The Eternity Road (The Eternity Road Trilogy, Book 1)
Page 1
The Eternity Road
Book 1
Lana Melyan
© 2018 Lana Melyan
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual locales, organizations, events, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Lori Grundy
For information:
http://www.lanamelyan.com
www.facebook.com/lanamelyan
Contents
Acknowledgments
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
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Acknowledgments
I can’t thank enough my editor, my guide, my daughter Zara for her support and the invaluable work she has done on my manuscript.
My daughter Dora and her boyfriend Yb, for being there for me every single time I needed them.
And my sister Ivetta, for always believing in me.
Dedicated to my grandfather,
after whom I named
my First Hunter, my Captain,
my Keeper of the Book, Samson.
1
They galloped through the dark woods and came out to a meadow that glowed silver in the moonlight. The young woman stopped her horse abruptly, and the hood of her cloak fell, revealing long, fair curls. She sniffed the air and rolled the axe in her hand. ‘We are surrounded.’
Amanda put the pen down. It was late. Yawning, she dropped the notebook on the floor and slid down under the duvet. As soon as her head touched the pillow, she was asleep.
She was falling through total darkness. Next moment, she jolted at the impact with something soft, and her eyes flew open. Sitting up, she brushed her back against a rough, wooden headboard. She felt awake, but the surrounding view was unfamiliar. Amanda looked at the nightstands with oil lamps on them, one on either side of the bed. There was also an old dresser and a mirror with blurry, yellow spots. The walls were covered with faded, bulging wallpaper. She must still be dreaming.
Her heartbeat rose, drumming against her chest. Where was she? Just a second ago she had been at home, writing in her bed.
She swung her bare feet onto the cold, dusty floor. After a moment of hesitation, she went to the door and stuck out her head. There was a hallway with three more doors and a staircase leading down. Amanda tiptoed to the first door and put her ear to it. No sound. Peering in the keyhole, she saw the outline of a chair.
What am I afraid of? she thought. The situation was strange, but it didn’t seem dangerous. Holding her breath, she carefully put her hand on the rusty door handle and pushed it.
Nobody was inside. She checked the other rooms, and they, too, were empty.
Downstairs, Amanda came upon a large living room with old-fashioned furniture, a big fireplace, and high windows covered by heavy curtains. The walls were stained with mildew, and there were spider webs in every corner. To her right, she could see the front door.
“Hello? Is anybody here?” she asked in a small voice.
She turned to the front door and pushed it, but it wouldn't open. A key stuck out of the keyhole. She glanced behind her and saw only her own footprints in a thick layer of dust. Everything said that nobody had visited this place in a long time.
Amanda unlocked the door and stepped outside. Tall grass covered the big front yard, surrounded by woods on all sides. No gate or road. In the middle of the yard was a dried up fountain with the statue of a baby cherub. Amanda ran down the porch stairs.
“Hello? Is anybody there?” she cried.
All she heard was the rustling of leaves coming from the woods. Goose bumps from the morning chill popped out on her arms. Only then did she realize that all she was wearing were her night shorts and a top. She hugged herself and headed back to the house to search the rest of it.
As soon as she stepped inside and closed the door, a wave of dizziness hit her. She dropped down in a big, leather armchair. In the same second, the armchair and the floor disappeared beneath her, and she fell into a big, dark, endless hole. Amanda’s scream echoed around her as she fell.
When she opened her eyes, she was still screaming. But now she was back in her own bed, in her own bedroom. Breathing heavily, Amanda looked around in disbelief.
“It was a dream,” she murmured.
Still shaking, she took the duvet and threw it around her shoulders. A knock on the door made her jump.
“Amanda, honey, are you alright?” she heard her father’s voice.
“I’m fine, be right down,” she answered, trying to sound normal.
“Okay. We’ll wait.”
Wait for what? she wondered. She never ate breakfast, he knew that.
Amanda felt weak and tired, as if she had carried stones all night. She got out of bed and opened the window. It was a sunny spring morning, full of the sweet smell of blooming lilac. The light, cool breeze tickled her face. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
A quick shower warmed and relaxed her. But she couldn't forget the dream. It had been so real—she could still smell the dust.
As Amanda headed down the stairs, she heard whispering in the kitchen. She came around the corner and saw her father and Melinda standing side by side in front of the kitchen table.
“You look weird, people, you know that?”
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…” They started singing and stepped aside. Behind them was a cake with eighteen candles sinking into the icing. “Happy birthday, dear Amanda, happy birthday to you!”
Amanda laughed.
“I forgot… I forgot my own birthday.”
Her father pulled her in and kissed her forehead.
“Make a wish, honey.”
Amanda considered the candles for a moment and blew them out.
