Keeper of Time (Wealth of Time Series, Book 4)

by Andre Gonzalez

  Chris nodded. “Okay, fair enough. Let’s do this.”

  Chester grinned and picked up the syringe from the nightstand. “Lie in the center of the bed.”

  Chris did as instructed, scooting from the foot of the bed, kicking off his shoes, and allowing himself to sink into the exact middle of the queen-sized bed. He lay with his hands crossed on top of his stomach.

  Chester got on his knees and crawled toward Chris. “Let me have your arm, please.”

  Chris stuck out his left arm, mind running rampant as his life was on the verge of changing forever. He fought away the tremble that tried to creep into his limbs, focusing on his breathing and closing his eyes.

  “Perfect,” Chester said, grabbing Chris’s arm. “Okay, just a little poke like any shot. Three . . . two . . .”

  Chris felt the syringe bite through his flesh, his brain wincing at the sharp pain, while his body remained composed. Chester emptied the fluid into the vein, and the process was finished as soon as it started.

  “Easy as pie,” Chester said with a grin as he admired the empty syringe. “I’m going to wait with you about ten minutes—that’s how long until you’ll start feeling the symptoms. Once those kick in, I’ll know the job has been done successfully. Now, we just wait. In the meantime, I’m going to make sure my bags are packed and dispose of this needle.”

  “Okay, thanks,” Chris said, his eyes still closed. He was scared to open them, fearful of what waited on the other side of the injection, anxious for the pending pain to come his way in just a few precious minutes. His heart raced and he didn’t know if it was a side effect, or just his own panic. Perhaps a little of both.

  Breathe, he told himself. Don’t panic. This is the life you’ve worked so hard for. Man up and deal with your transformation, because it’s going to be worth it. More than anything else you’ve done up to this point.

  His brief pep talk helped his nerves settle and he opened his eyes to stare at the white ceiling. His body locked, leaving him unable to move, but he didn’t feel paralyzed. His mind was still sharp, and he could do things like wiggle his toes and fingers.

  “How are you feeling?” Chester asked as he stepped back to the bedside.

  “I think it’s starting – I can’t move.”

  Chester grinned. “Yes, that is the start. Okay, mentally brace yourself. It’s going to feel like a tingle at first, and then it will burn.”

  “I feel the tingle,” Chris cried. His body gradually tingled across its every inch, the sensation of his foot falling asleep and having to shake it to get the blood flowing again.

  “Okay, ease into it. Welcome it. This is literally the blood of gods working its way into your system.”

  “Oh, fuck!” Chris screamed through gritted teeth. His face turned bright red, veins bulging from his forehead and neck as he looked like someone trying to lift something far too heavy. “It burns! It burns!”

  The inside of his body felt engulfed in flames. From his toes to his fingertips, his entire body raged with the fiery blood of Chronos and past Keepers.

  “Okay, Chris. It sounds like everything is working as planned. Remember, forty-eight hours and it’s all over. When you feel normal again, you’ll officially be our new Keeper of Time. I’m going to head back home now – I’ll be sure to check in with you as soon as you’re feeling well again.”

  Chester’s words fell on deaf ears. Chris heard him, but had no mental capacity to actually listen. Besides, his ears rang with a subtle burning sound of their own, much like they do after a night out at a loud concert.

  The burning crept into his stomach and planted itself there like a stubborn weed, making him curl into a fetal position as he rocked from side to side. He clenched his entire face: jaw locked shut, eyes squeezed tight like he was walking through a sandstorm. He never saw Chester leave because of this – he simply heard the man’s voice fade away until it was no more.

  With all sense of time gone, Chris writhed around on the bed like a crippled insect, begging to be put out of his misery, hoping the other side would be worth it.

  25

  Chapter 25

  Despite becoming the new Keeper of Time, Chris never had a true appreciation for time itself. Sure, he’d been on missions to the past where he’d spent decades, only to return home to find ten minutes pass in real life. Perhaps that made him take time for granted. How could one truly enjoy their precious moments on Earth if life dragged along slower than a snail in molasses?

  But he now learned the value of forty-eight hours. Two entire days of being essentially chained to his bed, head on the verge of exploding, body feeling like it had a kidney stone trying to pass through its entirety. Nausea and sweat. Hot flashes, chills, and furious coughing attacks all complemented a trembling so intense he believed he had suffered through multiple seizures.

  And Chester hadn’t lied. The hotel staff never so much as knocked on his door while he was in there looking death straight in the face. Thinking back, that was obviously for the best. Anyone who might have entered and found him would have surely called an ambulance, and who knows what they would have done or discovered in his blood tests.

  He kept waiting for the pain to dwindle, but it never did. It remained elevated and steady, a steady climbing of sorts, until Wednesday afternoon when the pain simply vanished. Chris lay in bed, his muscles sore from two days of flexing and clenching through the bouts of pain, the sheets cool against his skin from the buckets of sweat they had absorbed. He hardly noticed these nuances as relief flooded his mind. Relief it was over. Relief his new life was ready to begin.

