The Gatekeeper Trilogy

by Scott Ferrell

  “That’s another mystery I don’t quite understand,” he said

  “You seem to know a lot for somebody who doesn’t know a lot,” I said.

  “That doesn’t even make sense,” Aoife said.

  “The gateways have been around for a very long time and studied by many races other than us humans. As far as I know, nobody has figured them out yet,” Mr. Minor said.

  “Okay, what about the Getharey?” I asked.

  “Their presence here is another issue all together.”

  “How so? Why are they here?” Aoife asked.

  “To drain the Earth dry.”

  30

  THE PLAN: COWER AND PRAY

  What? Like suck all our water up?” Dylan was apparently coming out of his shocked stupor.

  “Not quite, Mr. Connelly.” Mr. Minor settled back into the oversized chair, his brow pulled together in thought. “Do you believe in magic?

  I figured he was asking Dylan. After everything Aoife had told him we had gone through, there’s no way we could deny the existence of magic.

  “I, er, I guess with everything Aoife said... I don’t know, really. I guess.”

  Well, I guess he couldn’t deny it, but he didn’t have to acknowledge it.

  “That was coherent,” Aoife said.

  “As Mr. Porter and Ms. Connelly have already found out, magic is real and Earth is teeming with it,” Mr. Minor said.

  “You mean like, David Copperfield or something?” Dylan asked.

  “No.” Mr. Minor shook his head. “That’s only illusion and misdirection, not real magic.”

  “Oh,” Dylan said. “So, hocus pocus witches and stuff?”

  “That is one type of magic, yes,” Mr. Minor answered. “And very real at one time. But it’s not the only kind of magic in this world.”

  “Wait. If there’s so much magic on Earth, why don’t we use it? Why is all the magic we see illusions?” Aoife asked.

  “Because the magic in Earth dried up a long time ago and we forgot how to use it. Over the millennia, magic has built back up and that’s what the Getharey want.”

  “Why not let them have it?” I asked. “If we don’t even know it’s there, why should we care if they take it?”

  “Because, the last time magic was used up, the Western world was plunged into a dark age,” Mr. Minor said. “Humanity almost lost itself. Plagues ran rampant. Certain institutions captured power and many lost their lives.”

  “That was a long time ago,” Aoife said. “Humanity has changed a lot sense then.”

  “Has it really, Ms. Connelly?” Mr. Minor asked with a raised eyebrow. “Can you say all of modern technology and governments will make a difference if people start dropping dead with weeping wounds? Do you think people don’t buy into mob mentalities as they did a thousand years ago?”

  Aoife remained silent. That was her way of conceding an argument. She never came out and said “you’re right.”

  The old man had a point. I didn’t have to think much about what he said. It wasn’t something I was willing to risk. I couldn’t begin to imagine Aunt Stacy and Mom surviving in a world like that.

  “So, we need to stop them,” I said. “But, with this shield, we’re cut off from any help. I mean, I guess we have the police, but no National Guard or anything.”

  “We are in this alone,” Mr. Minor agreed.

  “What do we do?” Dylan asked.

  “You’re not doing anything except going to Mr. Minor’s house where it’s safe,” Aoife said.

  “And let you face, uh, whatever’s out there alone? Ain’t happening.”

  “You don’t control me,” she snapped.

  “You’re still a minor.”

  “And you’re a major idiot.”

  “I can make you go with me,” he threatened.

  “You think? If there’s anybody here who can make somebody do something, it’s me.” Flakes of gold filtered into her eyes.

  “Aoife,” I said, for once trying to be the voice of reason. “This probably isn’t the best time. Besides, I don’t think even your strongest persuasions would change his mind.”

  “I don’t want him getting mixed up in all this,” she said.

  “He kinda already is.”

  “We don’t even know what we’re going to do,” I reminded her.

  “Then figure it out, genius,” she snapped.

  I sighed and looked at Mr. Minor. Hopefully he had something for me. With the knowledge he apparently possessed, he was the best candidate for our official planner. He looked deep in thought and not prepared to take on that role at all, however.

