Chapter 2
Borja
This is wild.
Like, on a level that makes it unclear whether I’m delusional or this is really happening.
Farnsworth seems real, in a stiff, nerdy kind of way, and I don’t know where I’d get the references to imagine all these details which means it’s probably…
Real. I’m dead. But if what Farnsworth says is true, I won’t be for long.
Sitting at the table, looking at the stack of papers and books I’m supposed to read, I consider for a moment why I want to return to the living.
I didn’t exactly have a lot going for me.
My apartment is in a great neighborhood, but it’s tiny and it’s getting harder to afford it each year.
That’s the real reason I don’t have any pets.
I’d love a dog or cat to cuddle on cold winter nights, but finances are tight and my lifestyle requires flexibility.
I have a few solid friends, but their lives make it hard to stay in touch. They all have professional jobs, families, spouses. I’m like the eternal kid they’ve all adopted. It was sobering to turn forty this year, only to die a few months later.
I tap a pen on the table, staring straight ahead for a few seconds.
I know why I’m motivated to go back. I still have the glowing embers of hope and ambition smoldering in my chest. The belief that one day I’ll figure it all out—find the right job, buy a house, fall in love—it’s still there.
Still flickering. This offer, weird as it is, is the second chance I need to continue seeking those things.
The alternative is to die with my hopes and dreams still unrealized. I can’t accept that.
I lift the first book labeled “Start Here” and flip open the cover. The beginning is a repeat of everything Farnsworth explained, but more detailed, describing what Above and Below truly mean, and pages on the different types of Horrors.
A shiver moves up my spine when I read about the worst of the worst: Category X.
Extremely rare, fortunately, but difficult to banish.
I hope I never get one of those assigned.
They probably go to really experienced Chasers.
That would make sense. I’ll probably get a jilted spouse or a haunted doll to get my feet wet.
Chuckling at the absurdity of what I’m reading, I flip to the next page and continue.
Time is an abstract concept in this place. In the quiet, dimly lit room, I can’t tell if I’ve been reading for minutes or hours, but when I finally close the last page of the final book, I lean back, stretching my arms above my head.
“Finished?”
Farnsworth’s disembodied voice startles me. I look around, finding myself still alone.
“Yes, I think so.”
“I’ll be right in.”
I look around for the door and realize there isn’t one, then I gasp as Farnsworth appears in front of me on the other side of the table.
He’s holding a tablet in one hand, and as he gazes at me, I notice for the first time the unique color of his eyes—like stormy clouds just before the rain pours down.
He’s handsome in an unusual way, dressed in his vintage style, and extremely formal in his mannerisms. His lips are pretty though, full and lush under the barely-there stubble of a mustache.
I’m curious about him. How long has he been down here?
How did he get here? And why is he in charge?
I get the sense that now would not be the best time to ask those questions though.
Farnsworth taps his tablet. “What’s the first rule for a society member?”
“The quiz is starting?”
“Indeed. Answer the question.”
Rubbing my forehead, I scan my memory for a response. “First rule. The living are on a need-to-know basis.”
“Correct. Your backstory you’ll tell your targets?”
“I’m sensitive and can sense the world beyond the veil.”
“Excellent. What special tools does a society member have in their arsenal?”
“Um, we can see spirits. Also, we can tell good from bad.” I pause, studying his face for a reaction but finding none. “We’re mostly immortal unless…” Oh, what was it?
Farnsworth tilts his head at a weird angle. “Unless?”
“Unless we’re expelled from the society.”
“How does one get expelled?” he asks.
“Breaking the rules. Failing to meet the required quota. And… there’s another one.”
“There is, yes.”
“Got it.” I snap my fingers. “Accidental trade.”
“Correct. Do you understand the trade explanation? It confuses a lot of newbies.”
I nod. “I think so. The spirits are tricky. Some may try to negotiate with me. I have to be careful with what words I use and what I agree to in moments of stress.”
“Correct.” Farnsworth narrows his eyes, studying me. “What questions do you have?”
“What’s it like at first? Do we get easy ones until we build experience?”
“No, sadly. It’s random for the most part. Well…” He pauses as his brow crinkles. “It appears random to us. We’re not privy to how the selection process works.”
“Not even you?”
“Not even me. You’ll likely get a mix.”
“How will I know what to do?”
“The handbook is very helpful.” He averts his eyes, and I get the sense that he’s holding something back. “This may be slightly overwhelming information for you, but it is my duty to provide it.”
