by L. Eira
THE TRAVELER’S
QUEST
Book Two
The Traveler Series
A Young-Adult Trilogy
Dr. L. Jan Eira
Copyright © 2016 Dr. L. Jan Eira
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1530343429
ISBN 13: 9781530343423
Library of Congress Control Number: 2016905231
CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
North Charleston, South Carolina
CONTENTS
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
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
CHAPTER FIFTY
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
THE TRAVELER’S RETURN: Book Three
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
PROLOGUE
The climate turned deadly, and many lives were lost in the frigid temperatures. The weather bureau cautioned of the continued cold, snow, ice, and blizzard conditions with stern warnings for everybody to hunker down and stay indoors. The roads were impassable, and travel anywhere was unbearable and unsafe.
The temperatures all over the world dropped to unimaginable frosty-bitter numbers, and these blizzard conditions threatened to persist for at least twenty-four to forty-eight hours.
And so it had been. Though it seemed to go on forever, the viciously cold temperatures eventually desisted, and all slowly returned to normal. Now it was routine as usual, school back in session.
“I still can’t believe how cold it got,” William said. “I thought we’d never be able to camp again!” He took a deep breath. “As cold as it was then, look how nice and warm it is now.”
“All those poor people who died in the blizzard.” Ellie looked out the window.
“Most of them died because they didn’t listen to the warnings,” William said. “With all the blizzard warnings, why were people driving and walking around outside?”
“We don’t know their circumstances,” Ellie said. “Maybe they had to for some reason.”
“I guess you’re right.” William donned his backpack. “Are you ready to go? We’re going to be late for class if we don’t leave soon.”
She nodded and grabbed her gear, and they both headed downstairs for breakfast. They had plenty of time to ride the bikes to Brent’s house and back.
“Why don’t we just buy him an alarm clock?” William asked.
“Because the exercise will do us both some good,” Ellie said.
CHAPTER ONE
Ellie and William walked around Brent’s backyard looking for a small object to throw at his second-floor bedroom window. The house was brownstone with a dark-tiled roof, with many windows adorning its facade. The grass took on a brownish hue from the cold spell of the last few days.
William tossed a little rock, hitting Brent’s windowpane with a ding.
Within seconds, Brent opened the window. “Is it morning already?” He gazed into the hazy distance and squinted. “Be right down.”
In no time, the three teenagers were on their way to school, a short bike ride away. The sun already shone brightly through the morning clouds. Despite this, the small town remained in its perpetual drowsy state. A car cruised by unhurriedly. An old man walked his dog as he petted and talked to a tabby cradled in his arms. A woman holding a small child strolled across the street. An older man with a thick mustache waved at the kids as he turned a sign on the window, displaying a new message: Yes, We’re Open!
The caravan proceeded, with no talking to disrupt the rhythmical sounds of the pedaling.
The teenagers arrived at the parking lot near the main entrance into the Austin Academy Boarding School, home away from home for Ellie and William. William straddled his bike and removed an object from his pocket. “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. Something really weird.” He produced an iPhone, which he held out so the others could see.
“Whose cell phone is it?” Brent asked.
“I don’t know her, but…” He pushed some buttons on the device. “This girl.” The iPhone displayed a smiling, beautiful girl wearing a cheerleader outfit. “Her name is Valerie Rovine, but I have no idea who she is or how I got her phone.”
Ellie and Brent shrugged.
The boys secured their bikes to the rack.
“Let’s find out more about her,” said Ellie. “Let me see.” She took the device from William and fiddled with it for a short while. “It says on her Facebook page that she goes to Mullen High School. Lives here. Rich part of town.” She tinkered further with the device. “Lots of friends. Extracurricular activities. Cheerleader.” She showed the others a boy’s picture. He was wearing shoulder pads and holding a helmet. “Sorry, guys. She’s taken. Meet her boyfriend, Douglas Payner, a football star at Mullen High. Quarterback.”
“Are you jealous?” said Brent. “You know you’re the only girl for us.” A smile amassed on his face.
“Oh, I don’t know,” said William. “She’s kind of cute.”
“Well, too bad for you, William,” said Ellie. “She’s taken—”
The cell phone dinged, interrupting her. William took the iPhone and read the text message. “It’s from Doug.”
“What’s it say?” said Brent.
William read aloud, “I just heard you might have died last night. I heard some kids killed you. Please tell me it’s all a really bad joke. Call or text me back right now. I can’t make it without you, Val. Without you, my life is worthless. If you’re gone, I’ll be with you really soon. Call me and end this nightmare!”