  “We need to get to those machines,” I said.

  “We tried that,” Aoife said.

  “We have to try again. This time we know what we’re up against. We can plan ahead and figure out how to break those machines. Or shut them down or whatever.”

  “Which machine?” Dylan asked.

  “All three of them.”

  “So, we’re going to waltz in and politely ask to check out their neat toys?” Aoife said.

  “No.” I bit the word off in frustration. “I don’t know how, I’m just stating what needs to be done.”

  “The obvious, you mean.”

  I sighed and leaned back on the couch. I pulled my hand from hers and rubbed my eyes. They stung from not getting enough sleep. In fact, weariness settled into my whole body. I had been sitting too long. I knew if I was still much longer, I wouldn’t be able to get back up. I had to keep moving. I stood and moved around the coffee table to pace the small room.

  The room’s quiet was broken only by the tick-tocking of a clock somewhere in the house. It was almost quiet enough to hear the gears turning in everybody’s head. I hoped one of the others came up with something because I sure wasn’t. The only thing I could think of was to rush into the park and hope things fell into place. That method of action hadn’t worked out all that spectacularly to date.

  “We need to go to the police,” Dylan finally said.

  “They won’t believe us,” I said with a shake of my head.

  “They’re bound to when they see what’s going on out there,” Aoife said. “If they don’t, they will soon.”

  “What help will they be?” I asked.

  “They have guns and stuff,” Dylan said.

  “I think Dylan’s right.” Aoife’s eyes tracked my pacing. “If they haven’t discovered what’s happening at the park, they will soon. We need to tell them what we know. It might help.”

  “What do we know?” I asked.

  All eyes turned to our current source of knowledge. Mr. Minor looked up from his own contemplation and grunted.

  “My knowledge of the Getharey is limited,” he said. “Very little is known about them. They don’t play nice with others, as the saying goes.”

  “How do you know about the whole magic thing, then?” Dylan asked.

  “Reputation mostly. Things I’ve read in accounts of their visits to other worlds. They are beings that thrive on magic. It is much like a drug to them. Their race uses it in such quantities that they drained their own world dry.” He spread his hands. “That led them to look elsewhere for their fix.”

  “So, how do we stop them?” I said.

  He shrugged a boney shoulder.

  “I still say guns,” Dylan suggested.

  “I doubt it’s that simple,” Aoife said. “Never is.”

  Going by the past few days’ experience, simple always leads to larger complications. I couldn’t think of anything else to do, though. We couldn’t charge right back in alone. We should let the police deal with it. None of us were equipped for battle. What were we? An extremely confused guy, an old dentist, a girl with weird emotional powers, and me. I think I had done enough to prove myself next to useless.

  “Dylan’s right,” I gave in. “We should go to the police, then go back to Mr. Minor’s house where we can at least be safe.”

  “-Ish,” Aoife muttered.

 
Mr. Minor’s shoulders seemed to slump a fraction of an inch before he struggled out of the chair. He dug the cellphone back out of his pocket and held it to me. “Maybe you can just call the police, Gatekeeper. That way we can head to my house where we can be safe.”

  I stared at the phone in his hand, taken aback by his use of the Gatekeeper title. He called everybody by their last names. He had always called me Mr. Porter. He did even after revealing he knew about the whole Gatekeeper thing. So, why use it now? Then there was the way he had said safe, like he was disappointed or something.

  “The number is 9-1-1 in case you have forgotten,” he said.

  I glanced at Aoife. Her eyes burned amber. She was reading everybody in the room. I made a note to talk to her about Mr. Minor’s sudden unusual behavior when we managed to find a moment alone. If we found one of those.

  I took the phone and turned to cross the room to the other side. I punched in the emergency number and pushed the talk button. I heard the beeping of the busy signal before I even put the phone to an ear. I clicked end and tried again with the same results.

  “The lines must be busy or something.” I turned back to the others.

