just spoken to only spoke French. 
Maybe she was a tourist, but … I bet that we weren’t all American.
There were new noises coming from where the scream was. It didn’t sound bad, more like … arguing? I bit my lip. It wasn’t smart to get closer, but the urge to know what was going on was too strong. 
Taking care to not put too much weight on my right ankle, I started walking to the large group of people. 
As I got closer, I could hear a loud angry man call out, “-in Missouri anymore.”
“No fucking shit,” A younger man retorted sarcastically.
 “Where’s James?”
“And who the fuck do you-“
“Would you all just be quiet?”
“-ere we are?”
There were other quieter conversations in the crowd, that I couldn’t make out. Everyone was clumped up, grouped around something, and I couldn’t see. I wasn’t sure I wanted to push my way forward. Instead, I asked a man near the edge, “Hey, what’s going on?”
He glanced down at me, then back into the crowd. “She’s not going to make it.”
That was a woman who’d been screaming, then. She’d been hurt from the … transition? I paused a moment, then asked, “What hurt her?”
“Surgery, looks like.” He didn’t bother to look down, not taking his eyes of something. The woman. I’d been … teleported? kidnapped? from the streets of Irvine, California. Had she been moved during a surgery? I shivered, not from the breeze.
“-eedles?” An older woman in the crowd was asking, “The doctor needs a needle, does anyone have any needles?”
A little overwhelmed, I closed my eyes. Right, the facts. 
-	I was transported here, with dozens (hundreds?) of others.
-	The transportation felt like it was instantaneous.
-	My phone, and other technology, had not come with me. 
-	Someone had been transported mid-surgery. 
-	No one had the same appearance.
-	We probably weren’t all from California.
-	There was a line in the sky.
I blinked at that thought, then looked up at the sky. The line I’d mistaken for a street pole was still there, wrapping around the sky. It was at an angle, warping slightly where it met the ocean in the distance. One side of the sky was slightly darker than the rest, on the other side of the line. It was a ring. I added a new thought to my list.
-	We were on a different planet.
There was another scream, and then a tortured whimper of pain. 
Everyone around me grew quiet again. A faint male voice was whispering, “Shh, it’s going to be okay. I know it hurts, but I need you to brave the pain just a little bit longer. Shh, shh. You’ll be better soon, just hold on a little longer. It’s going to be okay.”
He repeated the mantra, quieter, even as the whimpers got louder. Was this the doctor?
When he stopped, it was silent. The air was still. 
I couldn’t see what happened, but I was pretty sure I knew. 
She hadn’t made it.
Someone started crying.
--
We just sat there, quiet. People closer to the center had backed away, and I was able to see what was going on.
A woman in white 

“Quiet!” An older woman hissed at me. “Have some respect

A few other people had the same idea as me. 

The juxtaposition of the calm, pebbled beach and the frenzied people around me was 

One wrong step on her way home, and Kora is tumbling onto an unknown beach with two hundred other misplaced strangers. It isn’t long before they realize they’re not on Earth anymore – or maybe even this universe. A new planet brings new surprises: It’s up to the survivors to outlast the dangers and conquer, and Kora intends is determined to be there until the end. 
--
Spoiler summary:
Kora tumbles onto a survival setting like no other: No running water, no electricity, and only the backpack on her back before she fell onto the beach of a new planet with two hundred strangers. She’s going to need to figure out her place in this unsettled world before it’s too late.  Runes? Blue, wiggling blobs? The gems inside creatures, including in the other survivors? Kora’s not sure what it all means. She is determined to not just figure it out, but to come out on top - before it’s too late.
--
With enough patience, a suspect with interview themselves.