CHAPTER TWO
When Police Officer Scott Tomlinson walked into Memorial Hospital’s emergency room with his partner, he was clueless about the potential health consequences of his present status. He was more concerned about his unrelenting cough, sniffles, and terrible body aches.
“Susie, put Officer Tomlinson’s chart on the top of the pile,” said the head nurse. “We can’t have our policemen waiting around to be seen.” She winked at the cops. �
�They got lives to save.”
“This way, gentlemen,” said Susie, guiding the two officers down the hall.
“I feel so foolish,” said Tomlinson. “This is just the flu.”
“OK, now you’re a doctor?” his partner, Hines, said. “The flu doesn’t cause you to have chills this bad.”
“Actually, it does,” said Susie. “We’ve seen several police officers over the last couple of days with god-awful chills. Our doctors say it’s all due to an unusual strain of some weird bug they haven’t seen before.”
“Yeah, all the guys that were in the cave,” said Hines. “I wasn’t in on that raid, but I just know I’ll get it too, riding in the car with this fool all day.”
“Don’t be such a baby, Hines,” said Tomlinson. “You heard her. It’s just the flu.”
When they reached emergency room seven, Tomlinson got on the bed, and Susie took his temperature, pulse, and blood pressure.
“You have a fever,” she said. “Just like all the others. One hundred point seven.” She jotted down the numbers on her report. “So you were in on that raid? In the cave?”
“Yeah,” said Tomlinson.
“They apprehended four teenagers and one adult male,” said Hines. “Apparently they were experimenting with beetle larvae or some crazy thing like that.”
“Weird people everywhere,” said Susie. “I heard they were hiding after stealing some drugs from our pharmacy.”
Tomlinson sneezed, and then wiped his nose with a tissue.
“Tell her about the chest pains,” said Hines. “And tell her how much you smoke too.”
“Chest pains?” said Susie, her eyebrows now raised.
“Right here, in the middle of my chest. Pressure feeling.” Tomlinson made a fist and held it in front of his breastbone.
Susie’s concerned mien suddenly grew. “When did the chest pains begin?”
“I’ve had those on and off for about three months,” said Tomlinson. “When I run or walk fast. It goes away when I stop.”
“You’re giving me a textbook description of angina pectoris,” said Susie. “Heart pains. Are you having the pain now? At rest?”
He nodded. “Yeah, a little.”
“Any family history of heart attacks?” asked Susie.
“Yes. Most of the men in my family have had heart attacks before age fifty,” said Tomlinson.
“And they all smoke like chimneys,” added Hines.
“How old are you?” asked Susie.
“Forty-eight,” said Tomlinson.
“I’m ordering an EKG on you, stat.”
Dr. and Mrs. Rovine received the worst news imaginable. With it came an avalanche of emotions. Their only daughter, Valerie, had died suddenly of anaphylactic shock after eating a peanut-containing chocolate bar.
Dr. Rovine progressed through the stages of grief one by one. First there was the denial. As cruel as the world could sometimes become, losing a child, losing his Valerie, would make life meaningless. It couldn’t be true. Could it? The scientist in him knew Valerie’s demise was undeniable. Just as true as all the times in his professional career when he had been forced to inform people that their children or loved ones had succumbed to anaphylactic shock. Or a congenital heart defect. Or the unexpected emergence of a deadly heart rhythm. If it were real then, why wouldn’t it be real now? Was he so special that the might of God would not dare take one of his own?
Then came the anger. How ridiculous was it to lose the most precious part of him to a bite of a snack bar? A goddamn snack bar! Nothing heroic or gallant, noble or admirable. Just a goddamn twenty-five-cent Baby Ruth snack bar.
The bargaining…God, if you make all this just be a nightmare, I promise…I promise…I’ll promise anything. Anything at all.
Depression and acceptance, the last two, struck Dr. Rovine simultaneously. They were in cahoots, conspiring to stab at his heart, unseen bits of life gushing out of every pore. An invisible force field overwhelmed him.
To make matters worse, because of the unusual circumstances surrounding his daughter’s death, Valerie had become a police-and-coroner’s case. While the investigations were ongoing, there would be no rest for Valerie. For himself. For his family.
He was now sitting alone in the on-call room, his gaze on a picture of Valerie.
The best thing to do is to return to what I know best. Continue with my routines. Go back to work. A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.
“You’re having a heart attack, Sergeant Tomlinson,” said Dr. Rovine, looking at the EKG. “We have a new experimental medication called Enoxadin for heart-attack patients. You’re a good candidate for it, if you’re interested.”