  “No doubt,” Mr. Minor said. He had settled back into the chair.

  I opened the front door and peeked out. The street seemed pretty quiet, but multiple sirens wailed all over the city. It was hard to pinpoint just one. They brought back unpleasant memories of our escape from the Circle of Atlas.

  “Sounds like they’re probably being flooded with calls,” Aoife noted.

  “But, why?” I asked. “The earthquake or the Getharey?”

  I closed the door and tried the phone again. It just made the all circuits busy beep until I ended the call. “Now what?”

  “I suppose we should head on over to the safety of my house.” Mr. Minor started to push himself from the chair again.

  “I need something to drink first.” Aoife jumped from the couch.

  “Me, too.” Dylan started to follow suit.

  “I’ll bring you something. Gaige, come help.” She turned, spotted the kitchen through a propped open door just off the sitting room and strode into it.

  I followed. She waited for me to enter before swinging the door closed.

  “What do you think?” she whispered.

  “About what?”

  “This.” She breathed out a deep breath. “I don’t want my brother involved in this. If he got hurt…” She trailed off before shaking her head. “And Mr. Dentist is all but dead weight right now.”

  “What did you see just now?” I asked.

  “You caught on to the oddness? I’m impressed.”

  “Thanks,” I said with sarcasm.

  “Disappointment,” she said. “It’s like he wanted you to do what you do.”

  “What, rush in head first and blunder around until I either somehow fix things or get myself killed?”

  “Pretty much.”

  I shook my head. “I’ve had enough of that.”

  “It’s about time. But, why did he expect you to do that? I mean, it’s one thing to expect something based on a person’s past actions, but to be disappointed when it doesn’t happen?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe he thinks I can do something I can’t.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Well, whatever it is, I can’t,” I snapped, not sure why I was so angry at the old man. “What now?”

  “We get to his house,” Aoife said. “We’ll keep trying the police on the way.”

  “Then what?”

  “We figure it out from there.” She sighed and leaned her back against the door. She looked tired. Very tired. I worried she just might slump over right there. “To tell you the truth, Gaige, I really wouldn’t mind sitting this whole apocalypse thing out there. I’ve had just about enough of this.”

  “Me, too,” I mumbled. I couldn’t say I’d be able to just sit around while the Getharey did whatever they wanted to Earth, but I added Aoife to her list of people who needed to stay out of it. Through blind luck, Aoife and I had managed to stay alive. With the possibility of safety staring us in the face, there was no way I’d let her put her neck on the line anymore. I decided I’d get them to Mr. Minor’s house. From there, I wasn’t sure what I’d do, but I knew I’d do it alone. “Come on. Let’s get something to drink and get out of here.”

  We searched through cabinets until we found bright pastel colored plastic cups, filled four of them with water from the tap, and carried them into the sitting room. Aoife and I gulped ours down, Dylan took a few sips of his, and Mr. Minor held his between two hands, watching us intently.

  “So, what is the decision you two came to in there?” he asked when we finished.

  “We’re going to your house,” Aoife said after a glance at me. “Like we said.”

  “And how are we to get there?” He said like it was something as simple as asking where he could find a pencil. “Poor Ms. Woodman stopped driving quite a long time ago.”

  Aoife looked at me again. That was something we hadn’t worked out. His house was on the other side of town and getting there would prove difficult without a car.

  “I know,” Dylan said. “Unless you plan on walking, I know how to get there.”

  He stood.

  31

  TO SAFETY

  You can’t be serious right now,” Aoife said.

  We stood in a backyard. Dylan claimed it was a friend’s, but nobody had answered the door when he knocked. Whoever it was must be obsessed with dirt bikes. The yard was littered with them, everything from brand new and shiny to some that looked like they’d fall apart if we stared at them too hard.

  “You’d rather walk?” Dylan asked.

  “I’m tired of walking.”

  “It has been quite some years since I’ve been on one of those,” Mr. Minor said. His voice sounded hesitant, but there was a gleam in his eyes as he looked over the bikes.