  He hadn’t slept for those entire two days, an impossible task considering the level of pain, yet he didn’t feel an ounce of fatigue as he rolled over and jumped out of bed. He expected his legs to be weak, but they caught him and his balance with no issue. He expected hunger, but felt full.

  Chris shuffled to the bathroom, anxious for a look in the mirror to see how raggedy and beat-up he looked, but he appeared completely normal with his usual skin tone and bright blue eyes. He even looked a bit younger, the dark circles under his eyes no longer there.

  “Impressive,” he said to himself, smiling to check his teeth.

  The room’s telephone blared, causing Chris to jump and gasp as he ran toward the nightstand, knowing it had to be Chester.

  “Hello?”

  “Chris!” Chester cried out. “I’m glad to hear your voice. How are you feeling?”

  “Well, I just became better not too long ago—that was the worst time of my life.”

  Chester chuckled. “It’s awful, but worth it. Now you have the rest of your life ahead. Invincible and ready to lead the world into the future.”

  Just hearing those words made the last two days seem like a distant memory. Almost. “I hope so. What am I supposed to do now?”

  “I love how eager you are. Most people take the day off to relax and gather themselves, but you’re ready to go. I knew I made the right choice. I’ve got a jet waiting to fly you to my house in Portland. Whenever you’re ready—and please do take your time—there is a driver waiting for you outside. He’s in a black Camaro and is getting paid by the hour to sit there, so the longer you take, the happier he’ll be. When you land, there will be another driver waiting to bring you to my house. Once you arrive, we can begin your official initiation as the Keeper of Time.”

  “Okay, that should work. Is there anything I need to do?”

  “Not at all, just bring yourself and your usual insatiable curiosity. Today’s Wednesday—in case your brain is so rattled that you forgot. I have all day Thursday and Friday planned for you on my calendar to get you all caught up. Remember, we don’t have to sleep or take breaks. Be prepared to learn for forty-eight straight hours.”

  Hearing ‘forty-eight hours’ spoken aloud made his stomach do a flip. “Great. I look forward to it. I’m definitely ready to get out of this room, so I’ll be heading down to that car in a few minutes.”

  “Perf
ect. I’ll see you later this evening.”

  They hung up and Chris packed his few items before heading downstairs.

  * * *

  The flight took a little over four hours, leaving Chris with all the time he really needed to mentally recover from the trauma of the past two days. He wanted to sleep, as he normally did on long flights, but his mind was too excited for what awaited when he landed. The invincibility must have settled in because he felt like he could do no wrong.

  The jet was lavish, from the tables and furniture, to the sparkling dishes and silverware. A waitress served him a gourmet burger and glass of champagne to celebrate. Chris still wasn’t hungry, but devoured the lunch just the same.

  After he landed, the drive was about twenty minutes from the airport, away from the city and into the woods of Oregon where tall trees hid a covert Tudor home. The brick house stood two levels tall with massive windows, long white curtains drawn for privacy. A cobblestone pathway split the bright green front lawn. Thick bushes ran along the sides of the home, leading to a backyard out of sight.

  Chris stood on the front pathway, birds chirping their evening tunes while the sun cast an orange glow across the front lawn. The steel double doors swung inward, and out stepped Chester, his grin wide, hands on his hips. “Come on in!” he shouted.

  Chris walked up the pathway, his suitcase rattling along the stones. “This is quite the place you’ve got.”

  Chester looked up the massive house behind him and shrugged. “It’ll do. You’ll get to create a house of your own, or buy one if you’d really like, but we’ll get into those details later. Come in.”

  Chester stepped aside and held out an arm to guide Chris into his not-so-humble abode. They entered to a pristine foyer, complete with a rack for shoes and jackets. Hardwood flooring glistened under the bright lights as Chris gawked around. Portraits hung on the walls of Chester with famous figures from President Kennedy, the entire Rat Pack, and even a shot with Marilyn Monroe.

  “You’ll get your own collection of these over time,” Chester remarked, continuing down the hallway and toward the living room that waited with two cups of steaming coffee.

  Chris hurried to follow him, kicking off his shoes as he slid along the floor in his socks.

  “We have to jump right into things, I hope you don’t mind. But there is a ton for us to cover,” Chester said, sitting down on a plush couch. A coffee table stood centered between that couch and another across the way, where Chris sat.

  “Not a problem.”

  “Perfect. First question: how are you feeling?”

  “I can’t lie, I feel incredible.”

  Chester nodded as if expecting this response. “Glad to hear it. And the beauty is that it never fades. You will feel this way all the time. You no longer will hunger for food, but rather emotions. We believe that either Igor or Chronos were depressed men – maybe both of them were – but it seems the only emotions that satisfy our hunger are sadness and anger. Fear is also a delicious treat—more of a dessert. This will be what you consume now.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “That’s the best part, there’s not much to understand. You’ll know when you’re hungry—it will feel like your chest is hollow, sort of like the sensation when you lose a loved one. When this happens, you need to find somewhere with people experiencing either sadness or anger. I’ll usually stop by a funeral or cemetery, where the grief is so high. Once there, you’ll be able to physically see these emotions present in the air, floating around like pixie dust from the bodies of those experiencing the emotions. You just breathe it in, and that’s how you feed yourself.”