CHAPTER THREE
The morning air was still and cool. The quiet invited peace, but his loss invited deep, unbearable sorrow. With a heavy heart and a sense of determination, Doug put his car in park in the student parking lot at the Mullen High School, tears streaming down his face. He took a deep breath as his right hand caressed the small briefcase lying on the passenger’s seat of his vehicle.
He held up an eight-by-eleven photograph of a beautiful young woman. She had dirty-blond hair, and an infectious smile encircled a set of perfect white teeth. Doug’s index finger touched her lips and then the handwritten message on the right lower corner of the picture: “Let me be your future. Love always, Valerie.”
“Football isn’t everything,” Valerie had told him only a few weeks ago. “I know you feel like your life is over after your injury, but there’s much more to life.”
“Nothing worth living for,” Doug said. “Nothing!”
“What about me?” said Valerie. “What about us?” She stood up and walked to Doug’s bedside. “I’m not giving up on you. Why are you giving up on you? And me? Us?”
“Football was going to be my life, Val,” he said.
“I was hoping I was going to be your life,” said Valerie. “Football is just a game.”
“A game I can no longer play,” said Doug. “Good-bye scholarships. Good-bye college. Good-bye future.”
“Yeah, good-bye scholarships,” said Valerie. “But why good-bye college or future? I’ll be there for you. Let me be your guiding light.”
Doug swallowed hard and nodded his head. Valerie wiped a tear from his cheek. “Promise?” he questioned.
“I promise,” declared Valerie.
Doug stared at Valerie’s picture in his lap, a tear landing on its glossy finish.
He placed the photo on the dashboard and grabbed the small briefcase that lay on the front passenger seat. He opened it, and its contents captivated him for a long moment. He retrieved the ammo clip and contemplated it for a while. A tear cascaded down his cheek once more and fell onto the briefcase. He placed the clip between his legs and grabbed the semiautomatic machine gun. He loaded the clip into the weapon and sat it on the passenger seat. His gaze focused on the large building in front of him in the distance. The place he had come to almost every day for the last four years—Mullen High School. A place to learn. A place to be with his friends. A place to play football. A place that had given him joy and fame.
Doug smiled as his mind went back to his visit a few weeks back.
He knocked on the door labeled “James A. Brammeier, head coach, football program, Mullen High School.”
“Come in,” said Coach. “Sit down.”
Doug chose the seat nearest the door and tried to hide his mounting anxiety. “You called for me, Coach?”
“I did.” Coach took a sip of coffee. “You have a lot of talent, Doug. You may be the most talented young quarterback I’ve had the honor of coaching in my twenty years.”
“Thank you, sir.”
I’m proud of you, son.” Another sip of coffee. “I have in front of me five letters, each from a division-one university.” A rare grin formed on Coach’s face. “You’re a wanted man, son.”
“Wow! I’m speechless.”
“All you have to do is pick one of these colleges and
you’re in. All expenses paid.” Coach stood and handed five papers to Doug. “You deserve this. You worked very hard for it. Congratulations, son.”
Here and now, Doug looked out his window. The parking lot was full of vehicles. He sighed and glanced at the clock on his cell phone. It was fifteen past seven. School would officially begin in fifteen minutes, but not for him. He had too much to do, and classes weren’t on the schedule for today. In fact, he was done with school. Forever!
In the distance, several groups of students walked somberly into the high school, their heads down. By the entrance into the building, there was a large sign: “Gathering at the gym at seven o’clock tonight in memory of Valerie Rovine.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Miles away, Brent, Ellie, and William were paralyzed with uncertainty about what to do next. Dumbfounded. Confused.
A loud bell sounded as the last of the students rushed through the main door and disappeared into the Austin Academy High School building.
“We’ll have to be late for school and deal with this,” said William.
“Text him back,” said Brent.
“No!” interjected Ellie. “Call him and talk to him, William. This is too sensitive for texting.”
The teenagers looked at one another, and then William made the call with the iPhone on speakerphone.
“Doug, my name is William Baten. You don’t know me but—”
“How did you get Valerie’s cell phone?” yelled the voice on the other side of the call.
“I found it in my pocket this morning,” said William, his voice uneasy and meek.
“What the hell do you mean you found it in your pocket? How did it get there?”
“I don’t know, Doug. I truly don’t. But I’m calling to see if I can help you. Your text sounded—”
Doug’s powerful voice interrupted him. “Did you have anything to do with Valerie’s death? I’m going to find you, William Baten. I’m going to make you pay.”
“No!” said William. “I had nothing to do with her death. I didn’t even know she died until your text—”
“Yeah, like you’d admit to it,” said Doug. “Thirty Pleasantview Park, Austin Academy High. I know exactly where that is. Be right there.”