Normal: Encounter Series, #5

By Joanna Homer

Be careful what you wish for... because you might just get it.

 

Waking up at Riverdell University on an Earth the Greys didn't destroy, Eliza should be delighted. She finally has what she's always longed for––a normal life.

But she quickly discovers normal isn't all it's cracked up to be, especially when it means everyone in her life is extremely human, and there is no sign of Jack or Daisy.

 

To make matters worse her roommate's new boyfriend is displaying serious red flags of the extra-terrestrial kind. Worried her new friend is in danger, Eliza is in the dark and helpless. Two things she doesn't do well.

 

So when Roxy goes missing, Eliza sets off to find the one person who can help—but will Jack be the same in this world? And with no powers, will Eliza manage to stay alive long enough to find out?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joanna Homer
• Release date: Oct 10, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201407186

Joanna Homer

Joanna Homer lives in London with her husband, son and Basset hound. Office worker by day, writer by night, Joanna has enjoyed making up stories from a young age (in a fun creative way, not a compulsive liar way) until one day she decided to finally finish one of the dozens of book ideas she has in varying stages of completion.   Contact is the first book in a series of six. What started out as a trilogy keeps growing, so as long as Eliza and Jack’s journey continues, it may not end there. As well as drinking tea (British stereotype alert!), Joanna is addicted to reading and loves finding a new series which keeps her up reading late into the night. She is always on the lookout for recommendations so if you want to help her out, or want to learn more about Joanna and her books, visit www.joannahomer.com.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

E liza? A low groan came from under the blankets on the opposite bed.

What was going on?

The familiar blue-grey sky and trees with green leaves and brown bark convinced me this was Earth. Outside everything looked normal—no damaged buildings, no craters in the middle of the road. There was even a person out jogging in the park down below, and a moving car, very different from the Earth I’d left.

Gingerly, I touched my fingers to my head. Maybe the universe had reversed time and sent me back to before the Greys had attacked. My pulse tripped. Had they?

We definitely drank too much last night, came a muffled voice.

The patchwork blanket shifted, and a pair of brown eyes peered out at me. Her bronze-coloured hair stuck up in a tangled mess, and the remnants of yesterday’s make-up was smeared on her pillow.

R-right, I stammered.

The girl carried on, speaking a mile a minute. Can you believe I almost went home with Chris? Thank God you made me see sense. Vodka is the devil. She licked her lips with a wicked grin. I’ll switch to cider tonight. Where are we going?

I’m not sure about going out tonight, um… My gaze fell on a textbook on her desk, labelled Roxanne Gallagher. …Roxanne.

She jerked her head around to look at me, eyes narrowed. Why are you calling me Roxanne? Only my mum calls me that. Even Father Ryan from her church calls me Roxy.

Of course… sorry. This hangover is no joke. Grabbing my phone from the bedside table, I headed to the door on my side of the room, praying it was a wardrobe, or even better a bathroom.

Get your head straight, I told myself firmly. Find out where you are and what is going on. As I reached for the door handle, my stomach flipped over. My daisy tattoo was no longer on my wrist.

Eliza, are you okay? Roxy asked.

I ripped my gaze from my wrist and turned the knob. Yeah, I just need… I opened the door and gave a sigh of relief at the small blue-and-white-tiled bathroom. …a shower to freshen up, that’s all.

Slipping inside, I locked the door behind me. When I caught sight of myself in the mirror, I did a double take. My hair was a mess, but it was also… different. Shorter, with some cute layers and highlights threaded through, breaking up my caramel blonde. It was a vast improvement on apocalypse hair, that was for sure, and much more human than the intricate styles they preferred on Aether. Looking down, I realised I was wearing my oversized Dead Trivia t-shirt. I ran a hand over the material and fingered the hem. The soft cotton between my fingertips comforted me, like a toddler with a blankie. I hadn’t seen it since… well, since the Greys blew up my house.

I closed the toilet lid and perched on the seat. The instant I switched on my phone, it began vibrating with messages and notifications.

Casting my eye over the messages, I searched for Jack’s name. It wasn’t there. I had a lot from Scott, weirdly Dane, and someone called Danni.

