The Lily Harper 8 Book Boxed Set
Page 3
“What does retrieving these souls mean?”
He started rolling the stress ball against his desk. “We’d start you with one assignment, or one soul. With the help of a guide, you’d go after that soul and retrieve it.” He paused. “Are you interested?”
I exhaled. Did I want to die and live the next century in Shade? The short answer was no. Did I want to be a soul-retriever? Not really, but I guessed it was better than dying.
“Okay, I guess so.”
“We could start you out and see how you do. You can always decide not to do it.”
“But then I’d die?”
“I’m afraid that’s the alternative.”
“Why can’t you let me go back to my old life?”
He shook his head. “It’s not possible. Your soul has already left your body. Once the soul departs, the body goes bad within three seconds. Unfortunately, you are way past your three seconds. That and the coroners have already pronounced you dead and the newspapers are preparing your obituary. Your mother was notified, as well.”
Mom has been notified … Something hollow and dreadful stirred in my gut and started climbing up my throat. I gulped it down, hell-bent on not getting hysterical. Tears welled up in my eyes and I furiously batted them away.
“I never got to say good-bye,” I managed as I tried to rack my brain to remember the last conversation I’d had with my mother, the only person (besides Miranda) with whom I was close. Truly, my mother and Miranda were my best friends. And right about now, both of them had to be traumatized.
Jason nodded, but it wasn’t a nod that said he was sympathizing. It was a hurried nod. “I’m sorry; but you need to make a decision soon. Time is of the essence and Shade will be calling soon to find out if you’re joining them.”
I forced my tears aside and focused on his angular face, trying to ignore my grief so I could come to a decision which would completely change the course of my life … or AfterLife. “So, if I take this job and choose to live, I can’t do so in my own body?”
It wasn’t like I was thrilled with my appearance: I was short, overweight and plain. I was the woman whom no one ever noticed—the one always behind the scenes. I’d had one major boyfriend in my life and that had lasted all of two months. Yep, anyway I looked at it, I was basically hopeless—a twenty-two-year-old workaholic virgin with nothing but the redundancy of a stress-inducing job to force me to wake up each morning. But, I was me, and the idea of coming back in another body left me cold. No pun intended.
“You would not be able to come back as yourself,” Jason said. “You’d have to come back in another body.”
I glanced down at myself. As far as I could tell, I still looked the same. “But, I’m in my body now.”
“You’re here in spirit only.”
The phone on his desk rang and he faced me with impatience etched in his eyes and mouth. “That’s probably Shade calling.”
He picked up the phone. “Jason Streethorn, AfterLife Enterprises, how can I help you?
After a few nods, he glanced at me. “Yes, she’s here. She’s just deciding what she wants to do. Yes, I understand it’s been over an hour.”
He muffled the end of the phone with his palm and faced me again. “You need to decide now.” He faced the phone again. “Yes, I’ve informed her. You’re going to send someone over within the hour?”
“Wait,” I interrupted. “Tell them I’ll take the job. I want to live.”
“So bitter is it, death is little more."
Dante’s Inferno
TWO
Jason Streethorn hung up the phone and gave me a big smile. I figured he wanted me to make this decision—to become an employee of AfterLife Enterprises. And me? Well, even though the words just sort of vomited from my mouth, I wasn’t sure I’d made the right decision. Frankly, I’d just come to terms with the idea that I was dead, and this wasn’t some prolonged and awful dream. And then there was the part about my mom having just been notified of her only child’s demise.
More than anything else, I wanted to tell her how much I loved her. Reassure her that I was going to be fine …
I turned away from Jason, feeling tears welling in my eyes. I focused on the pristine white of the office walls, trying to talk my tears into retreating. The fact that there were no pictures, no smudges or spots of any kind to interrupt the milky white of the walls suddenly infuriated me. How could someone spend the majority of his time in a room that looked this unlived in? I scanned the wall, searching for some sort of flaw—an insect, a scratch, anything! But there was nothing.
Jason clapped his hands together and I begrudgingly faced him again.
“We have much to do,” he said, spearing his tongue against his teeth a few times like he was trying to suck out something left over from lunch.
“Did you have a will?” he asked.
“No,” I said with a shrug. “All I ever owned was my car.” And I think I was overdrawn in my bank account. Overdraft charges? Ha! I got the last laugh on them.
Jason nodded. “Okay, then that makes things a bit easier. We’ll just open you a new account.”
“A new account?”
“Yep,” he nodded emphatically. “This is the best part … the benefits for working for AfterLife Enterprises. You’ll get company housing, a company car, a company credit card and company allowance.”
Wow, this wasn’t sounding half bad … well, if I could get past the being dead part.
“First things first, we need to find you a new name.” He turned to his computer and started typing like a madman. I watched the screen as a database of names popped up. He moused through them so quickly, I felt like I was reading a book on fast forward.
“A new name? Why can’t I …” I didn’t finish my sentence before realizing the answer. Lily Harper was dead. Lily Harper was dead.