“Okay.”
He flips his wrist, and instead of a tablet, he’s suddenly holding a manila folder. Unless I’m seeing things.
“You’ve already been assigned a Horror.”
I pull my head back as my heart flutters in my chest. “What? I just got here and I don’t know what I’m doing yet and—”
“Settle yourself,” Farnsworth says, calmly, but with a tone of authority that causes a different kind of flutter in me. “You won’t be alone. You have a partner.”
“A partner? I read that the missions are exclusively solo.”
“Not exclusively. On rare occasions, a team effort is required.”
“So that would mean I’m getting a hard one straight out of the gate.”
“I’m afraid so, yes.” He clears his throat. “This particular Horror has been banished before.”
I crinkle my face in confusion. “But I thought I read that once a Horror has been banished, it’s permanent.”
“Yes, now you see the dilemma. There must be a reason it was able to escape again.”
“This sounds way above my pay grade. I’m gonna fail on my first try.”
“No. I won’t let that happen.”
“That’s nice to hear, but I specifically remember the paragraph that says you work on a consulting basis only. You don’t directly intervene.”
“In my role as guide, that is correct.” If his skin could get even paler, I’m pretty sure it would. He looks slightly uneasy as he forces a stiff smile to his lips. “I’ll be involved in a different capacity. I’m resuming my role as a Chaser and I’ll be your partner.”
My jaw drops. “Partner?” I blink rapidly, recalling all the information I’ve read today. “But there aren’t—”
“I know. We don’t partner Chasers with guides typically. This is an unusual case.”
“I feel like you’re holding something back.”
“Not exactly. I plan to tell you, but I’m going slowly, giving you time to absorb the information.”
“Keep going.”
“The Horror is one I banished. Me. It was my assignment many moons ago.”
“Dude,” I whisper.
“Since this has not happened for millennia, the rules of engagement are different. You need a guide for a Horror this difficult, and I need an education on how the Above works now. We’ll have to work together to figure out how this happened, how to prevent it from occurring again, and how to banish the Horror once more.
” Farnsworth looks far from pleased with the situation.
“When’s the last time you were a Chaser?”
“I don’t recall. I think it was some time in the Renaissance period.”
“Renaissance? Like, Michelangelo and shit?”
“The very same, yes. Surly fellow, but most geniuses are.”
“You were alive when—you knew him?”
“Met him while he was sculpting David. Anyway…”
I blink several times. “You talked to Michelangelo?
“And many of his contemporaries when I was a Chaser.”
“When did you die? Do you remember?”
“I have the details in a book should I wish to revisit my history. I don’t.”
Nodding, I drop the subject. He clearly doesn’t want to discuss himself. “What now?”
“I’ll escort you to the Above, and we’ll read over the file and begin looking for the first target.”
“It’s not already haunting someone?”
“Its escape and detection in the Above have been noted, but all other details are murky. We have a rough idea of where it is.”
“Do we have to travel far?”
“It’s in the state of Massachusetts, which is not uncommon and likely why you were chosen given your proximity to this very haunted state.”
“Haunted, right.”
“You don’t believe?”
I shrug. “It’s creepy, for sure, lots of history there, but actual ghosts? I didn’t really buy into it.”
“You certainly will now. We should go.”
“I feel grossly unprepared for this.” I rise to my feet, stretching my neck back and forth. “But fuck it. Let’s ball.”
“Let’s ball?” Farnsworth raises a single eyebrow. “What does that mean?”
“You know… Like, let’s do it.”
“I’m afraid you’ll find me out of touch with most current vernacular.”
Chuckling, I nod. “I picked up on that. A little sheltered down here?”
“To say the least.”
“No problem. I’ll get you up to speed.”
“I have no desire or need to update my vocabulary.”
He’s so stiff and uptight it’s almost comical. “Well, if you want to blend in, we should probably discuss your clothes. It’s not that some people don’t do the vintage thing, but they stand out, you know?”
“The vintage thing?”
“You look like you just stepped off the set of Mad Men.” When his brow creases, I realize he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. “The sixties.”
“Ah, yes, the nineteen sixties. I like that time period. The music was so… lovely.”
“I’m not familiar with it.”
“What is your preferred decade of music?”
“Late nineties early two thousands hip-hop. I liked some of the grunge and emo music too.”
