9. Aster
Chapter 9
Aster
T he loud beep of my alarm startles me from sleep, and I smack my nightstand until I find my phone and turn it off. Otto yips, bouncing on the bed to get my attention.
“One second, buddy,” I groan.
He continues barking, alerting me to something more pressing than food. I pull myself upright and nearly jump out of my skin. Farnsworth is standing at the foot of my bed, arms crossed and lips pursed.
“Uh, hey.”
He nods, looking even more out of place here in his dated style than he does in his own realm. “You forgot to file your status report.”
“Oh. Shoot. I did.” Scrubbing my hands over my face, I blow out a breath. “Sorry. It’s a lot at first.”
“I know. That’s why I’m here.” He glances around with a disdainful look. “Above.”
“You don’t like it up here?”
“No. Up here is how I ended up down there.”
“Right.”
“Did you make contact with the Horror?”
“I saw him. Crash said he’s not fully manifested yet.”
“Ah, Crash attached to you. He’s good but… Well, you’ll figure it out.”
“I’d appreciate a heads-up.”
Farnsworth nods, tilting his head. Suddenly, his words are in my head but not spoken aloud.
Crash is smart and well meaning, but he can be a little wild when it comes to some of the more aggressive Horrors. Keep that in mind. He’s better at managing the living.
I nod. “Okay.”
“Crash is correct that the Horror is still manifesting, but our indicators show that he is strengthening quickly. He’s motivated, which is very bad. He wants to harm his target. I’m implanting his history now.”
“Implanting? What does?—”
I choke on my words as my head jerks back. Words and pages scroll by and somehow I’m able to read and understand all of it. It’s all about Chester Dillon, from his childhood to his death.
“Whoa.”
“You may need this information to deal with him,” Farnsworth says. “I’ll be going. Don’t forget your report.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Then he’s gone. Otto yips at the space he was just in then looks at me, tilting his head.
“Takes some getting used to, buddy. Come on. Let’s get you some breakfast.”
Interesting that Otto barked at Farnsworth. Doesn’t that mean he’s not benign? I’ll have to ask Crash.
An hour later, I pull into the parking lot of my job with no clue how I’m going to focus and act normal after what I’ve been through the last couple of days, but maybe the distraction will be good for me.
Stepping inside the building feels different, like I’m seeing it all with new eyes. A person in front of me scans her badge and unlocks the door, holding it for me, which is great since I couldn’t find mine this morning. HR will be annoyed to have to replace it, but oh well.
I walk through the office, glancing at people who look at me as if they’ve never seen me before. That’s odd. When I get to my desk, there’s a man already sitting there, typing away at the computer. Several members of my team file in, gazing at me with curious and slightly suspicious eyes as they take their seats. The man in my chair looks up, pulling his head back slightly.
“Can I help you?” he asks.
“Uh, yeah. You’re sitting at my desk.”
The man’s brow creases. “I’m sorry?”
I look around. “Did they reorganize and move my desk over the weekend?” Little bolts of panic spread through me until I see Michele coming in. She smiles but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge me.
“Michele. It’s me. Aster.”
Michele’s eyes land on the man at my desk before returning to me. “I’m sorry. Have we met? Oh. Are you a new hire? I didn’t get the orientation email.”
“New hire?” I rub my forehead. “Is Brad here?”
“Probably,” the man says. “I’ll take you to his office.”
“Thanks.”
What the fuck is going on? I was just here on Friday, so why is Michele acting like she doesn’t know me and there’s some new dude at my desk?
The guy with me knocks on Brad’s open door. My boss looks up, smiling slightly, but there’s not even a hint of recognition on his face.
“Morning, Bill. Who’s this?”
“Aster,” Bill says. “He seems to think I’m at his desk. There must be a mix-up.”
“Huh,” Brad says. “I’ll take it from here.”
Bill nods, walking away but glancing over his shoulder at me.
“Are you supposed to start today?” Brad asks.
