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The Gatekeeper Trilogy

Page 31

by Scott Ferrell


  “And if I say no?” I demanded with more conviction than I really felt.

  His thunderous laugh returned. “If you say no, then you won’t be saying it for very long. Trust me, I can be very persuasive.”

  “I won’t let you on Earth. I have friends and family—”

  “Like mommy dearest? I don’t think you understand the situation you’re in at the moment.” He patted my shoulder with an it’ll-be-okay kind of air. “You will open the gateway to allow my army through. The leverage you have in saving yourself and your loved ones all depends on how much effort I have to put into convincing you to do it. Did that sink into that dense skull, boy?”

  I narrowed my eyes. I had just about enough of that. I was pissed off and it was about time I showed it. I gathered myself to call on the power, fully intending on pushing this joker, Evil Gandalf by the desk, and his overgrown weed man as hard as possible. I slid a few steps back, closing the distance between Aoife and me. I knew if she was close enough, she wouldn’t get caught up in the kinetic blast. If it hit Seanna…oh well!

  “I’ve heard enough from you,” I growled, feeling power rage inside me. I sneered and pushed. Except nothing happened. Well, I shouldn’t say nothing happened. Something did and it felt like an ax split my head wide open at the forehead. I cried out in pain and fell to a knee.

  “Gaige!” Aoife cried out.

  I held out a hand to keep her where she was. I had a newfound sympathy for people who suffered from migraines at that moment, but I was pretty sure there was no permanent damage. I reached up to touch the jewel embedded in my skin. It felt warm to the touch.

  “Really,” Daresh sighed, “you have no choice in the matter. You will do as I say. If it takes extreme measures, then that’s what we’ll do.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

  “What do you want with Earth?” I asked again as I climbed to my feet, ignoring the pounding in my head.

  He shook his head and let out a loud sigh. “It. Doesn’t. Matter.”

  “Are you going to hurt people?”

  “Hurt. Kill. Eradicate. Any or all, whatever it takes to get what I want.”

  “I can’t let you do that.” I shook my head, which caused it to pound with more violence.

  “Of course, you can. And you will,” he said.

  “Do whatever you want with me. I’m a small price to pay if it means saving everybody else.” What the hell was I saying? I wasn’t some hero no matter how much I wanted to be. I wouldn’t sacrifice myself for Earth, would I? What was I worried about, anyway? America has enough weapons to blast these people to the moon and back. They’re going to fight our military with spears, swords, and clubs? Yeah, good luck with that, Buddy . But still. If his armies went through the gate, Gate City would be first in their path. How long would it take for the military to respond? How big was his army? Could the local police hold out against them if I gave him what he wanted?

  No, I couldn’t do that. What if Daresh and his army overwhelmed the police? Gate City was in their path, along with Mom, Aunt Stacy, Aoife’s family. School. Friends. Everybody. I couldn’t do that. I had to stall. Maybe we could find a way out of here, and I could get back to the gate to close it once Aoife and I were through.

  Daresh laughed again, but this time it lacked the boom. It was soft and full of mirth. Somehow, that was more disconcerting that the earsplitting, echoing laugh. “It’s going to be a joy convincing you to give me what I want, and believe me, I always get what I want.”

  35

  In The End

  Daresh halfheartedly demanded I open the gateway for his army for another fifteen minutes. I surprised myself by standing my ground. I guess I didn’t have a complete grasp on the severity of the situation. All I knew was my blood was boiling, and I would have given anything to get my hands around Seanna’s scrawny neck. I wanted to unleash havoc on that room. I still didn’t understand the whole concept behind my telekinetic power or where it came from, but I understood what I could do with it when I let loose with a heavy hand. But I couldn’t. After that initial surge of power in me that fizzled when I tried to let it go, I couldn’t even build it up anymore. It had to do with that jewel on my forehead.

