The Travelers: Book One

by Tate, Sennah

  THE TRAVELERS

  Book One

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Red Lily Publishing

  Copyright © 2014 by Sennah Tate

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  A note from the author:

  Thank you so much for choosing to support independent authors and publishers! If you enjoy this story (and I hope you do!) please take the time to leave a review and tell your friends! Your continued loyalty and enthusiasm is what helps me continue to create the stories that you love!

  This is the first book of five in The Travelers series. Be on the look-out for the next installment!

  If you love this book you’ll love my others, too!

  Find more titles from the author here!

  Do you want to be notified when Sennah Tate releases a new title? Would you like to learn about upcoming promotions and free books? Sign up for our mailing list! It only takes a second and you’ll never miss out on the latest Sennah Tate news!

  You can also follow Sennah Tate on Facebook!

  And Twitter!

  Table of Contents:

  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

  Coming Soon from Sennah Tate…

  Also By Sennah Tate

  About the Author

  Sign up for our mailing list!

  Chapter 1

  “You’re firing me?”

  “Well, no, not in so many words…” Principal Hernandez looked down at the papers on his desk, shuffling them and straightening the pile to avoid locking eyes with the young woman on the other side of his desk. He always hated this time of year. Budget cuts and stricter government standards meant that layoffs at the end of every school year had become commonplace.

  Lincoln Middle School had consistently scored poorly on the state-mandated standardized tests, putting Principal Hernandez in the unenviable position of making the school’s budget balance. Fundraisers and booster clubs could only go so far. He didn’t have the space in the budget for any extra teachers that weren’t in STEM specialties.

  “We’ve just decided that we won’t be able to renew your contract for next year,” the haggard older man finished, his eyes trained on the scratched edge of his desk. He hated this part of the job. Each year, doe-eyed kids, freshly certified, inundated him with resumes. Each year, he let go his best teachers to make room for inexperienced people that he could pay less.

  Gemma Fellings had been one of those hires a few years ago. She was a great elective teacher. She managed to teach the music, art, and computer students on different days of the week. The students loved her, she even supervised a few of the after-school study groups. It would hurt to lose a passionate and dedicated professional, but there just wasn’t any place for her salary.

  “So, I’m fired, like I said,” she answered, trying to force the slight man to make eye contact with her. She knew that he was avoiding her gaze because of his guilty conscience; making him meet her eyes wouldn’t change his mind, though.

  “The county has appointed a one teacher for all of the middle schools. He’s going to visit five schools a day. You know what the cuts are like with FCAT and Common Core. You’re too good of a teacher to be treated like this, Gemma. You deserve better.”

  Gemma frowned, feeling like she deserved a job if she was such a great teacher. There was no arguing her case though. Any teacher without tenure knew that their fate could be decided at any moment without them. Unions could only do so much as far as contracts were concerned; they helped in the negotiations and Gemma was sure if she called her representative they would give her some path of recourse.

  “I’m really sorry; I’m in a tough place. It’s either you or Abigail and…”

  “And parents would much rather pre-AP than art, I get it,” she answered with a sigh.

  She left the empty halls of Lincoln Middle School, trying to stop herself from getting sentimental. This had been her first assignment, where she found her teaching legs so to speak. She loved the kids, but the job wasn’t what she had imagined. Entitled parents, lack of supplies and no support from administration made her job unnecessarily difficult.

  As she crossed the sweltering parking lot, a fine sheen of sweat broke out on her forehead. The sunshine state had always been Gemma’s home, but even after twenty-seven years, she still wasn’t used to the oppressive humidity of Tampa Bay.

  The drive home gave her ample time to think about her next course of action; she didn’t want to stay in Tampa anymore. That much she knew. The city was too big, too dangerous, too full of uncertainties around every corner.

  The lease on her apartment would be up in a week. Gemma had given the property manager notice that she intended to renew her lease, but now she thought better of it. What better time for a teacher to make a fresh start than Summer Vacation?

  Maybe a new perspective wouldn’t be so bad. She’d lived frugally enough that she had enough savings to live off of for a few months. Just enough time to find a new job to start in the next school year.

  By the time she made it through the constantly-congested portion of I-4 known as ‘Malfunction Junction’, Gemma had made up her mind: she was going to move.

  There was something freeing about not knowing what the future held for her. How could she worry about things that she hadn’t even decided on yet? No, the new Gemma would be carefree; she would find a new town on a whim, move into a tiny little house perfect for one and she would find a way to support herself, whether that was teaching or not.

  Gemma was in constant motion for the next week; there were so many things to do in preparation for the move that she didn’t even really have time to think about all of the things going on. It was only once she was moved into her charming cottage in Hannaford Glen that she collapsed on the couch with a glass of wine and everything really sunk in.

  “Oh my god,” she muttered, her eyes staring blankly at the popcorn ceiling, “what have I done? I lost my job!” she cried, the reality only just finally settling in. She’d allowed herself to get so wrapped up in the excitement of new prospects and the anticipation of a great new adventure that she never took the time to think things through like a rational adult.