“What are you talking about? I’ve worked here for years. I report to you. I just talked to you Friday night. Remember? I led the staff meeting.”
Brad’s expression shifts to one of slight alarm. “Um, I’m sorry, but…”
Brad’s voice is just background noise while the room around me spins.
“Ooh, gnarly sitch, my guy,” Crash says, appearing next to me. “I think I know what happened. You should go.”
“What do you mean?”
“What?” Brad asks, confused
“I’ll explain,” Crash says, disappearing.
“We can call HR,” Brad offers. “Maybe there’s just a department mix-up.”
My chest tightens and my eyes burn, so I just nod. “That’s okay. I must be confused. I’ll just go.”
“How did you get in the building? Do you have a badge?”
My stomach sinks. “Someone let me in. I’m so sorry.”
Brad looks concerned. “Is there someone we can call for you? Or maybe do you need… medical help?”
I blow out a shaky breath. Brad’s always been so nice, even to a stranger. “No, but thanks. I’m… new to the area, so I must be in the wrong building or something.”
He nods, forcing a smile. “I’ll walk you out.”
I don’t fight him, aware of the protocol. When I pass my team, they glance up but no one says anything. They don’t know me. Why don’t they know me?
Once we reach the front door, Brad pats me on the shoulder. “Good luck to you, Aster.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
I stumble outside and to my car in a complete daze. If I don’t work here, where do I work?
Crash pops into my passenger seat, but I’m too numb to be startled.
“Dude, you jumped timelines,” he says.
I turn my head slowly toward him, moving in a daze. “I don’t know what that means.”
“It happens to some society members depending on what they’ve got going on in their lives. It seems your job took up too much attention for you to deal with the Horrors, so your timeline shifted to a new one.”
“But I called Brad Friday evening. I talked to him and he knew who I was.”
Crash nods, twisting his lips for a moment. “Sometimes all the details take a little bit to fall into place. I’m guessing the timeline jump happened over the weekend. So now you do different work.”
“What work is that?”
“I looked you up at the library. Apparently you created a device that helps stressed out people sleep better. You sold it last year for a cool ten million dollars. You’re independently wealthy now.”
Blinking slowly, I try to make his words mean something. “That’s ridiculous. I have no idea how to code.”
“Not in your old timeline. Usually, much is the same but there will be noticeable differences.”
“Do I have different parents?” I ask, my throat tight.
“No, same people but they might seem a little different. Don’t be sad, Aster. Your new timeline is good.”
“How do you know?”
He looks at me like I’m an idiot.
“Right. Okay. Would’ve been great to find that out before I showed up and made a fool of myself in front of those people.”
“Give it another day or two. You’ll forget them for the most part. You might have weird memories or déjà vu moments here and there, but you’ll adapt.”
“Thanks, Crash.”
In my rearview mirror, I notice two of the security guards walking in my direction, so I start the car and take off. I’m not a threat to them, but they don’t know that. For all they know, I have a bomb or a gun and I’m unhinged.
“If I have so much money, why do I live in the same dinky apartment?”
“Apparently, you’re a frugal one and worried about showing off your wealth too much.”
“That sounds like me.” I drag my hand through my hair. “Farnsworth showed up this morning. He scolded me for forgetting my status report, but he said Chester is getting stronger quickly.”
Crash scrunches his face up. “Ugh. That’s not good news. The faster they manifest the stronger they are. He must be filled with rage.”
“Super.”
“Yeah. Was Farnsworth mad about me attaching to you?”
“No. He said you’re helpful.”
Crash grins. “I like to be useful. Oh, a society member I know located the other Horror. Celine Bradley.”
“Where was she?”
“She was at the home of her attacker. It was a grisly scene, but she returned without incident to the Below.”
“She killed her attacker? How did she work so fast?”
“Celine had skills while she was living that enhanced her abilities. Lucky for you, Chester doesn’t.”
“What kind of skills?”
“She was sensitive to the world beyond the veil. She was able to tap into that and possess a victim her attacker was keeping chained in his basement.”
