Mr. Hartley (Alternate Places Book 1) Read online

  Alternate Places: Book One

  Mr. Hartley

  P.S. Power

  Orange Cat Publishing

  Copyright 2014

  Alternate Places is a completely new series that takes place in a unique universe. It is similar in some minor respects to Other Places (the series) but takes place in a different reality scheme. No matter what you're thinking this is, it's different than that. It contains adult themes, sexual conduct and violence. This series is not recommended for those under fourteen or people that are sensitive to adult material. Reader discretion is advised.

  Chapter one

  Zack needed a job. Fast.

  More to the point, he needed money. How he got it was something he was willing to be flexible on at the moment. Each day things had gotten just a bit harder lately as things slowly ran out around the house.

  Troy, his roommate, had been great about covering the rent for the last three months. After Zack had accidentally lost his last job. Well... he didn't really lose it, he knew where it was, but the restraining order his old manager had taken out against him made it really hard to show up on time, much less collect a pay check.

  The fact that the police had sort of promised to enforce the paperwork didn't help either. Especially since he hadn't done anything wrong.

  It had occurred to him the night before that something needed to break soon. Either he got a job or... Zack didn't have anything to follow, the “or” except a sigh. Or what? He had to go live under a bridge and eat out of garbage cans? He needed to turn to a life of crime? None of those sounded like great options for him, personally, so a new job it was. It wasn't like he asked a lot from the world, just enough so that Troy wouldn't have to take care of him forever like some kind of expensive, but ultimately useless, pet.

  With a bit of effort he managed to get up at a fairly respectable hour. He'd been sleeping a lot lately, trying to conserve energy. Plus, things had gotten a little boring around the house. More than a bit. He liked to read, but when that was all he had to do, it started to grow stale. Tedious even. Sleep was a way around that, if he did enough of it.

  Trying to be a good boy, or at least not a total burden to his only friend, Zack had gotten up before noon at least. If only just barely. Then cleaned up as best he could. There was still soap, the last of a jumbo ten pack of Zest that he'd gotten on sale. Literally the final portion of it, the blue sliver had about six more washes in it, already having reached the stage where it became hard to hold onto while he tried to scrub. The deodorant had run out a few weeks before. Even the little bit of residue he could scrape from the yellow plastic dispenser with his fingers and rub under his arms had vanished. Toothpaste... that could be borrowed from Troy for this without too much guilt.

  A job meant more income for everyone, right? Zack hoped Troy would see it that way, because he really wanted clean teeth for the day. For the last week he'd just been using the brush, hoping friction and effort would make up for not having anything on it.

  A fast, but thorough, shower later, saving hot water by moving quickly so the electric bill wouldn't be too high, and he was nearly ready. Not perfect, but his average looks, which were slightly geeky and more than a little goofy looking, would never be that great. Not even if he had millions of dollars and personal attendants to do the work for him. The idea of him being rich made him laugh a bit. It wasn't a happy sound, kind of hollow and distant, but better than the pure moping of the last few weeks.

  His clothes were... not good. Shabby and dirty looking. They got washed regularly, but the laundry detergent was all Troy's and while he'd never mentioned that he needed it to keep his own clothes clean for work, not out loud, Zack worried about it, so had stopped using it a while back. Now he just washed his clothes with cold water. Even the clean ones showed too many holes and old stains for a good impression.

  “Come on Zack, get it together.” Muttering. Another bad habit that needed to be broken before it got him in trouble again. People would put up with a lot, even outright crazy sometimes, but talking to yourself tended to scare them for some reason.

  That, he knew from personal experience, was completely unfair. People weren't really worried about you talking to yourself. They just didn't want to admit that they were afraid you might be talking to someone else they couldn't see. It was a valid point, Zack had to admit. He wouldn't want to sit next to the crazy person on the bus either.

  Not that he had money for that. So...

  Bonus! There was a silver lining for sure. Okay, not a grand thing maybe, but it was something to hang on to for the day as he was hoofing it all over town. At least he had his shortcuts. Those really helped in the transportation arena. Most people preferred using the regular streets and sidewalks, but most people had cars, too.

  Zack couldn't even drive.

  Rummaging in the back of his closet he found a cream colored sweater that looked all right, if a little bit last decade in style, having a copper colored zippered collar, and some black jeans that used to be too tight but now fit a little loosely in the waist and legs. Say what you want about carbs, but a diet of all ramen for two months will help you shed the pounds, even if you don't really need to.

  His socks, the only pair of black ones he owned anymore, had a hole in the right foot. It tore open a little more as he put it on, so that it was just enough to let the big toe slip through it completely. Annoying, but not a lot he could do about it right at the moment. Really, if he was just going to be poor, Zack should learn how to sew. That and cook. More than packaged noodles. If he could ever afford them.

  A quick passing of a comb through his hair, which was too long and shaggy, but presentable enough and a last check in the mirror to make sure he didn't have anything sticking out of his nose or jammed between teeth, and he'd be set. He remembered once having walked around with a price tag, a bright orange thing, stuck to the right side of his face for three days. No one bothered to mention it to him, not until after he'd found it and taken it off. Then they told him how long it had been there. He'd been really young then, maybe eleven or so.