“What did you—”
“I am not going to tell you what I wished for, Melinda.” Amanda smiled. She settled into a chair beside her father.
“Right. We don’t want to jinx it.” Melinda turned to the coffee maker, poured a cup of coffee, and handed it to Amanda.
Melinda, a slender African-American woman of around fifty, had been their housekeeper for the past nine years. Always curious, she never missed a chance to ask questions.
“I can’t believe that I forgot my birthday,” Amanda said again. “It because of that stupid dream.”
“What dream?” Melinda leaned forward on the table and narrowed her eyes.
“Is that why you screamed?” her father asked.
Amanda nodded.
“What was it, dear? What did you see?” Melinda asked again.
“Okay, well… I was all alone in an old house covered with dust, in the mid
dle of nowhere. I couldn’t find anybody, and believe me, that was already scary enough. But then I fell in a big dark hole. That’s when I began screaming. What do you think it means?” asked Amanda and both, she and her father, looked at Melinda.
“It was just a silly dream. Forget about it,” Melinda said. She looked at Amanda’s father and added, “You are going to be late, Lindsey.”
“Yeah, I’ve got to go.” He put his coat on. “Honey, you said that you don't want to have a party, are you sure?”
“Yeah, don't worry about it.”
“I promise I'll sit in my room, quiet as a mouse. Or I could meet some friends.” He adjusted his tie.
“Are you looking for an excuse to go out?” Amanda teased. “No, no party. But I'll have fun, I promise.”
“All right, then.” He took his briefcase and waved goodbye on his way out.
Amanda's cellphone rang, and she scooped it up.
“Where are you? We’re going to be late.”
It was Hanna.
“Hello to you, too,” Amanda laughed. “On my way.”
She grabbed her bag, took the apple handed by a smiling Melinda, and ran out.
The moment Amanda closed the door, Melinda’s smile disappeared. She hurried upstairs to Amanda’s room and carefully removed the duvet. There, on the fresh, white sheets, were clumps of dust and a few small pieces of grass.
“Oh, God,” Melinda gasped. She reached for her cellphone and dialed a number. “Craig, it’s me.”
2
When Hanna’s car broke down yesterday, she and Amanda made arrangements for the girls to ride together. Amanda drove down Oak Street and spotted Hanna standing outside in the shade of white acacia. As soon as the car stopped, Hanna threw herself in.
“Relax,” said Amanda with a grin. “We are not that late.”
“I know. Close your eyes,” said Hanna.
“What? Why?”
“Close them, please.”
“Okay.”
Hanna took her hand and placed what felt like a hexagonal box into Amanda’s palm. She squeezed Amanda's fingers around it.
Amanda opened her eyes. The box was covered with old, dark vinous-colored velvet. She lifted the lid and saw a silver bracelet. It consisted of eight small coins connected to each other by tiny golden loops. The coins had a golden roman number and a golden circle with many small holes around each number. Amanda studied the eighth coin.
“This one doesn’t have a number,” she pointed out.
“It’s a clasp. Happy Birthday, Amanda,” Hanna said softly. “It's from me and my brother.”
“Craig? You’re kidding, right?” Amanda smiled shyly. “He doesn’t even like me”.
“You always say that. I told you, he doesn't talk to us much because he’s afraid he’ll bother us.”
Amanda looked at the bracelet, turning each coin. It was handcrafted and didn't look like something found in a regular store.
“Do you like it?” Hanna asked.
“It's old and valuable, isn't it?”
“Yes, it's very old and valuable,” Hanna said with a serious voice, looking straight into Amanda's eyes. “You’re not going to sell it, are you?” She laughed.
“Silly. It's just . . . you’re giving it to me.”
“Craig and I want you to have it.” Hanna squeezed Amanda's hand.
“Thank you.” Amanda hugged her and put the bracelet on. “Okay, history class awaits.”
She took a bite of the apple and drove.
The radio was on, and when “Bad Things” came on, they both sang along with Jace Everett.
“Do you like the TV show?” Hanna asked.
“This song is from a TV show?” Amanda took another bite of the apple.
“It’s about vampires. You like vampire movies.”
“I like Buffy. I like how she kicks their asses.”
“Can you put down that damn apple and hold the wheel with both hands?” grumbled Hanna.
“What? I’m eating it. You know what they say, right? One apple a day . . .”
“Yeah, but if you crush your skull, I don't think your apple will save you,” said Hanna.
“Calm down, everything is under control.”
Amanda stopped the car on the high school parking lot, and they both got out.
“There she is,” said Hanna and nodded to the side, where Kimberly sat on a bench in the shadow of a big oak, looking annoyed and impatiently tapping her foot on the grass. When she saw Amanda and Hanna, she got up and dashed toward them.