  Chris scrunched his face in disbelief. “Okay. How often does this need to happen?”

  “About once a month. But the great thing is you can store a surplus. Your soul will feel satisfied, but you can keep on breathing in those emotions and stock up. Sometimes I’ll travel back to the Depression and just walk around the streets. There’s so much sadness and anger there, I once made it three whole months off of one feeding.” This was the most absurd shit Chris had heard, but he nodded his way through the conversation. “Tonight I’ll be taking a vial of your blood now that you are the newest Keeper. We store this in case something ever happens to you, we’ll have the most recent blood for a successor.”

  “I thought I’m invincible?”

  “You are, which brings me to my next point. The invincibility lies within your blood. So technically, if someone were to drain your body of all its blood, you would die. Something we have started doing is injecting a single drop of blood into a trusted person’s body. A single drop isn’t enough to give them any of your abilities, but that lone drop is that much of your blood residing somewhere besides your own body. Think of it as an insurance policy, so make a decision before Monday on who you would like that lucky host to be. As long as your host is living and well, you can guarantee there is no chance of you dying.”

  “I’ll inject it into my daughter. I think I can convince her.”

  “I thought you two had a rocky relationship? We don’t advise giving it to someone who might hold it over your head. If she decides to turn on you one day, you’re out of luck.”

  “She hasn’t forgiven me for killing her mother—I don’t blame her. But I think she’s starting to see the light out of that whole mess. My new position will be even more cause for her to want to help. I can now pretty much guarantee her a life of whatever she wants.”

  “It’s a grand feeling, isn’t it?” Chester said with a grin. “My best memories as Keeper are definitely taking care of my family and close friends. I had two sons—they had no interest in joining the Revolution despite my numerous recruitment attempts. I still sent them on the most lavish of trips around the world.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “They both passed away. One was in a nasty car accident, and the other caught a pneumonia bug that took him.”

  Chris shook his head, unable to imagine such a tragedy happening to his daughter. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “It’s no worry. I sometimes go back in time to when they were little and just watch them run around the yard without a care in the world. One of the luxuries of this lifestyle, I suppose. But back to you. We know who you’re giving blood to, and that’s great. Have you thought about where you’d like to set up your main living quarters? That’s what I love about the Revolution, they let the Keeper choose where he would like to lead from. You can choose anywhere in North America.”

  “On the beach in Costa Rica?”

  “If that’s your thing, yes.”

  Chris laughed. “Not really, I just wanted to know your response.”

  “The world is your oyster – well, the continent.”

  “I’ll have to think about it. Am I stuck with where I choose?”

  “Absolutely not. You can do whatever you want. There’s not a single person in the world who can tell you otherwise. We’ve had some Keepers change their locations during their reign, that’s completely fine.”

  “Good to know.”

  Chester reached under the coffee table and dropped a heavy three-ring binder on top. “Those are the big picture matters I wanted to discuss up front. More will come up, but let’s dive in—we have a long two days.”

  Chris’s eyes bulged at the sight of the binder that was at least four inches thick, papers and tabs bulging out of the sides. The work seemed daunting up front, but by next week, he’d have total control and abilities he’d never dreamed of.

  26

  Chapter 26

  When Monday morning arrived, Chris woke in his own bed in Colorado Springs, a sense of purpose consuming him. The past week had vanished in a blur. They had indeed completed the full orientation program at Chester’s home by late Friday night, and Chris spent all day Saturday mentally relaxing in Chester’s massive backyard where a hammock stretched between two oak trees.

  On Sunday they had flown to Chris’s hometown together on Chester’
s private jet. They chatted about the overall state of the Revolution, the type of information that wasn’t necessarily pertinent to their orientation, but still needed to be discussed before Chester officially handed over the reins.

  Overall, at least in Chris’s opinion, he was entering a fairly easy time for the Revolution. There were no fires to put out, no drama to settle, and only the future to worry about.

  They had rented out the biggest hotel in Colorado Springs, the Broadmoor, a resort complete with a golf course and hundreds of rooms for their guests from all over the continent, but more importantly, it had a row of ballrooms that they opened up to host 3,000 guests.

  “Be ready for the biggest show of your life,” Chester had said. “We call it the ‘Transition’, and there will be thousands of people there to support you—and oppose. Quite different from the little gathering we had in Austin.”

  “Oppose? I haven’t even done anything yet.”

  “I know. We try to stay away from politics, but people still get stuck in their ways and refuse to support anyone who wasn’t their candidate of choice. It’s childish, but it’s life, I suppose. Don’t dwell on it. People come around in time if they like what you’re doing.”

  “Didn’t you say no one wants change?”

  Chester grinned. “You listen well. And yes, there is a majority who are going to resist the changes you want to bring, but they’ll have no choice. They either need to adapt or leave the organization. And trust me, not a soul on Earth is planning to do that.”

  Chris reflected on these words as he dressed in the morning, slipping on what would become his signature all-black suit. You’re in charge now, he thought as he looked into the mirror. No matter what happens, these people are dedicated to their lives as time travelers. That will never change.