I scrolled through a second time. Nothing from Jack. I checked my contacts––I didn’t even have his number! Swallowing hard, I closed my eyes and tried to remember it. 0755… no 07750… Urgh, it was no good. Who am I kidding? No one remembered phone numbers, let alone after mobile phones had been out of service for however many months. An unpleasant cold sensation unfurled in the pit of my stomach as I continued to search. No Freddie, no Maya, Scarlett, or Darcy. None of them were in my contacts. In fact, I hardly recognised anyone on the list.

The phone buzzed with a message, and I nearly dropped it in the sink when I read the name.

Tasha.

With fumbling fingers, I opened the app and stared at the message.

You’ll never guess what? I hooked up with Jason last night, lost my shoes, and had to walk home barefoot––it was the best night!

A half-laugh, half-sob escaped my lips as I read the message though my tears. Could this be real? Tasha was alive!

I hit the call button.

I didn’t expect you to be awake yet.

My heart ached at the familiar sound of her voice. I leapt to my feet. Tasha. It was really her.

I couldn’t sleep, I replied, my heart beating wildly.

Heavy night?

Yeah, that’s one way of putting it.

Spill the details then.

You go first. I want to hear all about Jason. I brushed a tear from my cheek as she rabbited on about her drunken night of shenanigans. So that’s me. Are you going to fill me in on what has you up before noon on a Saturday? …Eliza?

I cleared my throat and wiped my face with the hem of my T-shirt.

It’s all pretty hazy to be honest. I don’t remember a lot of it.

Ah, the convenient blackout excuse. Don’t worry, we’ll get it out of you next week.

Next week?

Wow you really did have a rough night. When me and Amy come up to visit. I’m counting down the days. We are going to have so much fun. I can’t wait to see you.

Me too. My chest fluttered at the thought of seeing them––for two very different reasons. The last time I had seen Amy, I’d saved her life after her plan to sell me out to an alien bounty hunter had backfired. Then again, I’d seen Tasha die with my own eyes, so it was safe to say I was in new territory here.

Look out Riverdell University! The girls are coming out to play.

I burst out laughing. That was such a Tashaism.

When we hung up, I sank back down on the toilet seat and opened my camera roll.

The most recent pictures were of Roxy and I, presumably yesterday on our wild night out. There were loads of selfies of us in varying degrees of sobriety, including one of Roxy and a guy with deep-set green eyes, covered in freckles, who stared at her adoringly. Perhaps that was Chris? One of the pictures made me do a double take and scroll back quickly.

Scott. He had a huge grin on his face, and he was wearing a white T-shirt with a crest of a castle and a river on the breast. The same crest was stamped on one of the textbooks on my desk. Had Scott moved back from Cyprus? Did we go to Uni together?

Another picture caught my eye as I continued to scroll. Dane leaned over me as I held the camera up for a selfie. He was licking the side of my face, and even worse––I was laughing about it. I closed the camera roll with a shudder as a horrible thought occurred to me. I wasn’t… I wasn’t still in a relationship with Dane, was I? What the hell was going on?

After a long, hot shower, I felt better. Just because there was no sign of Jack on my phone didn’t mean I couldn’t find him. No need to panic. Instead of worrying, I should appreciate being back on Earth in its pre-Grey attack state.

Wrapped in a red silk kimono I found hanging on the back of the door, I returned to the dorm room window. Blue sky had broken through the clouds, and I marvelled as a plane flew overhead, leaving a trail of white cloud behind it. I opened the window, relishing the crisp morning breeze on my face. All the little things I had taken for granted before, the excited shouts of kids playing, birds singing, even traffic noise, was now music to my ears.

When I turned around, Roxy had put down her phone and was staring at me like I had grown two heads.

Sorry, are you cold? I should have asked.

It’s not that… I… that’s my dressing gown.

Oh, I’m sorry I… Thought it was mine.

I don’t mind if you borrow it. It’s just you're acting kind of strange this morning. She tilted her head to one side. Oh my God, do you think someone spiked your drink?

I raked a hand through my damp hair. No, it’s nothing like that. I’m just hungover. I’m not thinking straight. I have a headache. And I seem to have woken up in a parallel universe.

Are you sure? Because I heard it happened to someone over at Nightingale Hall. Luckily her friends were with her the entire night and nothing happened, but the police were involved and everything.