“What took you so long?” she said, passing right by them.
“Where are you going?” Amanda spread her hands.
“Wait,” said Kimberly, heading to her car.
Hanna glanced at Amanda and shrugged.
Kimberly came back with a beautifully wrapped package in her hands. She handed it to Amanda, beaming.
“Happy birthday! Open it.”
They sat on the bench as Amanda unwrapped the present.
It was a framed picture of the three of them, taken last summer. They had picnicked at their favorite spot beside the lake outside of town. Amanda and Kimberly offered to give Hanna a ride on their hands. They took each other by the wrists and Hanna sat down and put her arms around their shoulders. They took her right to the water to throw her in. But she grabbed them by their necks so tightly that all three of them collapsed into the lake. They stuck the camera on a fallen log and snapped a picture of themselves sitting around a small fire, wet from head to toe, laughing. Kimberley had written in one corner, Friends forever.
“I had forgotten about that,” said Amanda.
“Me, too,” said Hanna, still grinning.
“That's so sweet, thank you.” Amanda hugged Kimberly.
“We prepared everything, and we’re going there today after school.”
“We are?”
“Yes, just the three of us, to celebrate your birthday. Or did you want to invite somebody else?” Kimberly quirked an eyebrow.
“Like who? Him?” smirked Hanna. She nodded toward the school entrance. “Look who your boyfriend is talking to.”
Amanda and Kimberly turned their heads. Alec Stafford, a tall, blond guy, was talking to his ex-girlfriend, Debra Gordon as she flirtatiously smiled at him.
“He is not my boyfriend, you know that,” said Amanda indifferently.
“The whole school thinks he is,” said Hanna.
Kimberly shrugged. “They’re just talking. At least she’s not pulling his hair. That's good, it means—”
“That they remained friends? Please.” Hanna chuckled. “Look at her, does she look like a friend?”
“What's wrong with you?” said Kimberly, frustrated.
“What's wrong with both of you?” said Amanda, standing up. She headed for the school building, and her friends followed.
Amanda opened her locker and pulled out the history book. She looked into the small mirror attached to the door and ran her fingers through her long, dark-brown hair.
“I’m sorry,” said Hanna, looking at Amanda's back. “It's just she always flirts with him when you’re around.”
“First of all, she’s a flirt, not he, and second— I don't care.” Amanda turned to face Hanna. “He is not my boyfriend. People can walk together and talk to each other and not be a couple.”
“Maybe. But the way he looks at you . . .” started Kimberly and stopped, her gaze drifting a few inches above Amanda's head.
“Hello, girls,” said a voice behind Amanda.
“Hello,” said Kimberly.
Amanda turned around.
“Hi, Alec.”
Hanna walked past them.
“Kimberly, are you coming?” she said in a sharp tone.
“Yep,” said Kimberly, following her.
Alec leaned on the lockers. “Hanna doesn't like me.”
Amanda didn't know what to say, because he was right. “She’s just in a bad mood. Her car died,” she improvised.
; Alec chuckled.
The bell rang. Amanda hugged her history book as they moved along the corridor.
“I was going to ask if you have any plans for this Saturday.”
Amanda thought for a few seconds. “No. Not yet. What’s up?”
“Party, at my house.”
“Is everybody invited?” She looked at Kimberly and Hanna arguing far ahead.
“If by ‘everybody’ you mean Hanna,” he said, tracing her gaze, “then, yes.”
“She will come, you know.” She looked at him sideways and smiled.
“I know.” He smiled as well. “It’s okay, I'll wear my football gear.”
Amanda spotted Mr. Hancock, the history teacher, at the end of the hallway.
“I have to go.”
“See you,” said Alec.
Amanda caught up to Hanna, who was talking to Sarah about the essay due next week, and sat behind her. Kimberly sat on the left from Amanda’s desk and stared out the window with a bored face until Mr. Hancock walked in and shut the door.
Amanda looked at her bracelet and touched it with her fingertips. Craig wanted her to have it. Was that so? Why? Maybe Hanna only included him because it was valuable and she was afraid that Amanda wouldn't accept it if it had been just from her. Or maybe it had belonged to somebody from their family, and she couldn't give it to her without having Craig’s permission. Then again, why give it to her?
She liked Craig a lot. Her heart began to pound every time she looked at his blue eyes or if his strong hands accidentally touched her. But to him, she was just Hanna's friend. He never gave her any reason to hope. She often dreamed about him, and it was always the same dream. She stands in the middle of a green field. Suddenly, out of the dark forest surrounding the field, Craig appears. He runs towards her, and when he finally reaches her, he looks deep into her eyes and says, “Eleanor.”