  He still checked for tags almost compulsively. That and anything else that might be out of place. He felt anxious and uptight for some reason. Like something was really wrong in his world. It was a thing that had gotten stronger, over the last days. Probably thanks to everything he owned fading away like it was.

  After what had happened at his last job he didn't have any reason to really expect anyone would hire him now, which explained his nerves reasonably well. Not that he'd done anything all that bad. Just pulled a fire alarm... The lack of there being a fire got him into trouble, but he'd needed to clear the building before the roof collapsed, didn't he? He saw the cracks in it, and could see it droop visibly, so he'd acted to try and save people. That's what alarms were really for, right?

  It wasn't his fault that it hadn't given way for another three days, was it?

  His manager had thought it was, accusing him of having done it somehow. Hence the restraining order. The judge hadn't believed his story about having seen those things, either. Zack knew because the man had told him that clearly. Several times. He'd even called him a liar, to his face.

  Like he'd lie about that kind of thing?

  It took a moment, and about a dozen very deep, slow breaths, but he managed to relax a bit and drive the memory of court out of his head. Then, before he could turn coward, Zack decided to head out. At this rate he'd step sideways by accident, and start seeing things again. That was never fun. Reality was hard enough without extra stuff popping into view that no one else saw.

  Troy still slept. Working nights at the Tarantula dance club tending bar made his sleep schedule a
little funny, so Zack tried to be silent, literally tiptoeing. Slowly closing the door, so it wouldn't slam or creak too loudly, he looked around the front stoop considering his options for the day.

  In the time he'd lived in this house with Troy, about a year now, having answered an ad in the paper for 'roommate wanted', Zack had learned most of the shortcuts available from the front porch. These weren't normal. He knew that, but they worked, and as long as he didn't talk about them, no one would think he was totally nuts again. Or, if they did, it wouldn't be for that reason.

  The bend in the air about a foot from the right side of the porch, just behind the thick rhododendron bushes, was a good one. It took him directly to the alley behind the dance club. If he walked around the corner of the small house, still on the right hand side, there was a shimmer in the air that led to the Kroger's about two miles away. Handy for shopping day. It was still a good walk, but not two miles, more like... a hundred meters? Something like that. About the size of a football field.

  He didn't drive of course. No one that knew him had ever even suggested he try to learn.

  When you saw things other people don't, even if only part of the time, it's was generally best not to get behind the wheel of a giant death machine. The things he saw looked too real to trust his eyes all the time. Or even most of the time. He called them Shadows, a name he'd come up with as a kid and never bothered to change, but they most often looked as solid and three dimensional as anything else ever did.

  Only to him, naturally, which was wonderful. It meant he was special after all. Unique enough to get him locked up. Other people didn't even notice what he saw most the time. The idea of trying to drive freaked him the heck out. He'd tried, years before, and nearly gave his grandfather a heart attack as he swerved and braked suddenly, trying to avoid the animals and people in the road. It would have been all right, but he kept doing it, well before they tried to cross the street, sometimes before the person even showed up at the cross walk. From then on Zack stuck to walking.

  No one cared if you looked like a freak while walking down the street, did they? Or, well, they did, but they just stared, or made fun of you. No one died because of it.

  Across the street there was a Shadow under an elm tree. At least he thought it was an elm, it had the right kind of white and smooth bark for it. That one looked interesting today for some reason. It didn't call to him in words or anything crazy like that. It just... twinkled alluringly. He'd noticed it in the past, so the shortcut was most likely going to be around later, if he found something interesting out that way.

  Sometimes shortcuts, those bends in space that he found so easy to walk through, shifted or moved on him, forcing him to find other ways to where he wanted or needed to go.

  Some of them never moved, they just hung in place, waiting for him all the time. Those were the good ones. It was a guessing game really. Would he be able to get back the way he came? Who knew? He crossed the road, carefully watching for cars, and looked at this particular Shadow close up.

  It hung in the air, like most shortcuts did, about three feet from the base of the tree. Just off the sidewalk, in the neighbor's yard. The house itself was... odd. It looked normal really, even when things got strange but it felt... Scary.

  He'd seen the man that lived there a few times. The lean man always waved and smiled at Zack. It seemed friendly and even warm, but it still scared the hell out of him at the same time. Zack made a point of avoiding him. The man felt like death. Not like a serial killer, no, those people felt different. Way less dangerous for one thing.

  The small indentation in the floating Shadow indicated the entry point from this side. Hit the entry point correctly, and anyone could use these things. He'd seen people do it on accident a couple of times. Usually they rationalized what had happened. Blaming inattention, black outs, or a memory lapse instead of seeing the reality. That they'd stepped through a hole in space to another location.