It’s nothing like that. Really, I’ll be fine once I’ve had something to eat, I assured her. Hurrying over to the dresser on my side of the room, I pulled out a pair of black leggings and a fitted red shirt. I was just about to put them on when there was a knock at the door.

My gaze swung to Roxy, who had flopped back down in bed and was scrolling on her phone.

I’ll get it. I swung the door open, completely unprepared for the sight of the golden-haired figure who stood before me. My jaw dropped. Feeling dizzy, I pressed a hand to my forehead.

Oh my God, I whispered. Mum!

She patted her neat chignon as she took in my state of dress. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows pulled together into a little frown. Eliza, you’re not ready? You knew we were coming to take you out for brunch today.

We?

A large arm wrapped around her shoulders.

We thought we’d surprise you.

Dad?

I blinked a couple of times. Dressed in a navy cashmere jumper and jeans, Clark looked every bit like the father I had known before he’d ‘died’ (the first time). The geography teacher born and raised in Burnt Oak. No government suit, no eye patch, scars, or burns. Only a warm smile that reached his pale blue eyes. He took my hand and kissed my cheek.

What on non-apocalyptic Earth was going on?

My mind whirled a mile a minute as I tried to figure out what was happening.

Are you okay? My mum held the back of her perfectly French-manicured hand to my forehead, her frown deepening. You’ve been out drinking again, haven’t you? I told you at Christmas, it’s not good for you to keep getting drunk that all the time. Binge drinking, they call it.

I shook my head. Cindy Anderson giving me a lecture about excess drinking? This really was a parallel universe. With a huge grin on my face, I threw my arms around her neck, inhaling her expensive perfume.

It’s so good to see you.

She gave a little squeak of surprise, then hugged me back with a soft chuckle.

Aww silly. We saw you a couple of weeks ago, she said, rubbing my back.

Feels like longer. I kept my head buried in her neck, feeling like a little girl again.

Eventually, I let her go and stepped back, beaming.

So, where’s Daisy? Couldn’t she come? I asked, glancing around.

Mum looked at me, and her smile faded, replaced by a cloud of confusion.

Honey, who’s Daisy?

CHAPTER 2

Who’s Daisy?

My mouth flapped like a fish a few times. What was going on here?

I swallowed, and stared at my mum. She didn’t know who Daisy was.

Gathering my scattered thoughts, I gave her a weak smile.

So, brunch… where are we going?

If I took things slowly, adjusted to my surroundings without constantly putting my foot in my mouth, I could piece together what was going on.

I thought we could go back to that lovely little restaurant in town, Pieces. I’ve been dreaming about those delicious American pancakes we had there last time.

I stared at my mum, struggling to wrap my head around her being here, let alone this new ultra-together Cindy Anderson. The mum I knew dreamed about a gin and tonic, not American pancakes, and I didn’t think she even knew the term ‘brunch’ existed, let alone be up early enough to eat it.

My dad rested his hand on my shoulder, pulling me from my daze.

Come on, sweetheart, let’s go. I’m starving.

I hurried to finish getting dressed, and as I was adding the final touches to my make-up, Roxy came up behind me. Her arm circled my waist, and she gave me a squeeze as she met my eyes in the mirror.

Natural look suits you. I like it.

I glanced at the framed photo of us hanging above her desk. The smiling blood-red lips and contoured cheekbones staring back at me were a stark comparison to the slick of mascara, rushed dab of concealer, and lip gloss I had on today.

It’s only brunch, I said, a hint of defensiveness creeping into my voice. Considering I had spent the last few months without a tube of lipstick in sight, and then with silver tribal signs all over my face, I thought I had done a good job. Not that I could tell her as much.

Roxy gave me a strange look and said, Enjoy your time with the parents. We’ll meet you at the Student Union Bar later.

Walking across campus felt like a dream. The university itself was a magnificent Gothic building with pointed arches that gave it the height and majesty of a cathedral. Students milled around the courtyard going to classes, enjoying their daily lives. Laughter drifted over from a nearby group, and I drank in the innocence of it all. Everything was like before, as if the Grey attack had never happened. Correction: the Grey attack hadn’t ever happened—not here. The ‘powers that be’ or whatever ruled Conscientia said I was being rewarded with my life, and this was it.

We passed a grand marble fountain as we crossed the campus to the car park, and I marvelled at people going about their business with no idea of the devastation that had taken place.

