The Travelers: Book One Read Free

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.
    Gemma chuckled to herself as her new friend left to head home. The day had gotten off to a rocky start, but Izzy was the bright spot. The spunky bartender gave Gemma hope that she would be able to make friends and actually have a social life in this town. With the prospect of a night on the town on her mind, she was able to fall asleep in her new home without much difficulty.
    The next morning she slept in, dreading the task of continuing to unpack. Piles of boxes reminded her of the frequent moves she’d had as a child. Shuffled around from one side of town to another, living with different family members for bouts of weeks or months, only to have everything packed up and moved again.
    By the time she was in elementary school, Gemma managed to keep all of her belongings in a back pack. It wasn’t until middle school — her third school in two years —  that she had a teacher that saw what she was going through.
    Miss Jones was the most kind-hearted person that Gemma had ever met. When everything else in her life was turmoil, Gemma always knew that there was a place for her at Miss Jones’ house. The music teacher went above and beyond, giving Gemma rides to and from school even as her family continued their nomadic lifestyle, just so Gemma didn’t have to transfer schools again.
    It was Miss Jones that first gave Gemma a taste of what a stable life could be like and it was Miss Jones that inspired her to teach. She wanted to be able to help other children the way she was helped. She didn’t want another kid to fall through the cracks like she had for so long.
    Groaning, she rolled over, trying to block the bright sunlight from streaming through her still curtainless windows.
    “Okay, okay, I’m up,” she muttered to herself. Reluctantly, she pulled her tired body out of the beckoning warmth of her bed and trudged her way into the kitchen for a caffeine boost.
    A quick glance out the kitchen window while her coffee brewed showed a gentle breeze playing through the quiet streets. Gemma expected her neighbors to be out and about after the welcome she’d received the previous day, but the sun was already rising high into the sky and most of the elderly residents were likely seeking refuge inside from the baking rays.
    She thought that this might be her chance to get acquainted with the layout of the neighborhood without interruption…maybe. It was probably wishful thinking, but she got dressed and took her coffee along for a mid-morning walk.
    Tall skinny pine trees and sturdy oaks alike swayed in the breeze that rolled down the sidewalk. The temperature may have been well into the 90s already, but with the little breeze and the lack of moisture in the air, Gemma found it downright refreshing.
    Sharp palmetto blades struck out through chain-link fences angling for her ankles. The concrete underfoot was bleached and cracked from years of the Sun’s abuse. Being in a small town was definitely a new experience for her; Florida was notoriously bad at keeping up with weather damage to streets, but at least in the city things were maintained to a certain standard. As she rounded the corner, Gemma could see places were the asphalt of the road was completely eroded away to expose the original brick streets underneath.
    She liked the little bit of character that came from neglect. Hannaford Glen felt lived in and loved. Tampa had always felt abused, like the city never really wanted those people in it but they fought to stay anyway.
    Not wanting to stray too far from home, she just circled the block, passing right by Mrs. Kruft’s home. Eustis was in the front yard, wagging his tail wildly. Gemma took a quick glance around to see if the old woman was anywhere to be seen before she bent to give the scruffy dog a scratch on the head.
    “No offense, but