Rebellion (Awake As A Stranger Trilogy Book 2): Awake As A Stranger (3 book series), #2

By Diane Dresback

Could your influencing skills save your life?

In the second book in the AWAKE AS A STRANGER trilogy, Treaz is forced to continue surviving and working from within the bodies of complete strangers—many of them with existences she never could have imagined living.

She gains an improbable ally with which to rebel against the agonizing rules of her elusive employer. Despite unexplained moments of sympathy from her boss, punishment for Treaz's rebellious acts is harsh.

Grief, pain and humiliation threaten to consume Treaz if she cannot find a way back to her own life.

After establishing a secret online friendship, Omani's desire to flee from her meager existence on the compound becomes obsessive; her stark fear of her uncle's retaliation is undeniable.

Perhaps suicide is the better option. Nobody cares about her anyway.

 

Or do they?

The AWAKE AS A STRANGER trilogy follows the journey of Treaz and Omani. They reside on two different continents yet each are trapped in deplorable realities—Treaz living within other people's bodies and Omani being held captive on her uncle's compound.

Both long to regain control over their lives, escape their merciless captors, and expose the haunting truths facing them and the world. 

Can they find freedom together?

See what readers are saying about the Awake As A Stranger trilogy:

"Couldn't put the book down… I love her style. I feel like I know the characters." Reviewer

"I LOVED this series! What a crazy creative story line! I couldn't wait to start the next book and was sorry when it ended! The characters are amazing and how it all came together in the end was perfect! Loved the series!" Reviewer

"I read this book in one go, it is very intriguing…I really enjoyed reading about the differing reflections of people in this world, from those who have everything, to those who only have the clothes they are wearing." Reviewer

"…this series is fascinating… It was just enough curiosity to keep me going and unexpected twists and endearment to the characters that kept me engaged. I'm going to be thinking about this storyline and message for some time." Reviewer

"The author's writing style is light and easy, making it a quick read…I was especially intrigued by the author's knowledge of and incorporation of psychological constructs and by applying healthy messaging throughout, she created an upbeat and hopeful experience for the reader." Goodreads reviewer

"Highly recommended." Goodreads reviewer

Read all 3 parts

Awakening - Part 1

Rebellion - Part 2

Altercation - Part 3

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mindclover Productions LLC
• Release date: Aug 19, 2021
• ISBN: 9781963762167

Book preview

DEDICATION

My Awake As A Stranger trilogy is dedicated to you who I will probably never know nor walk in your shoes—Your lives and stories are meaningful and valuable even if misunderstood.

PROLOGUE

Awake As A Stranger is a trilogy

Awakening, Book 1

Rebellion, Book 2

Altercation, Book 3

Here is a brief reminder of Book 1 - Awakening.

TREAZ

A third-generation Romanian-American, Nadia Popa, who went by the nickname her grandmother gave her, Treaz, resided in San Antonio, Texas. After nine-year-old Treaz’s own mother, Maria, was admitted to a psychiatric treatment facility, Treaz went to live and be raised by her beloved Grammie. Maria died when Treaz turned twelve. Treaz never met her father.

Grandmother and granddaughter lived together until Treaz was forced to move Grammie into a full-time care home due to her worsening dementia. Treaz faithfully visited her Grammie frequently, sharing her life and dreams.

After a solitary drunken night on Treaz’s thirty-second birthday, she awoke in someone else’s body living in Phoenix, Arizona. Without her knowledge or permission, Treaz had been selected to work as a Transitioner, an unpaid employee of Vanguard—an elusive company with hidden secrets. Her job was to influence Assets to pursue an unknown outcome. Once the Asset’s life proved to be positively affected, Treaz Transitioned into another Host body, another stranger.

The Host bodies that Treaz inhabited were often troubled souls dealing with their own personal challenges—addiction, homelessness, physical restrictions.

Treaz dubbed her new boss, called a Counselor, as Pearl Man because of his single earring. His presence ofttimes absent, but he did show up to untangle the messes Treaz got herself into.

