The Final Link
The Gateway Saga Book 1
By Erin Thornton
Copyright © 2018 by Erin Thornton
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by an electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is dedicated to Influenza A and Infulenza B. Without whom, I would have released on time and not had to push back release date a full month. I hope you’re happy!
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Author’s Note
Prologue
Another day, another customer. Aggie grabbed the plate and carried it out to deliver. “Here’s your order. Is there anything else I can get for you?”
“Does this look cooked to you?” Her older customer poked at his chicken but didn’t cut into it. She hated it when people actually answered that question. Why couldn’t they just nod and go with it, regardless if they were happy or not.
“I’m sorry sir, but I’m not sure. I can’t tell from the outside, I’m not the cook. I assume they checked the internal temperature or something before sending it out with me.” She knew her tone sounded short, but what were they expecting her to look through it with her x-ray eyes?
“I want to speak with your manager. You’re obviously too rude to do your job properly.” With an eyeroll Aggie didn’t even respond. Walking away she flagged down the manager and pointed at table nine. It was the third table that day and the eighth one that week, that wasn’t bad except, it was only Tuesday.
Checking on her last table who already had their food, it was a couple guys closer to her age and had been sure of themselves all night. Aggie was so over the losers who came in and hit on waitresses. It was her biggest pet peeve. “How are you guys doing? Are you ready for your check?” She was supposed to offer dessert but she rarely did because she just wanted the tables to leave so another could sit down. The lingering tables always made her shift feel like it was longer than it really was and families were the worst.
“Only if that check is going to include your number. If not, then I think we will need to stick around until we persuade you.” The first guy was the leader of the two which was obvious because the other one just sat and laughed encouragingly, at everything the first one said.
“Oh, my number of course, because I work here because I can’t do better than guys who tip poorly and hope to get laid by a stupid waitress that happens to give them her number. I have nothing better to do tonight, but sit by the phone and hope that you call because you need a late-night blow job? I’m sorry, I think I have a better offer from table nine.” Aggie gestured back and the old man who insulted her previously. Walking away without another word or a second glance, Aggie went to go print their check. Unfortunately, she hadn’t lowered her voice and everyone else in the restaurant was staring at her now. She would have cringed if she actually cared. It wasn’t like this was her dream job. She might not know what she wanted to do, but peopling was really not her thing.
As she approached the kiosk to print the ticket for the pigheaded guys who thought they were God’s gift to women, Aggie was quickly cornered by the manager on duty. “Hey there Aggie, I just finished talking to table nine and after the display you just put on out there for everyone, I think this is just going to be easier if we part ways. I feel like this isn’t your best fit. I’m sorry, but they will have your last check at the end of the week and you can turn in your uniforms then.” The manager was a weaselly looking guy that Aggie thought was more creep than manager. Honestly, it was probably for the best. He was always checking her out when he didn’t think she was looking.
This place was really a step down and she didn’t even make that much in tips. Although, that could have been partly her fault. Regardless, it wasn’t going to make her lose any sleep that night. Even if this was her fourth job in as many weeks, she knew she would settle into something soon and then she could move out of her Gran’s house. She never had to pay for anything while she was living there, but she wanted her freedom and something to call her own. When that day presented itself, she knew it would be the right time.
Chapter 1
Aggie flopped down on her bed, causing the pile of dresses to jump and a few to scatter to the floor. She had laid them out for the funeral today but couldn’t bring herself to put any of them on. She lay there in only her black lace bra and matching panties. Rolling over, she saw the photo of her mother holding her not long after she was born. “Mom, why did you have to go so soon? Now I have to do this on my own.” Her Gran had taken on the challenge of raising Aggie when her mother died, while Aggie was still in diapers. Her father wasn’t ever in the picture. When she asked her Gran about him growing up, she was shut down with, “Never mind that man, he couldn’t be bothered to stick around after your mother found out she was pregnant and then became sick.” She had only brought him up a few times in her youth and was met with the same short and angry answer. Now, Aggie was left to plan and attend her grandmother’s funeral.
Glancing from the picture, Aggie began fidgeting with the loose pieces of jewelry on her nightstand. She loved to have at least a pair of earrings or a necklace to complete her everyday looks. Unfortunately, she also had a bad habit of leaving them on when she crawled into bed. Instead of crawling out of bed again - Aggie was much too lazy for that – she would just set them on the bedside table. Keeping up with her personality, they tended to stay there until she wanted to wear them again and never made their way back to the bathroom.