I felt a pang of nausea churn my gut. It makes no sense to worry about things you have no control over because there's nothing you can do about them, I told myself, recalling Wayne Dyer’s advice again. There’s nothing you can do about them …
“You can keep your first name, but as for your second…” Jason’s voice grew quiet as he hit “enter” and the database stopped spinning. One name was highlighted among the rest.
“O’Shaughnessey,” Jason announced.
“What? I’m Irish now?”
He laughed. “Well, your name is.”
“Lily O’Shaughnessey,” I said, trying out the flavor on my tongue. “I guess it sort of has a nice ring to it.”
“Hilda will take care of your new legal documents while we finish up the rest of this. By the time we’re done here, you’ll have a new birth certificate, social security card, driver’s license, passport and green card, if you require one.” He paused and glanced at me. “But more on that later.”
I’d never had a passport before. That was sort of cool. But as to the green card …
“Okay,” Jason said, turning to face me again. “Now, where you’re going to live … We have corporate housing all over the world.”
“I want to live abroad,” I said quickly, suddenly wanting this new life of mine to be totally new. If I was going to start fresh, I didn’t want any reminders of my old life. I didn’t think I had the emotional strength to handle it. Instead, I wanted to embark on a completely new voyage, leaving everything I knew far far behind.
“Okay,” he said as he brought up what looked like a real estate multiple listings page.
“So, how does this corporate housing work? Do I have to pay rent?”
Jason didn’t turn around, but continued searching through the listings. “No, we cover your room and board. We give you whatever you require, and in return, you work a few jobs during the year for us.”
“A few jobs during the year?” I argued. “At that rate, it will take me years to relocate the ten souls!”
Jason shrugged. “So take on more jobs.” Then he glanced over at me again. “Besides, you won’t age.”
He shook his head, still intently scanning through the house listings. “You’ll get an allowance, but not a salary. The allowance is to cover things you can’t use a credit card for. Just think of it as a bank account that maintains a high balance.”
Hmm … a consistently full bank account didn’t sound half bad. Sort of like repeatedly passing “Go” in Monopoly. “So, do I use a debit card?”
He nodded. “Yes, and you also get a corporate credit card. Whatever you need, you can use one or the other, though we prefer you use the credit card—it’s easier to sort out any fraudulent charges.” Jason stopped typing and turned back to me, shifting the screen so we both could view it. “Okay, looks like we’ve got several properties available. We’ve got a penthouse in Barcelona, Spain; a cabin in Quebec, Canada; and an elaborate apartment in Edinburgh, Scotland; just to list the first three …” he started scrolling for more listings, but my mind froze on the apartment.
“This one in Scotland,” I started.
Jason clicked and pulled up the listing. I’m not sure the word “apartment” did it justice. From what I could see, it was at the top of a four- or five-story brick building, overlooking a vast sea of green grass, scored by walking paths. Hugging both sides of the paths were mature and densely foliated trees that acted as umbrellas over the walkways.
“A charming apartment facing the Meadows of Edinburgh,” Jason read. “Conveniently located near the city center, the Meadows is one of the nicer areas of Edinburgh. Enjoy free golf,” he glanced up at me, adding, “apparently, you just bring your own clubs and balls.” Then he looked at the listing again. “With views of the Edinburgh Castle and Arthur’s Seat.”
“What’s Arthur’s Seat?” I asked.
Jason shrugged and read through the rest of the listing himself before facing me again. “Apparently, it’s a well-known mountain that you can also hike.”
“Oh,” I said as I started fidgeting. The weight of this decision suddenly dawned on me. Was I really going to move so far away? To another country? Granted, Scotland wouldn’t be too bad a location—I mean, they did speak English there, and I had to admit I was fond of men in kilts. Plus, Braveheart was my all-time favorite movie …
“As to the apartment, itself,” Jason continued, “it is two bedrooms, two bathrooms, has a view of the Meadows; and apparently, each unit has its own private garden. It features: wood floors, high ceilings with crown molding, fireplaces in the living room and the master bedroom, tile in the kitchen and bathrooms ...” He paused for a moment or two. “You know, you don’t have to live in an apartment. We have homes available as well.”
But I didn’t need a lot of space. I had no interest in pomp and circumstance. “The apartment sounds perfect,” I said in a small voice.
Jason glanced at me. “Want it?”
I nodded dumbly and he clicked a red button that said “reserve.” Then he exited the webpage. He leaned back in his chair and gave me a smile, as if waiting for something. Suddenly, what sounded like a vacuum emanated from the top of the long, plastic tube beside his computer. Before I had time to take another breath, something metallic dropped down the tube, landing on Jason’s desk.
“Two sets of house keys,” he said, handing them to me.
I just stared at the gold keys in my open palm, wondering if I was going to wake up. This was just too … unbelievable.
“Now, we have some corporate cars available, if you’re interested. Or you can simply go out and buy your own.”
“What have you got?” I asked, feeling more like I was asking what flavors of ice cream he had available, not what vehicles he had in his fleet.
He pulled up another webpage and pored through a long list. It looked like the pages of Autotrader. “We have quite a selection. What do you like?”
I shrugged as I remembered my reliable Volvo. If only it could see me now. “Maybe an Audi?” I shrugged, hoping it wasn’t too much to ask for; then something dawned on me. “Don’t they drive on the other side of the road in Scotland?”