OMANI

Omani was a Swiss woman whose legs had been crushed in a car wreck as a young child resulting in the use of crutches. Her mother, Dr. Hanna LaZarres, had promised surgical repair once Omani stopped growing at age eighteen.

Hanna, along with her best friend, Julia, discovered a means of communication with Franklin, an American, who lived forty-four years in the past. Hanna kept this time difference a secret from sixteen-year-old Omani who became online friends with Franklin. By accident, Omani revealed Franklin’s name to her Uncle Filip which caused him to become suspicious. Desiring lucrative gain, Filip demanded his sister provide him with her discoveries.

Omani’s mother’s life ended under skeptical circumstances and Uncle Filip became Omani’s guardian eventually moving her to his Compound, a place where he and his employees conducted covert activities purported to stop terrorism. Enslaved on the property without the ability to communicate with the outside world, at seventeen Omani attempted to escape, but was caught in a gelato shop and returned to face her Uncle. His punishment—refusal of the operation on Omani’s legs.

Omani’s job was to oversee the Compound grounds and building maintenance, kitchen staff, and housekeeping. Uncle Filip required everyone to have as little interaction with his niece as possible which made her extremely lonely and always looking for a way to befriend someone. Via clandestine methods, Omani developed an online friendship with Iggy.

As Omani and Iggy’s relationship grew through the telling of stories, they unexpectedly uncovered he was Franklin’s son and the forty-four-year time-warp between them.

1

OMANI

Omani fumbled to turn off her 5:00 am alarm. Her eyes slowly blinked open and she stared at the ceiling. Iggy’s father is my old friend Franklin. Unbelievable! She smiled.

Her mind replayed the revelations—how brilliant her mother had been, that Omani had somehow re-kindled her mother’s original connection, and the forty-four-year time difference existing between Iggy, her new online friend, and their worlds. She struggled to comprehend such an incredible possibility.

Most of her night had been spent on internet research about historical events over the past four decades. Although Omani wanted to share her excitement about her discoveries with…well, someone, her secret must remain. Besides, she had to get to an early-morning meeting. She placed her crutches under her arms and dragged herself to the shower.

Uncle Filip had finally agreed to Omani’s plans to remodel the Compound kitchen. Normally she would enjoy the process of picking out colors, countertops, cabinets, and appliances, but it held no real thrill compared to what she and Iggy had uncovered through their messaging the night before.

After the exhaustive contractor meeting and a quick dinner, Omani carried a cup of coffee to her living unit. A dose of caffeine would help extend her day a bit longer, so she could message Iggy for a while. Omani sent him a greeting. He began with an apology.

IM: I hope I didn’t offend you by suggesting we go for a drink. 

OL: Were you trying to pick me up? 

IM: Sorry. I just had no clue you were older. 

OL: It’s fine. I never told you my age. Actually, I was quite flattered. 

IM: Still friends? 

OL: Friends. 

IM: Cool beans. 

A smile spread across her face. Iggy—the master of old clichés and the invention of new ones. He did have some strange vernacular. Must be an American thing.

OL: I’d been planning on telling you something before we got side-tracked last time. 

IM: I did kinda upset the apple cart.

OL: I’ve decided I want to try to leave again.

IM: You mean escape the Compound?

OL: Yes and come to America.

IM: Yeah. You can’t stay there now. Especially knowing what your crazed Uncle has kept buried all these years.

Her jaw clenched. The resentment towards Filip always bubbled just below the surface and sometimes flared to anger, but never had her hatred for him been so overwhelming, believing he now had had something to do with her mother’s death. Staying on the Compound—her prison, seemed unbearable, but leaving to enter a world Omani didn’t understand much frightened her.

OL: I’m not sure that’s a brilliant idea anymore. I don’t know anyone in the U.S. 

IM: You know me. 

OL: But, you’d be seventy now. 

IM: See! We’d be a couple old-timers and COULD have a legit date!

She burst into laughter. 

OL: Still trying, huh?

IM: Never say never. ;-)

OL: You’re very funny. 

IM: This definitely is one of those mind-bending time travel stories. 

OL: Except, I wouldn’t literally be traveling back in time. It would be present-day America in 2061. 