Grabbing her cup of water, that was always beside her bed, Aggie made her way to the kitchen to refill it. Walking out of her room, she didn’t feel the need to put on clothes because there was no one but her inside the house. Their house was in the middle of nowhere, at least twenty miles to their closest neighbor. Walking past her Gran’s room, Aggie found herself slowing and turning in. She couldn’t get past the doorway, but the room still felt like her grandmother was there. Her perfume was still lingering in the air. Aggie didn’t know the name of it, but it was a floral scent that always made her nose curl, ever to be associated with Blythe Wasley. With one last look, Aggie turned to make her way downstairs.
Walking down the hallway towards the kitchen Aggie heard something that stopped her dead in her tracks, the click of the latch on a door, that had never been opened the entire time she had lived in that house – which meant her whole life. Turning slowly the mysterious door, that her Gran would never speak of, was cracked open. With a puzzled expression, Aggie walked towards the room. Pressing open the door, she walked inside slowly. What she saw was simply, strange.
On every wall, surrounding every inch, was a doorknob. There were dull ones, drab ones, rusty ones, all the way to brilliant, shiny and delicate ones. “What kind of collection is this? Gran, you were always odd but I think this takes the cake.” Aggie took a few more minutes to survey the space that had been hidden her entire life, then quickly shut the door.
Time was getting away from her and she had to finish getting ready. Aggie was
thankful there wasn’t going to be an official wake, given the fact that there was no other family left alive and all the friends were distant. She wasn’t even sure how many people would show up for the funeral, let alone a wake if one were held. Even though no one would be coming over to the house, it was still shut up tight, as though the house was also in mourning. The curtains were drawn closed, casting dark shadows all over the house. If this had been her first time in the house, it would be a bit spooky.
Making her way back to her childhood room, Aggie felt safe. This room had always been her sanctuary and today it was a refuge. The rest of the house served to remind her of her grandmother. The double bed was her mother’s and always made her feel safe and protected, as though her mother was still there somehow. Walking over to her dresser, she pulled out a pair of black hose. Her Gran would have insisted she wore them, because that was proper. Aggie hated them, especially in the heat of summer. This was one time she would wear them without complaint.
She pressed the escaping clothes back into the drawer; her dresser was getting too small, as it was the same one she had as a young child. As her clothes got larger, space became limited. Aggie never wanted to trouble her grandmother with something so small. She had already taken on a child and Aggie didn’t want to be a bigger burden.
Blindly grabbing a dress out of the mess on the bed, Aggie threw it on in a hurry. All of them were black and the best of the best in her closet. Not that she had a lot of dresses, but this was a special occasion, she had to sort out the best from the worst. Glancing at herself in the mirror, she smoothed out the wrinkles from lack of use.
Aggie was a curvy girl, with a flattering shape. Aggie wasn’t one for working out, but she loved her snack foods. It was her vice in times of stress, times of happiness, or in this case, times of grief. Okay really, she ate snack foods under any circumstances.
Her chocolate colored hair was brushed out straight laying over her shoulders and halfway down her back. She never wore much makeup and this day was no exception.
*****
The wind had picked up overnight and was thrashing Aggie’s hair around wildly. Why are funerals always stormy or severe weather? It’s like nature knows someone has died and they are keeping the mood set right, Aggie thought to herself while sitting graveside. After speaking with the planners at the funeral home, they had opted to do everything in one place given the fact that chances were no one would show besides herself. The funeral home had everything set up and given that this was an old church graveyard, it was easier to plan the service. The preacher was handling the ceremony and they were waiting until right on the hour to start, giving anyone else a chance to show up.
Aggie closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to just stare at the casket while she waited. Inhaling slowly, she smelled the newly turned earth, making it all the more real, that her Gran would soon be living in the ground. Not down the hall from her, harping about what a mess her room was and if she was going to do the dishes after dinner.
A scuffle caught her attention, she noticed a few people making their way through the scattered headstones toward her. No one that she saw did she recognize. Aggie sat up a little straighter as they approached her. The first was a woman who walked straight up to the closed casket placing her hand on the top, her head bowed in silent vigil. When she moved again, her eyes met Aggies and they were an odd shade of blue, almost violet. This weather must be messing with my vision or she has some elaborate contacts. The woman was willowy and beautiful. She didn’t say a word to Aggie, she just took up residence behind her, out of sight. Aggie turned to look to be sure the woman hadn’t left.
A few more people approached and they all, like the violet-eyed woman, paid their respects to her grandmother and silently made their way to the space behind her. By the time the preacher took his place at the front of the service, the area behind Aggie was full of people. There were no murmurs amongst them at all. No one took a seat, they just stood reverently waiting for the service to start.
The preacher broke the silence, “We meet here today to honor the life of Blythe Wasley. We give thanks for her life and ask God to bless her now that her time in this world has come to an end.” His words were a prayer to begin the service. “For Blythe Wasley, the journey is now beginning. But for us, there is loss, grief and pain. Every one of us here has been affected - perhaps in small ways, or perhaps in transformative ones - by Blythe Wasley. Her life mattered to us all. It is important for us to collectively acknowledge and accept that the world has fundamentally changed with her passing. We are all grieving. Life will not be the same - nor should it be. Together, let us open our hearts and commemorate the impact Blythe Wasley had on us.”