  “Gemma Marie Fellings, what where you thinking?” she groaned, her arm hanging limply from the edge of the couch. Hannaford Glen was a few hours north east of Tampa through the I-4 corridor that bisected the state; the temperatures still climbed toward the triple digits like they had in Tampa, but the inland town didn’t suffer from the thick blanket of humidity that the coastal cities did. It was a nice change of pace to be able to relax in her living room with only a ceiling fan cooling the room, but the comfortable climate did nothing to soothe her encroaching panic.

  Before she had the chance to completely give in to the sudden crop of
doubts in her mind, the doorbell rang.

  Gemma perked up, eying the door warily; who would be paying her a visit when she’d only just arrived in town? A moving truck with most of her furniture showed up in town the day before she had and it was a race against the clock for her to get everything unpacked enough to satisfy her for the night. She couldn’t stand living out of boxes and had long ago developed a packing system to avoid it.

  Each room was boxed separately and each room had boxes sorted by priority so that a few hours of unpacking rendered her new home completely livable. It was the only way she would be able to relax enough to sleep and even then that might prove difficult in a new place.

  She glanced at her phone for the time: 7:53 PM. Was it really not even 8 o’clock? She was exhausted and had assumed that it was much later.

  The door bell rang again and Gemma pulled her reluctant body away from the comforting embrace of her couch. Her muscles ached with every step towards the door, but she plastered on a bright smile to greet the little old woman on the other side.

  “Hello,” the gray-haired lady said in a shaky voice. A mass of curly hair trembled at the woman’s feet; upon further inspection, Gemma realized it was a dog and it wasn’t trembling — it was wagging its tail at her. Shaggy fur covered the creature’s face and the only thing that helped Gemma differentiate between the front and the back was a bright pink tongue lolling out of his mouth.

  “Hello,” Gemma replied politely.

  “Eustis and I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood,” the old lady said, the fluorescent leash shaking in her arthritic hand.

  “Oh, that’s very nice of you. I’m Gemma,” she replied, not sure if she should offer her hand or not; the old woman’s bones might be too fragile for a handshake. She slipped her hands into her pockets to avoid the dilemma.

  “You can call me Mrs. Kruft. I’m sure we’ll be seeing plenty of each other. Eustis keeps me out at all hours of the day with his tummy problems. I hope you won’t take it personally if he leaves you a little gift now and then. My knees give me a lot of trouble and it’s hard to pick it up.”

  “Oh… um, sure, that’s fine I guess,” Gemma answered, flabbergasted by the turn the conversation had taken. Years of teaching made sure that she wasn’t squeamish at all, but she didn’t particularly want to be talking about the bathroom habits of her neighbor’s labradoodle.

  Mrs. Kruft shuffled her feet as she attempted to turn about face, her brittle bones making the movement difficult.

  No sooner had Mrs. Kruft reached the steps of Gemma’s front porch than another neighbor smiled and waved at them from the sidewalk.

  “Hello there!” He shouted, apparently feeling no shame in his too-short bicycle shorts and faded cut-off shirt. He wore a heart monitor on his arm and a complete set of bright pink sweatbands on his wrists and forehead.

  “Oh, hello Albert!” Mrs. Kruft rasped with a wide smile splitting her wrinkled face.

  “Hello, Mrs. Kruft, Eustis,” Albert replied, inclining his head to each of them before power-walking his way up to Gemma’s front door.

  “I see you’re new to the neighborhood,” he said, addressing Gemma without pausing to take a breath, “I’m the head of the neighborhood watch, so I make it my business to welcome everyone and let the community feel our presence.”

  “That’s… nice,” Gemma commented, not sure if he was expecting a response from her or not.

  “Well, if you ever want to help keep your community safe, I’m down in 1143, come see me and we can work with your schedule. We always need dedicated members. Only when we make our voices heard can we make improvements.”

  Gemma nodded without a word. She didn’t know what improvements needed to be made. She didn’t know anything about this neighborhood.

  “You know, I was just talking to Mr. Liu about—”

  Gemma never heard what Albert had talked to Mr. Liu about because he was interrupted by yet another neighbor.

  “Albert, you’re not harassing the new neighbor already, are you?”

  “N-no, Isabel… I’m not,” Albert stammered, suddenly much less jovial.

  “Why don’t you get out of here? We’ve got a coffee date,” the woman — Isabel — lied to the older man.

  Gemma silently thanked Isabel for saving her from the barrage of overly-friendly elderly neighbors as Albert turned, dejected and walked away. Gemma secretly hoped that she would never see the pushy Neighborhood Watch leader — who she suspected of having a tanning bed addiction due to his leathery brown skin — again.

  Isabel jogged up Gemma’s front steps and pulled her inside before Gemma had a chance to protest.