  Dylan stepped around the bikes to the back porch and grabbed a black box. He cycled through the dial lock and opened it. He showed the pile of keys inside as he came back to us.

  “You know how to ride, right?” he asked me.

  “Yeah, of course.” I really hoped there wasn’t a big difference between my dad’s scooter and one of these dirt bikes.

  “What about you, Mr. Minor?”

  “Oh, I think I’ll be just fine, young man.”

  “Okay, Aoife is with me, then.”

  “You think I’m getting on that thing with you?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’d rather ride the back of a rabid badger.”

  “You’re walking then?” He asked.

  She looked daggers into her brother. She knew she didn’t really have a choice. We had no idea what the Getharey were up to, but we had to assume time was short. We had to get over to Mr. Minor’s house before things really started to ramp up.

  “It’s your fault you don’t know how to ride one of these,” he went on. “I offered to show you how.”

  “Fine. Whatever.”

  He shifted through the keys, glancing to the different bikes littering the backyard and back. He selected a key and tossed it toward Mr. Minor, who caught it. “You can use that one.” He gestured at a Yamaha near the fence.

  The former dentist looked the bike over and shrugged like he deemed it good enough. Dylan selected another key and handed it to me. He pointed at another Yamaha. He grabbed a key for himself and locked the box. He strolled over to a Honda, easily the newest and best-looking bike in the lot. I didn’t know a lot about dirt bikes, but it looked fast. Figures he’d pick the best from himself. Then again, it did have the biggest seat from what I could see. Big enough to accommodate a second rider.

  “Your friend is going to be cool with us just taking his bikes?” I asked.

  “More or less.” He shrugged. “Besides, with what we think is about to happen here, I don’t think it’ll much matter.”

  I nodded and glanced around. There wasn’t a
helmet to be had anywhere around the littered backyard. “So, how are we going to do this?”

  “I’ll lead. You two try to keep up.” He winked at me like this was some kind of video game or something and he was looking forward to smoking me.

  I was just about to tell him it wasn’t when Aoife interrupted. “If we’re going to do this, let’s just get it over with.”

  Dylan stepped to the bright red Honda and threw a leg over the seat. I watched intently as he inserted the key, turned it, and kicked the bike to life.

  I figured I could do this. It was just like the scooter. Except faster. I hoped I didn’t die from smearing my brains all over the asphalt. Another engine roared to life and I turned to find Mr. Minor straddling another bike. He really did know how to ride a motorcycle? I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. Anything should be possible to me by now.

  Aoife stood by Dylan as he gave her some fast pointers on riding with him. I climbed on my bike and mimicked Dylan. I turned the key and kicked the bike alive. Right away, I could tell how much more powerful it was than my scooter. Please don’t die. Please don’t die.

  “Alright, ready to go?” Dylan yelled over the whine of the engines. He didn’t wait for an answer. He walked the bike in a small circle so it pointed toward the open gate.

  Mr. Minor and I did the same thing. I nearly let it tip over half way through my circle.

  Dylan looked us over, nodded, and motioned for Aoife to climb on. She did, wrapping her arms tightly around his torso. He gave the bike a little gas and it slipped through the gate. Mr. Minor followed. I swallowed and twisted the handle. The bike shot through the fence.

  Please don’t die.

  ***

  I didn’t die for the first four or five blocks and I was starting to think I just might not. It didn’t take very long at all to adjust to the power of the bike. It was very similar except I sat higher up and everything was dialed up by about a hundred. Whereas it took several seconds to get up to 35 mph on the scooter, I got there in about a second on the Yamaha, and that was trying to take it easy on the throttle.

  Still, we took a few turns and were well on our way to Mr. Minor’s house. After the first mile or two, I actually started to enjoy the ride. I’d watched Dylan and his friends ride these things before, but never really had the desire to do it myself. I had contented myself with the scooter because I was less likely to smear my face across somebody’s hood. I never knew what I was missing.