Farnsworth nods, but his blank expression makes it clear he’s clueless.
“I’ll play you some,” I say.
“Very well. As far as clothing is concerned, what do you suggest?”
I gesture to myself. “Jeans and t-shirts work. You’ll just blend in.”
His expression is full of horror as he looks me up and down. I’d swear he actually blanches. “Surely, there must an in between.”
“Yeah, sure. You can wear slacks and a nice shirt.”
Farnsworth snaps his fingers and a black figure appears. “Bring me some choices—slacks and a nice shirt from the current Above era.”
The figure nods then dissipates, returning just seconds later with an armful of clothes.
Farnsworth takes the clothes, spreading the garments out on the table.
There are numerous pairs of tailored slacks in different colors and a variety of shirts, from the traditional button-up to silky polo styles.
Farnsworth flips through his choices, pausing to consider before selecting a baby blue polo shirt and charcoal gray pants.
“How is this?”
“That works.”
I blink and suddenly Farnsworth is dressed in new clothes. I stumble back a step, grabbing the edge of a chair for balance. “How did you do that?”
He offers a hint of a smile. “I’m very fast. Everything is different down here.”
“Clearly.”
Farnsworth exhales, glancing around. “Well, I suppose we’d better make our way to the Above. We have work to do.
“Will it hurt?”
“No.”
Something about his delivery is less than convincing, but I guess this is my only option.
“I’m ready, I guess.”
Surprising me, Farnsworth takes my hand. Before I can react, the room blurs and I stumble closer to the man as the world spins around me. We’re dropped into pitch darkness as pressure squeezes around me for a moment, then it releases, and we’re standing in my living room.
“Whoa.”
Farnsworth releases me, glancing around my shabby apartment. He looks uncomfortable and I immediately feel defensive.
“It’s not much, but this is a great neighborhood and the rent is decent.”
Farnsworth turns to me, a placid expression on his face. “I have no judgment of you, I’m just orienting myself. It’s been quite a few years since I’ve been Above.”
“Oh. Do you need water or anything?”
“My mortal needs won’t kick in for a bit, but thank you.”
“Huh? You don’t eat or drink?”
“Not in the Revival House, but my needs will change the longer I’m up here.”
“Can I eat?”
“Yes. You weren’t dead long enough to lose it.”
“Right.” We stand awkwardly across from each other. “Do you have a place up here or do you return to the Revival House at night?”
Farnsworth’s jaw drops for a moment as he blinks rapidly. “Ah, a detail without a solution.”
“Does that mean no?”
“Correct.”
“Oh, uh, well, you can stay here, of course. I only have one bedroom, but the couch isn’t bad.”
Farnsworth directs his gaze to the couch that has seen better days. “We’ll make do. Thank you for your hospitality.” He walks to the wall closest to the front door and looks at the calendar on the wall. “Two thousand twenty-five. October. Very interesting.” He glances at me. “We’re in Cambridge?”
“Yes.”
“Cambridge is famous for Harvard, yes?”
“Yep. MIT too.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“Not important.” I walk to the window and peer outside. It looks just like it did when I was in the car with my friends earlier. My back pocket vibrates and I pull my phone out. My friend Nico’s name is on the screen. “Hey, Nico.”
“Hey, man, sorry to cancel at the last minute, but I got called into work at the hospital. We might try again on Wednesday.”
“Cancel?”
“Yeah, the trip to Salem? Remember?”
“Sorry, yeah. I was distracted. No one’s going, then?”
“Nope. Jenny didn’t want to go anyway, so Matty said we’d just reschedule. Cool?”
“No problem. Go save lives.”
Nico chuckles. “Will do.”
I end the call and look at Farnsworth, who is watching me. “That was my friend. He canceled the trip we were taking when the truck hit us.”
“Alternate timeline. You and your friends live.”
“The craziest thing is that Jenny, Nico’s girl, didn’t want to go today because she had a bad feeling, but she gets those a lot, and usually nothing comes of it, so we convinced her it would be okay. She was right this time.”
He nods. “Perhaps she has gifts in the making.”
“I won’t discount her intuition again, that’s for sure.”
Farnsworth moves to the couch, sitting down and producing a tablet out of nowhere. He taps the screen, his brow creased as he reads over the page. He lifts his head abruptly.
“There’s an antique shop in town. The Horror may be there. We should go.”
Guess we’re jumping right in. “Let’s do this.”