  Daresh grew bored of us, his neatly trimmed beard drooping as he sighed and waved a dismissive hand. He turned his back on me as Lurch snatched me off the floor and hauled Aoife and me out of the room. He roughly pushed us down a different hall, forcing us to walk in front of him.

  “Are you okay?” I asked her, picking at the jewel. It felt like it was superglued to my forehead.

  She turned to glare at me. “Am I okay? Seriously?”

  “Well…” I had no idea what to say.

  “She betrayed us. She betrayed you.”

  “I know,” I said weakly.

  “I knew she was hiding something,” she said through clenched teeth. “Something seemed off with her from the moment she showed up in our class.”

  “Yeah, I get it,” I said defensively. “We were duped.”

  “You were,” she corrected. “I’m only here because you wouldn’t listen to me and go back to Earth with me.”

  “I had to try.”

  “Try what? Try to get captured by a madman with a horrible beard?”

  “Look,” I said, dropping my voice to a whisper, “we just need to focus on getting out of here.”

  “Right.”

  I glanced over my shoulder at Mr. Beanstalk. “Where are you taking us?” I demanded.

  “Walk,” he replied, his deep voice rolling along the wood-walled hallway like thunder.

  “Brilliant plan,” Aoife muttered. “Why don’t you ask him which way is the quickest out of here?”

  We made several turns and went down a flight of stairs before heading down another long hallway, this one lacking all the decorations of the upper floor. The walls were bare and the wood floor rough. The lighting was sparse as well. He directed us into a shadowed alcove. At first, I thought it was a dead end until I noticed a doorway hidden in a deep corner shadow. I could barely make out a set off stairs leading down into the darkness.

  “Gaige,” Aoife said, her voice filled with fear.

  “Down,” Mr. Beanstalk commanded.

  I was afraid. There was no doubt in that. A deep, twisting pain crept up at the bottom of my gut as my stomach flipped on its side, but the real fear came from knowing Aoife had to go down there with me. I feared for my life, but I didn’t want anything to happen to her. I could take something happening to me. That was on me. But the thought of them hurting her made my skin go cold.

  Beanstalk pushed me toward the ladder, but I stood still, waiting. When I felt his hand on my back again, I spun and snatched his wrist. I yanked as hard as I could, trying to twist his arm up behind him, but he was just too strong. I wasn’t able to move his arm. At all. It was like trying to put a lead pipe in an arm bar. His free hand snaked out and struck me in the chest. I flung back. I hit the doorframe right down the center of my back, along the spine. I twisted and stumbled down the stairs. I tumbled end over end. Halfway down I heard my left shoulder click and cried out in pain before I landed at the bottom of the dark stairs with a thump. I rolled onto my back, dazed. I tried to figure out where the pain came from, but it was everywhere. Everything hurt, making it hard to pinpoint a place of origin. Aoife appeared in my field of vision.

  “Gaige? Are you okay?” she asked as she knelt beside me.

  “Am I okay?” I asked, echoing her own words to me earlier. “Seriously?”

  Mr. Beanstalk appeared over her shoulder. “Get up.”

  “Give him a minute,” Aoife snapped.

  His face was as impassive as ever. He could have been an emotionless moving statue. He pushed Aoife aside. She fell against the stairwell wall with a grunt. I opened my mouth to protest, but nothing came out. He reached down and pulled me to my feet by the front of my shirt. My left arm hung limp at my side. Trying to lift it was like trying to lift a bag full of brick, and moving it sent streaks
of pain up my shoulder and the side of my neck. I clamped my teeth together, trying to not cry out from the pain of the rough handling.

  “I think he’ll live,” he said after looking me over a moment. Before I could respond, he pushed me against the wall and held me there with one hand. He laid the other on my shoulder and slammed it against the wall behind me.

  My shoulder locked violently back into place. The pain was intense enough to cause my knees to buckle. I would have collapsed on the floor if he hadn’t been holding me against the wall. I groaned and I thought I might pass out, but the dagger-like pain started to subside. Barely. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until I let it out in gasps as the pain receded to a sharp ache.