IM: Do you think everybody working for your Uncle knows about this time thing?

Could everyone have kept such a considerable secret from her for all these years? Likely her direct staff wouldn’t be trusted with those details. It was difficult to believe every one of her Uncle’s employees knew, and nothing had leaked out. 

OL: Probably only a few people. 

IM: Did you tell anyone? 

OL: Absolutely not. 

IM: Not even that guy who set up your internet access?

OL: I don’t think Rafael knows or he certainly would have hinted about it.

IM: And he’s trustworthy?

OL: If not, I would have been called out on things by now. I’ve been reading about terrorism over the past forty years. For the known cases that have been stopped, my Uncle’s organization is never mentioned.

IM: What do you think he’s doing then?

OL: All I can tell is they do a bunch of computer research. We have lots of Researchers on staff.

Omani chewed her lip. Trusting Iggy was easy. Never had she doubted who he claimed to be because he had always come across as honest and sincere; just a really nice guy which made it extra hard to broach her suspicion. As she fondled the insulated metal mug, admiring the large red letter V on its side, she declared her fears.

OL: I think you’re working for my Uncle.

IM: No frickin’ way would I work for such a jerk face.

OL: You employed by Vanguard?

IM: Well dang. That’s who I get my direct deposit paychecks from.

Closing her eyes, she exhaled deeply with the weight of the truth.

OL: Vanguard is my Uncle’s business. 

IM: My boss is the creep who’s holding you prisoner? 

OL: Unfortunately. 

IM: I guess it makes sense ‘cuz nobody else contacts me except them on this server. I’ll be tendering my resignation pronto.

Omani sat up straighter in her chair, her fingers moving fast on the keyboard.

OL: No, no, please. Don’t do that. 

IM: Why not? 

OL: Because I need your help in stopping him. 

IM: How can I do anything from here? 

OL: You said you were in communications. What exactly does that entail?

IM: I relay messages.

OL: What kind of messages? What do they say?

IM: Everything’s encrypted.

Omani wasn’t surprised. Everything around Vanguard was secretive. They’d already discovered a huge puzzle piece, now they must keep pushing to find out more to assemble some sort of plan to expose Uncle Filip and gain her freedom. Omani couldn’t do it without him. 

OL: Please, just don’t quit, yet. Let’s first try to figure this out together. OK?

IM: OK. But only ‘cuz it’s you, O. Otherwise, I would like to tell him to take his company and shove it…well, you get it.

OL: I do. And don’t tell anybody. I just am not sure who we can trust at this point, either here or there. 

IM: You got it. 

OL: Thank you. 

IM: Hey, three sets of doggie eyes are staring me down. I’m ten seconds past walk time. 

OL: Alright. Talk to you soon. Bye, Iggy.

IM: Later O.

Despite the caffeine and her desire to continue exploring online, her eyes were lead-heavy. Omani started to turn off her computer and stopped. She needed to do one search just to ease her mind.

Now that she knew Iggy’s last name, she did a search for Iggy Mann who lived in Phoenix, Arizona. She found what she didn’t want to find, an obituary from 2059, just two years earlier. Omani placed a hand over her heart. He had died at the age of sixty-eight from a smoking-related disease. Oh, Iggy.

Should she tell him of his fate? No, not now. She would keep this information to herself. Knowing the date of your impending death would not be something Omani would want to know.

She switched off her computer and got ready for bed. The thought that her mother was alive somewhere warmed her heart. Her wonderful, loving mother whom she missed terribly. If there was a way to save her from Filip’s cruel hands, Omani’s whole life would be different. At least for her younger self.

2

TREAZ

After Pearl Man, her unpredictable boss and Counselor had left the apartment belonging to her latest Host body, Treaz heard the front door open again, and footsteps came to her room. A burly, olive-skinned man, with a neatly trimmed black beard flecked with gray, around forty, entered the bedroom. Princess arched her back and hissed. 

Nice kitty, he said in a Middle-Eastern accent. 

Good kitty. Treaz prayed he was not the caregiver, perhaps a landlord or something. Her vulnerability in this stranger’s body felt suffocating as she lay unable to move any of her limbs.