*****
Tossing and turning in her bed, Aggie had difficulty sleeping that night. It wasn’t the first time she had been alone in the old farmhouse, but it was the first time she had been alone knowing no one would be with her again. Tears stained her face. She had held it together at the funeral. It helped that others had shown up to show that her Gran’s life was equally as important to others. Not that any of those guests had ever spoken a word to Aggie, she still didn’t know who any of them were. They were all, different. In addition to the lady with the almost violet eyes, there was a man who stood enormous in the crowd. He had to be nearly seven feet tall easily. Another had long hair that hung down to his shoulders, but Aggie was sure that when the wind moved just right her ears were misshapen, almost elven if not quite that pointed. Each person in attendance had an odd characteristic that stood out to Aggie as they made their way from the casket to the space behind her chair.
When Aggie had stood to leave they were all gone. She never heard them leave or heard a car start to signal she was alone. Her heels had sunken into the damp soil underneath the lush grass as she walked back to her car. Just as she leaned down to climb into the driver seat a movement by the trees caught her eye. When she turned to see what it was, there was nothing there. She decided it must have been a squirrel or a bird that had been spooked by her approaching steps.
Now lying in bed, she wondered if she would ever sleep again. Aggie jolted in bed as she heard a creak of a floorboard that sounded like it came from downstairs. What was that? Usually, Aggie would talk aloud to herself, but she was startled and offhandedly worried someone would hear her. They didn’t own any animals because her Gran was allergic. So, there should be nothing to cause that sound aside from herself. Aggie lowered her feet silently to the floor, as she heard the sound again. Seriously, what was that? Why on the first night I’m alone does the house have to make strange noises? Part of her assumed it was just the house settling and nothing to be afraid of, so she scurried out of her room and downstairs quickly. Knowing the house as well as she did, Aggie didn’t need to turn on a light to see around in the dark.
As she made her way to the downstairs hallway, Aggie froze. This was the second time in less than twenty-four hours that had happened. The mystery door that was filled with doorknobs, was ajar again. She hadn’t been back in there since the funeral because she was emotionally exhausted when she got home and went straight to bed. Now, the room was open and a light was glowing from the crack in the door. The floorboards creaked again, accompanied by the sound of footsteps. Had that second sound just not reached her bedroom before? Forcing herself to move, Aggie made her way to the door. The closer she got she could see shadows bouncing around the room caused by the light that was now clearly visible. It wasn’t a lightbulb more like it was a glow from a candle or many flickering candles. It was bright enough to see clearly into the room, but Aggie didn’t recall seeing candles in that room or furniture for one to have sat upon. This night was getting more and more strange the longer she was awake.
Placing her hand on the door, she tried to open it slowly to not draw attention to herself. Aggie peered inside, to her surprise there wasn’t a candle anywhere in the room. The light seemed to be coming from a ball of light floating in the space. Captivated by this p
henomenon, she was startled when she saw a man moving in the room. He was tall with dark hair and a scowl that should have scared her. Instead, she was drawn to him in a way that she didn’t understand. His hands were clasped behind his back as he paced the space. He looked like he was impatiently waiting for someone. Then, just as he was getting close enough to make out his individual features, a hum started from across the room. She followed the sound with her eyes, and she couldn’t believe what she saw. A line was forming in the shape of a door on the wall. It flew open, and light poured from the empty space. Then, appearing out of the beam another man stepped through.
This man was just as tall as the first, but his features stood out immediately due to the fact that he was bathed in light from the door. His hair was long and white and was pulled back into a low ponytail. Her breath caught as she took in his face. His angular features offset his lean body type perfectly and if she were to describe him, he looked angelic. So perfect words couldn’t do him justice. Suddenly the door closed with a sound of suction, as though it were sealing as securely as possible.
The men met in the middle and shared a look and shook arms in a way that seem ancient. As the newest one turned his head to show his pointed ears, Aggie gasped and both men turned toward the door. She covered her mouth and flipped her body to the wall, hidden from the doorway. She hoped they would ignore it and not come looking for her. Those hopes were shattered as the door swung open and the dark-haired man stepped out with his arms crossed. He looked fierce and intimidating. Their eyes met and Aggie felt her entire body react to the man that stood before her. His nose twitched, as he looked at her, it was as if he was inhaling her scent. Grasping her arm, he pulled her into the glowing room.
Realizing that both of these men were unarmed, or so it appeared, Aggie found her voice first. “Who are you and what are you doing in my house?”
The Final Link Page 1