»be« by BASTEI ENTERTAINMENT

Digital original edition

»be« by Bastei Entertainment is an imprint of Bastei Lübbe AG

Copyright © 2018 by Bastei Lübbe AG, Schanzenstraße 6-20, 51063 Cologne, Germany

Written by Caroline Dunford as Jay Mason

Edited by Allan Guthrie

Project management: Kathrin Kummer

Cover design: Guter Punkt, München | www.guter-punkt.de

Cover illustrations © shutterstock: margo_black; © thinkstock: Marcobarone | Ig0rZh | ahunjet | akvlv | Sirichoke | RobertoDavid

eBook production: Jilzov Digital Publishing, Düsseldorf

ISBN 978-3-7325-3600-9

www.bastei-entertainment.com

1. Am I in a B movie?

With the fall came the new college year. Alex stood brushing her long curly black hair. Her reflection in the mirror told her she’d changed. She had actually chosen what she would wear today rather than just grabbing what was clean from her closet. Her hair was neater — she drew the line at wasting time straightening it. And she had invested in mascara for the first time in her nineteen and a half years. The results were quite alarming. After the initial smudges that she had to scrub off while she was getting used to applying the tiny wand, she now had what looked like giant spiders erupting from her eyelids. She put the brush down and checked the image in the magazine she had been copying. Yes, that was what she was supposed to look like. Did boys really like girls with arachnid-enhanced faces? Weird, thought Alex, but then so much about this term was weird. Besides, she wasn’t interested in any particular boy. She just wanted to be more normal this term. No way would she be auditioning for cheerleader at her community college, but a nice, ordinary pretty girl that no-one would look at strangely would do for her. This year, she vowed, she would not only keep her identity as a paranormal investigator properly secret, she would also keep well away from doing anything weird around college.

She picked up her college bag with its shiny new badges she’d bought off the internet, and slung it across her chest. She headed downstairs to find her mother, hair pulled sharply back from her face in a flawless French plait and wearing a business power suit, waiting by the door. “Goodness,” said Irene Morgan, “I barely recognise you.”

“I take it that’s a good thing?” said Alex, trying hard to keep the edge out of her voice.

“I think your mother means you look tidy,” said a voice from behind her. “Something that has long eluded me.” Alex turned to see her father, Lewis, shambling over. As ever he was dressed like a refugee from the eighties in a baggy brown corduroy suit with a colourful stripped jumper underneath.

“Oh, I’ve given up on you,” said Irene. “And Alex doesn’t look tidy. She looks nice. She looks like a proper girl. Although it would be nice to see you in a dress for once, Alex, rather than jeans.”

“Be serious, Irene,” said Lewis, “no one wears dresses in college.”

“I did,” answered Alex’s mother haughtily.

“Yeah, you went to Oxford. Alex is at the local community college. We’re lucky they wear shoes.”

Alex saw her mother shudder. She knew her father was trying to help, but it felt like yet another dig at her failure to reach the academic heights that both her scientist parents had achieved.

“Car,” said her mother. “Or we will be late. Can we drop you, Alex?”

“No, it’s fine,” said Alex. “I enjoy the walk.”

Her mother smiled thinly and held open the front door. Alex gave them both a quick grin and went out. She didn’t hear the door close behind her, but she refused to turn round. Ever since she had what her mother referred to as “another little wobble”, both her parents had been watching her like hawks. She walked down the path slowly, knowing it was petty, but also hoping it would make her parents late for their work at the Center.

Everyone came to the first day of the new academic year; the corridors were bursting with students hailing friends they hadn’t seen since the start of the summer and a large number unfamiliar excited faces, who Alex realised with a start, were the new first years. Of course, being a community college there were people of all ages, including mums, who never given education a real go, returning now their kids were old enough to be in school. Alex knew from experience that the corridors would never again be as busy as today and that many of these people would never be seen again. However, the latter was generally due to the shock of finding out that even community college required students to complete a certain work load rather than any paranormal phenomena.

In front of the large notice board came the worst press of people. Alex, who hated crowds, tried to relax and let herself go with the flow. Literally. As she passed the notice board one announcement caught her attention. Wanted: Walk on … and then her attention was torn away by someone grabbing her shoulders.

“Hey you!” said Rusty in her ear. She turned her head and managed to twist herself slightly towards him. His hair was ruffled and he had a gleeful grin on his amiable, freckled face. “Just like being on the soccer pitch! Grand scrum, isn’t it?”

“Do they have scrums in soccer?” asked Alex.

“Don’t be so pedantic! Anyhoo, I wanted to talk to you. You know they’re going to burn the cornfields soon.” Rusty contorted his face in a grimace.

Alex looked away. The crowd had started to move again. “What are you talking about?”

“You know THE cornfield.”

Alex’s heart sunk. “We can’t talk now,” she said.