  “There, all better. Now move,” he commanded, taking his hand off my chest.

  I looked down at Aoife, who stared at me with so much fear that it made me want to cry. I tried to smile at her in what I hoped was a reassuring way and reached out my hand to help her up. With my good arm, that is. I noticed a long, red scrape running from mid-forearm to my palm. Mr. Beanstalk pushed me toward the next set of stairs heading further down before he hooked a hand under Aoife’s arm and pulled her to her feet. He gave her a rough nudge toward the stairs as well.

  I winced as she stumbled into me but managed to keep us both from tumbling down the second set of stairs. I was pretty sure that my body couldn’t take another one of those spills. While being pushed down a set of stairs was a quick way down, I wouldn’t recommend it. I turned and took a few steps down, trying to hide a limp and ignore the warm blood I felt running into my shoe.

  ***

  I lost track of the number of stairs we went down. They seemed multiplied by pain that vibrated through my leg with every step. Somehow in my tumble down the first flight of stairs, I had cut a gash in my right calf. Knowing my luck, I’d end up with tetanus. The stairs were narrow, steep, and dimly lit. We passed lights with less frequency the further down we descended. To make matters worse, the stairs became slicker with some sheen of indeterminate origin. It took a lot of concentration trying not to go tumbling down again. Concentration I didn’t have to spare.

  I reached the bottom of the stairs without incident. I would have been relieved if it wasn’t for the dread that had settled in the pit of my stomach. The hall waiting for us was lined with roughly cut chunks of stone and was dark, dank, and very dirty. The smell overpowered my senses to the point I could almost taste it. The fact I could smell it at all over my own body odor said a lot, considering the fact that I hadn’t had a shower since the day before the earthquake. It’d been several days and a lot of sweating and traipsing through a swamp since then. I didn’t smell pretty.

  At any rate, the odors from either me or the dungeon were the least of my worries. The fact that I was in a dungeon took center stage in my consciousness. Faint moaning drifting from somewhere down the hall didn’t help matters, either.

  I tried to think of something to say to our captor, something that might convince him to let us go. I didn’t have anything to bribe him with. I figured appealing to his compassion wouldn’t help much. Even though we were just kids, his callous treatment betrayed his lack of a beating heart. In a figurative sense, of course. I think.

  We passed several large, heavy doors before he stopped us outside of one. He pulled it open and stood to the side.

  “In,” he commanded.

  Aoife hesitated, looking around in fear. She looked ready to bolt like a frightened deer, but one that couldn’t get her legs to obey. I knew how she felt.

  Mr. Beanstalk quickly grew tired of waiting and pushed her inside. She stumbled but managed to stay on her feet. I moved to join her, but he stepped in the way and slammed the door shut with a thundering thunk that echoed up and down the dark hallway. The door was solid, thick with only a two-inch slit just about eye level. As soon as Aoife regained her footing, she hit the door, peering out that slit.

  “No! No, no, no. Gaige! No!”

  Mr. Beanstalk slid the little door that covered the slit into place. For whatever was left of my life, I knew I would never get that image out of my head: Aoife’s golden eyes shining bright and pleading, building with tears. From behind the door, I heard her muffled voice turn into sobs. Her fear hit me like an ocean wave. Anger quickly came in to join it. My anger. White and hot. It spurred me unbidden into action. As Beanstalk turned from the door, I charged at him, intent on burying my good shoulder into his midsection. He swept an arm in a backward motion, catching me in the head with his elbow. I flew to the side and flopped to the slime-covered floor.

  My head dancing with stars, I pushed myself up to my hands and knees. Before I could stand, he landed a kick to my side. I left the ground at least a foot and slammed into the wall. He snatched me by the back of the collar and dragged me down the hall before I could regain my senses. I reached up with my good arm and grabbed his wrist, digging my fingers into the soft, nerve-bundled flesh at the wrist. If it hurt him, he didn’t react or loosen his grip. He dragged me into a cell farther down the hall in spite of my pathetic struggles and dropped me to the floor. A moment later, my cell’s door slammed shut with a finality that broke whatever spirit I had left.