Jason glanced at me quickly. “Yes, but it won’t take you long to get used to it. Those damned roundabouts, though, now they’re another story.” Then he chuckled at his own joke, which wasn’t funny at all.
“Okay,” I said with a hesitant smile.
“We have eighty Audis on file with the steering wheel on the right-hand side. Can you be more exact as to which model you’d prefer?”
Hmm, I didn’t know anything about cars. All I knew was Audis were nice, but as far as models? I was clueless. “Um, I don’t really know. I’m not much of a car person.”
He smiled and shook his head, like it was a shame. “Okay, SUV?”
I did like SUVs. They were big … and safe. And safety was suddenly more important to me now than it ever had been before. “Yeah, an SUV sounds perfect.”
He hit “enter” and a list of SUVs popped up. “How about the first one?” Jason asked. “It’s not too big to maneuver, and lots of women buy them.”
Jason clicked and a silver Audi popped up. I read the headline: “Audi Q5” and paused to consider it. It wasn’t too boxy or overpowering. “I like it.”
He clicked “reserve” then waited for the keys to pop out of the plastic tube. Once they arrived, he handed them to me.
“Now comes the truly fun part,” he said with a grin that reminded me of the Cheshire cat. “You get to choose your new body.”
Despite Jason’s apparent delight, this was the part I liked least—it just seemed so weird, to be picking someone else’s body, to suddenly look like someone else.
“Now, this is going to be tougher than choosing the car or the house because you’ll have exactly three seconds to make your decision.”
“Three seconds?” I repeated, my voice laced with doubt. I’d never been good with deadlines.
Jason nodded. “Yes, all the pictures you’re about to see are people who are going to die within seconds. The body, once the soul leaves it, remains inhabitable for about three seconds; so you’ll have to act quickly. Then once you decide, we have about two seconds to give you the animation shot. After that, you’ll be good to go.”
“Okay, hold it,” I started, my stomach feeling as if it just dropped to my toes. “The animation shot?”
Jason nodded. “Yes, when the body you choose dies, it has a couple of seconds before it arrives at our morgue unit here. We’ll take your soul into a syringe and then inject it into the body before it starts to deteriorate.”
I could feel my brain starting to pound … sort of like an ice cream headache. “But the body is still on Earth, right?”
Jason nodded. “A clone. It would be a very difficult thing if the body disappeared from the scene of its death altogether. So we just replace the real body with a fake one—it looks exactly the same as the original, made of flesh and blood.”
“You replace it? And no one suspects anything? Don’t they see you replacing it?”
Jason shook his head. “No, they see nothing. It happens in a split second, like magic, I guess you could say.”
I couldn’t seem to get past the fact that my entire identity could be sucked up into a little vial. That, plus I was never good around needles. “Okay, let’s go back to the part about sucking up my soul into a syringe and then injecting it into the new body … You haven’t ever screwed this part up in the past, I hope?” I could just see myself coming back as a chimp.
“It’s virtually mistake-free. No need to worry,” he said with what I hoped was a genuine smile. “Now, time’s wasting. Let’s see what bodies are available for you.”
I shook my head and narrowed my gaze on his screen, trying not to quantify the words “virtually mistake-free.”
“How tall do you want to be?”
Okay, so I could kinda, sorta see how he could describe this part as fun. I mean, when
did you ever get to build the perfect you? I turned my thoughts to the height question, but didn’t have to ponder it long. I was short, so I wanted to be tall. “Um, how about five foot eight, with long legs?”
“Okay, let’s give you a thirty-two-inch inseam.” He entered my desired height into the proper field and made a note about my inseam. “Great. Now, how much do you want to weigh?”
Well, not as much as I did now, that was for sure. But I also didn’t want to be stick thin. “How about one hundred forty?”
Jason nodded. “Okay, what size breasts do you want?”
Where my bust was concerned, all I could think about was the fact that throughout high school, the boys called me Billy instead of Lily. I wanted some serious boobs. “How about a thirty-six, D?”
Jason gave me a smile. “Okay, done. What hair and eye color do you want?”
And suddenly it occurred to me that there had to be something about the new me that resembled the old me. “Let’s do dark red hair and green eyes.”
“And age?”
That was easy. I didn’t want to be any older than I already was. “Twenty-two.”
Jason entered my final specification and clicked “submit.” Instantly, about three hundred thumbnail-sized photos of women sprouted up.
“Okay, now scan through these profiles and decide which one you like,” he ordered.
He stood up and motioned for me to take his seat. I did so and grabbed the mouse with a trembling hand. “This is final, right? I mean, I can’t change my mind later?”
He nodded and leaned against his desk. “Yeah, no changing your mind. And once you click on a profile, you have a few seconds to make your decision.”
Phew. That was a lot of pressure.
“Okay,” I said as I started scanning. Waves of faces danced before me and all I could do was quickly focus on each one, trying to decide if it was a face that I wanted to replace my own. If I hoped my specifications would only yield attractive people, I was wrong. I was introduced to buck teeth, wall-eyes, voluminous noses and ski-jump chins. I gulped, thinking I could end up less attractive than I already was.