  Once he heard a man claim that aliens had abducted him and left him in the wrong place when they finished probing him. Zack saw stuff, strange things, all the time, but never aliens. And if he ever did, he doubted they'd be fixated on probing anyone. That was just... crazy. How weird did you have to be in order to dream up things like that?

  Leading with his left leg he stepped into the space and twisted, so that the next step took him not into the tree, as one might expect, but into a parking lot.

  Of a mall.

  Interesting... This could prove handy, if a job could be found near here. He didn't recognize the place, so it would be a good way away from his house. Near the heart of the industrial area, based on the look of the surrounding buildings. Most of them looked like factory set-ups with warehouses set back from the road, an eerie cream colored sameness to most of the structures, making the few light blue ones really stand out. The mall, red and brown, almost glowed compared to the other buildings.

  Of course he knew most of the area around his house pretty well by now, since walking around had been one of his main activities lately, being free, but he didn't know this place yet, not at all. Zack turned to make sure the shortcut hadn't closed behind him and gave a soft, nearly happy sigh. It was right there, just hanging around, looking stable and friendly in its light blue and black shimmer.

  The parking lot was pretty empty, with maybe a dozen cars in it. Still, he'd come for a reason, finding a job, so looking inside wouldn't hurt. There'd be work here or not, but if he didn't look, he wouldn't know, right?

  The bluish black field around the building seemed a little off putting, like his shortcuts, but more so. Bigger and deeper than any he'd seen before. So Zack made a point of ignoring it. A long time before he'd learned how important it could be to simply not pay attention to some things. A monster in the room didn't count unless everyone else ran away screaming. Even if Zack had to avoid it for his own peace of mind.

  This field, the blue-black glow around the place, reminded him of something... One of those things from his past that didn't want to be thought about. It almost made him turn around and leave on the spot, that blackish field hovering like that. Sitting in the world like a hole, not hovering at all. It scared him a little. Giving in to fear didn't get the rent paid though, and if he couldn't find something legitimate soon, he was going to have to seriously consider some kind of crime, just to get by. So he took a deep breath and started walking.

  It was job finding time.

  Zack grinned. It was nice to feel slightly confident again. Even if it was a bit fake.

  Inside the air conditioning cooled things down, a lot. On a hot summer day it would have felt really nice. In October it seemed a little chilly for the general public. Movie theaters did the same thing, counting on large audiences to warm things up. Maybe this place had a similar philosophy, counting on large crowds to provide heat? If that was their plan, he considered, looking around, they may want to rethink it.

  The mall felt barren. It lacked the spark of life you expected from such places.

  There were no families, no teenagers hanging out near the wishing fountain. No wishing fountain for that matter. Weren't those required in places like this by law? Or tradition at least.

  Just brickwork tiles leading to store fronts, with almost all of the storefronts being dark and empty. Not even barred and caged like a regular mall. The windows were just dark, or covered completely with white boards. It seemed a little sad, like the time his grandparents had taken him to the boardwalk of a coastal town they used to like to go to, to find the bad economy had closed almost everything down.

  “Well... in for a penny, I guess! I came for a job, so let's see if anyone here is hiring.” He said out loud, to no one in particular. Down the way, far enough that she wouldn't have heard him, a woman came out of her shop and looked in his direction. She didn't smile or acknowledge him in any particular way. There was just a glance and then the lady went back into her shop quickly.

  When he got closer the shop turned out to be selling F
rozen YoGurt, according to the rather brightly colored and glowing sign above the door. Not a very original name maybe, but it did make what they sold very clear, which could be a plus for business. Unless they were really a pet shop, in that case it was an awful name. Then it should be called “Frozen Pets” at least if the air conditioning was really going to be kept like it currently was all the time. Zack didn't see anyone else in the central walk way at all.

  The woman, or girl, it seemed hard to tell, due to the sense of age that warred with her youthful outer being, didn't make eye contact with him through the glass. That didn't bother him. Unless he went into her shop why should she bother? Instead, without looking up at Zack, she just pointed off behind him, to the right. It was eerie, like the girl had just pointed at something totally unrelated to him. He glanced in that direction, at a small shop in the corner he'd almost missed completely, tucked away as it was. Candles and More.

  Right there in the window hung a sign that said “Help Wanted”. He waved at the girl in the window and said “thank you” out loud. She wouldn't hear it consciously, of course. People never did. Subconsciously she'd get it. People tended to become really uneasy around you if you forgot to communicate on those deep levels, he reminded himself for about the hundredth time that week. They needed body language and other cues to feel at ease.

  It would be important when he actually applied for something. Everyone else did that stuff all the time without even being aware of it. Speaking, pointing, making faces that communicated their innermost thoughts. Everyone did it. No one really noticed either. They just lived it all the time, doing it naturally.

  He ran in the exact reverse to that. He saw it constantly, obviously, and worked to block it out most of the time even. If he forgot to try and say something on that level, make the right moves or signals, nothing came out at all. This freaked most people out, without them ever knowing what bothered them. It made it hard for him to make friends sometimes. Most of the time, really. Zack didn't lie to himself about it, he only had one friend. Troy.