We drove across town, which I discovered was also called Riverdell, like the university. According to the map on my phone, we were only about a forty-five-minute drive from Burnt Oak. My venture into further education hadn’t taken me far, then. I always pictured myself getting as far away as possible. That was when my life was a mess. Here, the distance was enough to live away from home but still close enough to have brunch with my well-adjusted, happy parents. Best of both worlds, as far I could tell.

The High Street had a chocolate-box-village vibe with neat hedgerows, thatched-roof Tudor cottages, and a few people enjoying a stroll on the village green.

This place is interesting, I said without thinking as we settled at our table at Pieces. I had been taken aback by the nautical decor and forgotten they’d said we had been there before. I still can’t get over how much it reminds me of Evil Pete’s, I added quickly, hoping the Burnt Oak bar hadn’t changed too.

Thankfully, my parents didn’t pick up on my slip-up. They were more concerned with what they were going to order. My gaze settled on my dad as he browsed the menu. In his casual outfit, he automatically seemed softer than the back-from-the-dead, head-of-Equinox, backstabber Clark Anderson I had come to know. An image of him wearing his eyepatch with glowing red symbols, the surrounding skin mottled and burned, flashed through my mind. The idea seemed ludicrous in this calm, normal restaurant. Sensing my eyes on him, he glanced up.

Hangover’s not so bad you’re off your food, is it? Usually you’re ravenous. His eyes twinkled when he smiled.

I… I’m… yeah, I’m starving. I swallowed back the sudden lump in my throat and dropped my gaze to peruse the menu. I found it hard to wrap my head around all this delicious food available so readily when we had been surviving on basic rations in Coldbridge. The food on Aether had been better but strange, then finally Bayronite… I hadn’t been there long enough to eat. When was the last time I ate? My stomach growled in response.

The waiter took our order, and I focused on acting normal. The act of having a meal in a restaurant seemed so commonplace. Breaking bread with my both parents, on the other hand, hadn’t been done in over a decade, and even back then they had never been so… happy.

A giddy sense washed over me when our food arrived, and I nearly groaned out load at the first mouthful of my old favourite: a turkey and lettuce sandwich with extra mayo. A silence fell over the table as we all tucked in.

Clark, can we do it now? Mum asked the moment she finished her food, her eyes dancing with excitement.

I thought we were going to wait until later, Dad said.

I watched on in fascination as Mum pouted until Dad eventually caved. Then she clapped her hands like a little girl, reached down beside her, and plonked a gift box on the table in front of me.

What is this? I asked, fishing the pink ribbon out of the mayo left on my plate.

Open it and find out, she said.

The date on my phone said it was October, so perhaps it was a late birthday present? But then my mum said, I know we just bought you the Audi for your birthday, but when you said you needed an iPad to take notes in class we couldn’t disappoint you.

The Audi? They’d bought me a car for my birthday?

I opened the box and blinked down at a shiny new iPad.

Do you like it? The man in the shop said it’s the latest model with the highest specs. You can practically use it instead of a laptop… Mum’s voice faded out as the background noise from the restaurant grew louder, a painful buzz in my ears. It was all too much. The way they were acting. It was them, yet… not. Sitting here with my mum and dad together, their spoiling me with expensive gifts when not so long ago I had been fighting for life, witnessing the destruction of a planet…

Everywhere I looked I saw destruction. Bodies lay amongst the waste, the building had collapsed, and lava flowed through the remains, swallowing anything in its path.

I gripped the table. It’s over. You’re okay, hold it together, I told myself firmly.

Looking up at Mum with watery eyes, I reached over and squeezed her hand.

Are you crying, Eliza?

I sucked in a breath and gave her a big smile. I’m just overwhelmed. This is such a generous present.

My dad wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me to his chest. Nothing is too much for my girl.

Thanks, Dad. I wiped my eyes.

We ordered some more drinks and took our time with lunch. Part of me revelled in the wholesomeness of it all. The other part felt like we were characters in a play. Chiding myself for being negative, I focused on them as they joked and laughed. Dad teased Mum about how long she had taken to get ready, and she pretended to be annoyed, then kissed him on the cheek. They were so easy with one another. Was this how they’d been before my dad’s head was turned by lights in the sky? Had losing