Rusty grabbed her wrist and pulled her from the flow. With the skill of an athlete he ducked and swerved over to the side of the corridor and then down towards the cafeteria. Alex, not as experienced as him at sport, nor as thin and lanky, bashed into several people, muttered sorry and counted her bruises. When he finally stopped at the edge of the dining area — all the seats were full, Alex finally managed to speak, “Hey, I was in the queue for registration! Or I think I was. I’d been standing there for forty-five minutes.”

“Really?” said Rusty, frowning. “I was queueing to get my library card renewed. Registration for our year is in the Robert Mitchell building.”

“Shit,” said Alex. “Another chunk of my life wasted in this place.”

“Hey, I found you! What were the chances?” He took a breath and lowered his voice. “The lights have been out over the fields again. I think we should get out there and have a proper look around.”

“And find ourselves chased by a helicopter and a drone again?” said Alex. “You do remember how that went.”

“But we’ve not been out there.”

Alex shook her head puzzled. “I mean,” continued Rusty, “that they’re chasing something else. Something that must have escaped from the Center.”

“In which case they have doubtless caught it or it’s long gone,” said Alex practically.

“But they’ve been out two nights in a row,” said Rusty. “I don’t think it has been caught.”

“Look,” said Alex, “I want to hang Straker out to dry as much as you, but we have to be savvy about this.”

“Like a pirate?”

“What?”

“You said savvy. That’s what pirates say.”

Alex attempted without much success to minimise the scorn in her voice, “Savvy, from the French verb Savoir, to know. We need to be careful. It’s all about risk and reward. If I’m going to risk getting myself on the Center’s radar again, I need there to be a better chance of success.”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” said Rusty. “I mean with Straker poisoning you with those pills last time.”

“He didn’t poison me. He sedated me.”

“He made you act like you weren’t you. You couldn’t think straight. Seems like poisoning is the right word to me,” said Rusty.

Alex put her hand on his arm. “I’ll always be grateful to you for helping me, but he didn’t technically do anything illegal. We have to be …”

“Careful, I know,” said Rusty.

“Let me think about it,” said Alex. “If the cornfields are due to be burnt any day soon, maybe it’s worth one final look.” Rusty’s face lit up. “Great,” he said. “When do we go?”

Alex opened her mouth to speak when behind them there was an almighty crash. They turned as one to see a scruffy man standing over a pile of broken glass and twisted metal swearing violently and with amazing fluency.

“That’s a movie light,” said Rusty.

Then a startling handsome man with lantern jaw, medium, thick, blonde hair and eyes so piercing blue it was as if they shone with an inner light, walked into the room. He was dressed in jeans and a casual grey top. He stood just under six foot tall, but had the kind of photogenic presence that is rarely seen twice in a generation. He took one look at the light and then another at the roomful of people gaping at him. “Security,” he yelled. As the room rose, almost as one, five stocky men in black surrounded him and started edging him back out of the room. Alex and Rusty were pushed aside and pinned to the wall by the press of students charging forward. “Joe,” they roared. “Joe! Joe! Joe!”

Alex saw the man mouth the words, “aw crap” before his security hustled him away.

“Those guys in black didn’t have any necks,” observed Rusty calmly as every rushed by.

“Do you think they were aliens?” asked Alex.

“Something like,” said Rusty. “Bodybuilders. All that pumping iron does funny things to them. Some bits get bigger. Others shrink.” He shuddered.

“Who was he?”

“You don’t know?” asked Rusty.

“That’s why I’m asking.”

“That was Joe Trend.”

“And what does Joe Trend do?”

Rusty looked at her incredulously. “He’s an actor. A movie STAR.”

“Oh, an actor,” said Alex instantly losing interest. Then she brightened. “This would be a great time to get in line for registration. If everyone’s gone charging off after cheekbones, I might get done in time for lunch.” She gave Rusty a grin and headed off in the opposite direction from the crowd.

“Catch you for lunch?” Rusty shouted after her, but Alex was already out of sight.

Alex headed for the Robert Mitchell building and joined the queue. It moved forward with agonising slowness. Strong, pungent aftershave wafted from the boy in front of her. From what she could see from his profile he had more spots than he had facial hair. She heard a hiss from behind her and turned to see a girl with long hair dousing herself in hairspray. “Oi”, said Alex as she almost got a face full. “Is your student card photo that important?” The girl sneered at her and turned to talk to her friend. “Cheerleader in the making,” muttered Alex to herself. Her eyes stung under the onslaught of chemicals. She rubbed her eyes. She felt she’d made a real effort today, but the students around seemed more dressed for a party than studying.

She could hear a woman further up the line saying what sounded like, “You. You. Not you. You. Up the front.” Maybe there had been some kind of dress code email that had gone round that she hadn’t seen. In fact she hadn’t looked at any of her college emails all summer. As far Alex was concerned college started after she matriculated, which was when she would check her school email. She could hear the woman getting closer. Then she caught a glimpse of her, a short brunette in a pencil skirt and smart blouse, hugging a clip board and with an ear piece. She drew level with the spotty boy. The woman looked him up and down. “You’ll do. Lose the aftershave. Up the front.”