He walked to the bed. Hello, Miss Sandoval. A pleasure to see you again.

Should she play dumb or play along? Treaz frowned. 

He noticed. You don’t remember me?

Sorry. 

Daniel. I filled in for a day for Margaret several years ago.

Margaret must be her Host’s regular caregiver. You do look a little familiar, she lied. Where is she? 

Got a call this morning. She had to take emergency leave. Her sister was in a bad car accident in Florida. 

Treaz figured this was another Vanguard move. That’s how her employer worked, behind the scenes when no one paid attention. When is she coming back?

I do not know. I just go where they send me. 

Yeah, me too.

He walked over and reached for the blanket. How about we get started?

Could you possibly make me some coffee? she blurted out. 

Sure. How do you like it, Miss Sandoval? 

She’d rather go by Treaz, but, in her particular predicament, she opted to go by the Host’s real name. Elizabeth is fine. Just black. 

Daniel left. She wanted to learn more about him before he saw her, or rather Elizabeth, nude. Soon the strong smell of coffee floated in from the kitchen. Returning with two cups, he raised the head of her bed and gave her a sip from one of them. It tasted bold and perfect. 

I’m sorry, what was your name, again? Treaz asked.

He sat in a bedside chair. Daniel.

She accepted another drink, rolling it around in her mouth. I love the flavor. More accurately, she longed to prolong the getting started part. How long have you been a caregiver?

Almost fourteen years. Too long.

You don’t like your job?

Princess hopped on the bed. Daniel stood and moved her off. I’m ready to do something different.

I totally relate to that sentiment.

He folded his arms. You don’t like writing?

Helpful information. Elizabeth must be a writer. Of course, she wasn’t referring to her Host’s line of work and tried to cover for her misdirected comment. I mean, it’s always fun to try new things. What do you want to do?

Daniel looked upward, hesitating. Then offered a matter-of-fact response. Expose the effects of radiation from electronic devices, and find an improved design.

Yes—he certainly is her Asset. Wow. Very specific.

I have been thinking about it for a long while now. He reached for the covers. Alright, let’s get you up.

No, no, no. Can we wait a little longer? I’d like to relax a bit. 

He bit his lip and exhaled. I’ll begin cleaning, then. 

The vacuum started up in the other room. Why couldn’t Vanguard have given her a female Asset this time? Surely, Elizabeth’s regular caregiver had something she hoped to accomplish. After about twenty minutes, he returned. Ready now?

I don’t think—

Look, Miss Sando— Treaz tilted her head. I mean, Elizabeth, I have to insist, he said. I know you don’t remember me—

"Uh, and you are a man."

He exhaled. I have seen hundreds of women’s bodies. All ages. All shapes and sizes. This is part of my job. 

Ugh. She’d just need to tell herself that he’s looking at another woman’s body, not hers. She sighed. 

Daniel pulled back the sheet and blanket with a quick swoosh. You always sleep naked?

Her face flushed. This was so beyond the call of duty. Why Vanguard insisted on their Transitioners always waking up in their new Host’s body with nothing on seemed like just another form of intimidation. It would take all of a minute for them to pull on some pajamas. Guess Margaret forgot to put my PJs on last night. 

He set to work, manually flexing and stretching each of her legs and arms, respectfully keeping the rest of her body covered with the sheet, so she wasn’t lying exposed to the world. How’d you cut your arm, he asked as he rubbed his fingertip over the incision on her arm.

It was in the same place as all her previous Host’s arms. Don’t recall.

Daniel finished the workout saying nothing further. And for the fun part, he said with a light-hearted tone. He turned Treaz on her side and slipped a suppository in her rectum. He rolled her back and covered her up with the sheet. Be back in a few minutes.

Tears rolled down her face. Elizabeth may be used to this, but Treaz was mortified, humiliated.

Daniel reentered the room and did not look at her tear-streaked face, perhaps out of pity. He carried her into the bathroom and propped her up on a chair-like seat over the commode just like the one Grammie used at the nursing home, and secured a strap around her body. Then he disappeared again giving Treaz