  ***

  As unmanly as it may sound, I lay curled in a ball for quite some time, long after the slam of my cell door had stopped echoing up and down the hall. I hurt all over. The pain prevented me from doing much of anything else. I had taken some pretty nasty hits playing football, and in spite of the pads I wore, they left me sore and aching later. None of those hits came anywhere close to the kick I took while prone on my hands and knees. Breathing too deep hurt. Moving at all was pretty much out of the question. I didn’t need WebMD to diagnose myself with a broken rib or two.

  I lay there in my little ball, trying to count all my bumps and bruises, losing count somewhere on my thigh. The one bit of good news I could come up with was the fact I couldn’t feel warm, wet blood running down my leg anymore. It stung like nobody’s business, but at least it wasn’t bleeding as far as I could tell. I decided to check it once I could move again. If I could ever move again.

  To tell the truth, my injuries weren’t the only thing keeping me on that cold, dirty floor. I felt miserable. Maybe a bit stupid, too. I had known Seanna for only a handful of days, but her betrayal left a pain in my chest sharper than the broken ribs. I barely knew her, but I hadn’t hesitated to put my life and trust in her hands when I followed her through the gate. She admitted she had used magic in convincing me, but I couldn’t be too sure that I wouldn’t have come through without that aid. An argument including getting me away from that city would have gone a long way in convincing me to step into that cave. That gateway. I wanted to get away from everything. From football. From school. Yeah, from Mom and her condition, as much as it shamed me to admit it.

  I called myself a few very unkind things. Not only had I been stupid enough to trust Seanna far beyond what I should have, I had dragged Aoife into the mess. The thought of her down the hall in a cell alone added more pain to my chest. I sunk deeper into my misery. I gave up. There was nothing I could do to get out of that place. I couldn’t help myself, much less Aoife. For the first time since the night I’d found out about my parents’ accident, I found myself wishing I would just die. I couldn’t do anything but lie there and wait for whatever came. All the anger that had built up slipped away like mist burned away by the dawn. Nothingness crept in to take its place. I squeezed my eyes shut and let tears roll unchecked down my face.

  End Book On e

  The Gatekeeper

  Gate City

  The Gatekeeper Trilogy: Book 2

  SCOTT FERRELL

  MysticPhysh Publishing

  Find out more about MysticPhysh Publishing here.

  http://bit.ly/mysticphysh

  Copyright © 2016 Scott Ferrell

  Find out about the author by going to these sites:

  bit.ly/munboy

  https://www.facebook.com/a.munboy<
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  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design: Laura Harwood

  Cover Model: Matt Asboe

  Cover Photographer: Rebekah Chandler

  ISBN: 1523397608

  ISBN-13: 978-1523397600

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to a very understanding wife who has indulged (read: put up with) this crazy habit of mine for years as it went from a hobby to a way of life. It takes a different kind of woman to be the wife of an author. Christy is definitely different and that’s why I love her

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Part One: The Gateway

  The Dungeons

  Dreams of Escape

  Rescue

  Push, Don’t Pull

  Down the Atlas

  Flight Through Delicia

  Delicia’s Underground

  Cost of Betrayal

  I Saw Your Dream

  Flying Garbage Cans

  Home Free

  Free Falling

  Return of Minotaur

  Battle in the Swamp

  The Survivor

  Dash to the Mother Tree

  A Final Goodbye

  Part Two: Shaking Earth

  The Plight of Richard Porter

  The Call of the Gateway

  It Begins

  Attack on the Connelly’s

  O’Connor’s Hometown Grocer

  What Makes a Hero

  Mr. Minor

  The Return of Brian

  Waking to a Nightmare (Again)

  Dreams of Escape

  Part Three: Invasion of Gate City

  Temporary Refuge

 

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