Alex blinked. She wasn’t quite sure how the boy could suddenly remove the scent. Visions of compulsory showers before matriculation, like when you enter a prison, flashed before her eyes. Then the woman got to Alex. “Perfect,” she said. “You look exactly like a student. Not like a wannabe starlet. You two get,” she said to the girls behind Alex. “I need students not failed beauty contestants.” She poked Alex in the shoulder. “Come on! Or I’ll pick someone else. I don’t have time to waste. Up the front.”

Alex didn’t need to be told again. If this odd sartorial assessment was going to get her to the head of the queue then she’d take it. As she stepped out of the queue and went towards the front, she encountered several other, younger women, each with clipboards and increasingly worried expressions. All of them hurried her forward until she was almost running to the head desk.

But instead of the desk with the small camera and lamination machine she had been expecting, she was greeted by a grey haired man, who looked her up and down and said, “Lovely hair. Through there into that gym hall.” Alex, who was clutching her matriculation papers, said, “What has my hair to do with anything.”

“Oh, sweetie, careers are lost and won on the merits of a good head of hair,” said the man and pushed her forward. Alex had, by now, realised she was in the wrong queue, but her ever fervent curiosity kept her quiet. Also, as the girl who had never been picked for anything in school, she wanted to discover what she was now considered eligible to do.

She joined the group assembling in the hall. She counted twenty five. They were lined up in front of a small impromptu stage that had been built out of low, black blocks. The excitement in the air was palpable. This gave way to a cheer as ‘cheekbones’ as Alex had mentally labelled him ascended the stage.

“Hi guys,” he said. “Thanks for agreeing to be the movie. You background people are so important. You’re what makes the movie feel like it is properly set in a college. You’re the authenticity of everything. The rest of us can only do our jobs because you’re here. On the shoulders of giants as they say.”

The other girls were oohing and aarhing and making what Alex felt were quite disgusting noises of appreciation, whereas the boys were standing taller, with their legs further spread apart, trying to match up to their hero. Alex thought any second that ‘Spots’ would achieve the splits.

“One last thing, guys. We need you to sign on officially. So I’ll meet you all briefly face to face when you put your x on the contract and get your rate of pay set. I know a lot of you are excited, but this is a real job. There are rules and you need to read the contract after you’ve signed it, so you can be sure you’re keeping up your side of the deal.”

“Wouldn’t it be a better idea to read it before you sign it,” said Alex, who had no intention of signing on.

‘Cheekbones’ gave an embarrassed little grin. “In a perfect world, maybe. But we’ve got a few thousand people queueing for one hundred places. If you want to walk then walk.”

Alex opened her mouth to say this was not only unfair, but probably illegal. However the students had been galvanised at the thought of meeting the star face to face and were surging towards the desk that had been set up. Alex found herself propelled along. Idiots, thought Alex. She could feel her temper rising.

When she got to the front of the line, she saw the star sitting down. He held out his hand to shake hers without taking his eyes of his phone. “Glad to have you aboard,” he said. Next to him was a woman waiting with a pile of papers and a pen that she held out to Alex. “You do realise what you’re doing is positively illegal. You’re trading on these people’s hopes and dreams. I bet you’re paying next to nothing.”

Joe Trend raised his piercing blue eyes to Alex. “We pay union rates even though you’re not union. No one’s being stiffed.”

“And how are we meant to know that,” retorted Alex. “You should have handed out copies of the contract while people were waiting in line.”

“Do you have an agent or something?” said Joe, frowning slightly. Alex couldn’t help noticing he made frowning look sexy.

“I didn’t even know this was what I was queueing for. I thought I was registering for the new term.”

“You don’t want to be in my film?” said Joe, his eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline.

“Why would I?” said Alex.

Now he was actually looking at her. “Because, because I’m Joe Trend,” he said.

Alex shrugged.

“From Zero to Hero?”

Alex shook her head.

“One Man One World One solution?”

“Really?” said Alex. “That was a title?”

A tinge of red flushed Joe’s cheeks. Alex could hear muttering behind her in the crowd. This could turn ugly. “I don’t go to the movies often,” she said, trying to calm things.

“You honestly hadn’t heard of me?” said Joe.

“I’m so sorry,” said Alex.

Then Joe threw back his head and laughed. He said something in a low voice to the woman next to him and she pulled a pile of papers from a different stack.

“What’s your name?” asked Joe.

“Alex.”

“Well, Alex give us a chance. You might be exactly what the biz needs.”

Afterwards, Alex could never properly explain why, but she signed the form.

“You’re going to be an extra?” said Rusty in tones of disbelief. “When we have so much to do?”

Alex shrugged and picked through her salad. The café had introduced a new health initiative and she wasn’t entirely sure of all the strange looking leaves in her bowl. She held one up, “Isn’t this cattle fodder?”

Rusty ignored the piece of kale being waved in his face. He lowered his voice, “’”