I nearly drive off the road. “Fuck. Are you serious?”
“Very. The woman, using Celine’s Afterlife abilities, broke her restraints, took the machete her captor was using to torture her, and… well, made a nice tartar from his body.”
A shudder moves through me. “Sounds like he deserved it?”
“Yes, and that’s nothing compared to what awaits him in the Below. Total win, really. He was a serial killer. Celine saved a woman’s life and who knows how many others.”
“How did she end up being a Horror if she was killed by a serial killer?”
“What I heard is that she swindled people with her gifts. She actually met the man who would become her murderer during one of her scams. Rumor has it she might get bumped up to a less repressive room in the Below for her efforts to save other people.”
“Happy ending, I guess.”
Crash chuckles. “Something like that. Have you heard from the handsome Mr. Davis?”
“No. He thinks I’m insane. Or a con artist. Not sure which is worse.”
“Don’t worry. He’ll come around soon enough. Humans always try to reason away the unreasonable. It’s much easier to believe in something more tangible than ghosts and spirits, even if it doesn’t make sense. Unfortunately, there will come a day very soon when he’ll have no choice but to believe.”
“Great.”
“He’s warming up. He called to verify your employment.”
“That’s a real phone number on the card?”
“Of course not.” Crash chuckles. “I answered it so now he believes it’s a real agency. I’ve picked up a few tricks in my time.”
I nod, absorbing my new reality, as heaviness pulls me down. “I need to call my folks. Just to hear their voices.”
“But talking to them is normally unpleasant, right?”
“To say the least. My dad is better than he was, but I didn’t turn out how he wanted me to. He wanted me to be a banker or something in finance. My mom is okay, but she drinks too much so sometimes it’s like talking to a wall.”
“Sorry.”
I shrug, pulling my cell phone from my pocket. Once I stop at a light, I press their name to call.
“Hello?” My mom answers, sounding unusually clearheaded. “Aster? Is that you?”
“Yeah, Mom, it’s me. How are you?”
“Just fine, but what’s wrong? Your voice doesn’t sound like you.”
I must sound pretty bad for her to even notice. “I’m fine, Mom. A little tired is all.”
“Oh, okay. Do you want to come for lunch? I can make your favorite chicken soup and have it ready by noon.”
Her comment is so jarring, I switch lanes to pull into a parking lot. “What?”
“Chicken soup. It always made you happy as a kid.”
My eyes well with tears. “You make chicken soup?”
“Of course. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. What’s Dad doing?”
“He’s in the basement working on the remodel still. He just loves it.”
“Remodel?”
“For the grandkids. The big playroom we talked about last Christmas when Liselle announced child number three is on the way.”
“Liselle is pregnant,” I mumble as it settles over me. My sister struggled with her fertility for years. She’s on her third kid?
“They’re building that beautifully unique family. I know it was hard for me and your dad to understand when Liselle and Nance told us they were polyamorous, and then when they told us about Max, but it works for them, so who am I to judge?”
Polyamorous? Who…? What? “Max? Nance?”
“Okay, you’re starting to worry me, Aster. Your sister’s wife, Nance? Their boyfriend, Max? Are you feeling okay?”
The tears fall now. Last I knew, Liselle and Nance were pretending to be best friends even though I suspected it was much more. Nance’s parents were insanely religious and anti-LGBTQ, and Liselle was dating this loser, Tony. Now she’s married to Nance and has a man and babies?
“I’m good, Mom. I promise.”
“Do you want the soup?”
“I’ll make time to come over soon.”
“Your dad will love that.”
He will? This is a lot. “See you soon.”
“Love you, Aster.”
I fight back full-on sobbing at this point. I don’t remember the last time my mom said that to me. “Love you too, Mom.”
I end the call, wiping my eyes. I’m a multimillionaire, I have loving, accepting parents, and apparently I’m an uncle to two point five kids by my polyamorous sister. Hell of a timeline jump.