  “Just go along with it or you’ll be stuck here all night,” she muttered, dragging Gemma through the door before closing it.

  “Phew, that was a close one. You have to be careful out there in the waiting room. They’ll eat you alive,” the petite brunette said flippantly before rummaging through Gemma’s cabinets looking for something.

  “Hmm, guess you haven’t had a chance to do much shopping yet, have you?”

  Gemma’s mouth hung open for a moment, her head still whirling.

  “Waiting room? What are you looking for?”

  “Coffee. I’d settle for booze, though,” Isabel quipped, perching a hip on the counter as she surveyed the open area that led to the living room.

  “I like what you’ve done with the place. Last guy that lived her was weird. Really into birds,” she muttered, rifling through the drawers.

  “Um… here, let me,” Gemma offered, pulling one of her most valuable possessions from under the kitchen sink.

  The counter-top coffee maker was one of those models with the individual drink pods. Gemma had debated over the purchase, going back and forth for months about whether it was an economical decision on her meager salary. Finally, after a particularly glowing classroom review, she decided to treat herself to the extravagant system and never regretted it for a moment. Unwinding with a cup of coffee after a long day of filling out progress reports reminded Gemma of the little Cuban cafe near the University of Tampa that she often studied at. It was nostalgic and made her feel at ease, so she thought the three-hundred dollar price-tag was justified.

  “That’s what I’m talking about!” Isabel said as Gemma pulled out box after box of different flavored pods for the machine.

  “Cappuccino?” Gemma asked, plugging the machine in before pouring water into the reservoir.

  “Hey, I’m easy. If it’s got caffeine I’m happy,” she answered with an easy smile and a shrug.

  “Ooh, tough luck, I only have decaf,” Gemma said with a frown.

  “You’re shitting me.”

  “Yeah. I am,” Gemma answered with a laugh.

  “Ugh! No fair. That’s no way to repay me for rescuing you from the blue hairs.”

  Gemma snickered and nodded.

  “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t saved me. You’re my hero,” she feigned a swoon and the two girls dissolved into giggles.

  “I’m always available to help a damsel in distress. I’m Izzy, by the way.”

  Gemma handed Izzy the steaming mug and raised hers with a nod of her head.

  “Gemma.”

  The mugs clinked together and each took a deep gulp of the smooth liquid before exhaling on a sigh. Gemma felt like they’d been friends for years.

  “Well, Gemma, welcome to the neighborhood. You’ve brought the average age of residents down from the upper 80s to the lower 80s,” she joked.

  “So, that wasn’t just a small sample of the neighbors? They’re all…?”

  “Knocking on Heaven’s door? Yeah, totally. They don’t call us Heaven’s waiting room for nothing.”

  Gemma snickered.

  “Oh, that’s what you meant about the waiting room? That’s terrible,” her amused tone belied the admonishment.

  Izzy rolled her eyes before taking a seat at the kitchen table.

&nb
sp; “They wouldn’t even hear me if I said it to their face — hearing aids aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.”

  “Well, I didn’t know any better, but what’s your excuse for living around here?”

  Izzy shrugged.

  “It’s close to work. I can walk if I need to.”

  “Fair enough,” Gemma answered with a nod before finishing her coffee.

  “Do you want a refill?”

  “I’ll never turn down seconds,” Izzy said with a waggle of her eyebrows as Gemma popped another pod into the coffee maker.

  “Where do you work?” Gemma asked; she still hadn’t taken the chance to really drive around town to see where anything was. She found the ad for the house on Craigslist and decided to take a leap of faith. The jury was still out on whether it was the smartest decision or not.

  “I sling drinks at the only Italian place in town. You should come by some time and hang out, meet some people, you know. What do you do?”

  Gemma nodded, “Yeah, that would be great. I was hoping to get to know some people around town. I’m a teacher… or I was. Currently undecided, I guess.”

  Izzy nodded and took the refilled mug from her new friend.

  “Understandable. The education system around here is nuts. I don’t envy that job at all.”

  It was a sentiment Gemma had heard plenty of times before. Most people accepted that teachers were over-worked and under-paid for the things they were expected to do in nine months. For years Gemma thought that was just the cost of doing what she loved, but now she wasn’t so sure what she wanted.

  “So why’d you move out to Hannaford Glen? Where were you before that was so terrible that this place looked better?”

  Gemma nibbled her bottom lip, looking deep into her coffee.

  “Just a new start I guess? Tampa wasn’t the worst place ever, but it wasn’t somewhere I wanted to be for the rest of my life. Once I didn’t have any more obligations there, I guess I just decided to take advantage of it.”

  “That’s cool, though. I’ve never lived out of this little town. I wouldn’t even know where to begin to go. Anyway, I’m open to close tomorrow if you wanna stop by Santorini’s. I’ll make sure to take care of you if drinking is your thing. If it’s not… it will be before too long, not much else to do around here,” she added with a flippant toss of her silken ponytail.