“We're not here to kill but to acquire. Best you remember that.” The guy removed his knitted black ski-mask.
I'd seen so many pictures that I would have known him anywhere. Jeffrey Parker. He wasn’t wearing glasses, and his body was hard and lean with a face to match. That unfinished quality he'd had in the last pic I'd seen was gone forever.
“Stand up, Caleb,” Parker spoke in a clear, ringing voice.
I did, but I was going to be in charge. This was not how I had thought I'd meet Parker, it was going to be on my terms. I glanced at the gun. But they weren't there to kill me. They wanted to “acquire” me. That was almost worse, but it was my only leverage.
I got to my feet. Tiff was standing with Man-Three, a short guy as wide as I was tall. He had a gun trained on her.
I faced Parker. “What do you want?” I yelled.
Man-Three said something into a radio on his shoulder. The noise of the helicopter toned way down, like air leaving a balloon.
“There, much better,” Parker said. “Do you know who I am?”
“Yeah.”
“Good, that saves time. We're here because we know what your potential is, Caleb.”
“You're wasting your time, Parker. I tested out as a two-point.”
He laughed. The sound was just short of a hoarse cough—creepy and false. “Yes, we're aware of that. Our operatives were watching things very closely. We have high hopes for you, Caleb, and you won't disappoint.”
I just stared at him. I wasn’t going anywhere with that guy. He made all the hair on my body stand on end.
Like recognized like.
Parker took a step closer.“Who do you think broke into your house? We heard every conversation you’ve had in there since then. We are very aware of what you and your clever father have been trying to do to keep your gift a secret.”
“Here's the thing,” I said. “I'm not going to be the government's bitch.” I spread my hands out away from my body. “Just sayin'.”
Parker smiled. “You'll be what we want you to be... to become.”
He signaled to Gun-Holder. “Get the girl. We can use her to persuade Mr. Hart to join our cause.”
I turned to look at Tiff but Gun-Holder was jogging toward Jade.
Oh no.
Everything seemed to begin moving in slow motion. I calculated how far away Tiff was. She seemed to read my mind as she nodded at me. A gun was inches from her head. I had to gamble with her life, but all our lives were at stake. I knew they wouldn’t just let my friends go. They wouldn’t leave witnesses.
I took two huge steps then leapt for Tiff. She extended her arm as Man-Three whipped his gun around, using the stock as a weapon. The butt whistled through the air and grazed her forehead, opening a gash. I grabbed her hand. She clasped my other one, and we pulled toward each other in a mid-air waltz. We landed just to the side of the cemetery. Our power shimmered between us like a thing alive.
“No!” Parker shouted.
He obviously hadn’t known just what Tiff was.
Their intelligence needs work.
I craned my neck to look at our group and saw Gun-Holder lurching toward them. Once Gun-Holder was in reach, Bry grabbed the man’s hand and yanked, using the guy's own momentum to pull him off balance. But Gun-Holder was larger, and he took Bry with him for the ride.
“Move!” I screamed at Jade.
Jade turned and ran through the tombstones. Gun-Holder began pounding on Bry. The Js went to Bry’s aid, while Sophie raced after Jade.
The operative was landing a solid beating on Bry (he never caught a break), as Jade ran through the tombstones like gray flags in the failing light.
“Shit! Get that girl,” Parker yelled at Man-Three.
Man-Three raced off after Jade, who had stopped right in the middle of the graveyard.Sophie creeped after Jade while Man-Three paced her, mirroring her progress.
“Jade, run to me!” I screamed.
Man-Three roared like a lion, rushing forward those fifteen feet to grab Jade. She saw him coming and leapt to the side.
I let my power loose—a precise laser sent straight in front of Jade. A zombie exploded out of the grave next to her. He was a macabre thing of beauty, his arms fully extended, knees bent up in the air, classic karate stance.
He appeared before her as a warrior and I screamed inside its head the command: protect.
The zombie moved to stand between Man-Three and Jade. Man-Three unceremoniously pressed his gun barrel to the zombie's chest and fired point blank.
“No!” I shouted, my zombie blown to smithereens before my eyes.
But Jade kept coming, my zombie's sacrifice there in her eyes and body as she moved to me. Man-Three continued to fire. The zombie danced as the rounds penetrated its body. Bits of flesh flew, splattering tombstones. Even as he was blasted to smithereens, the zombie kept going, trying to get at Man-Three’s throat.
Man-Three must have had twenty-round clips. The gun finally clicked empty, my zombie's chest a hole the starlight penetrated, its face a dark prison of blood and gore.
Protect, I commanded. Protect.
Though slower because of the damage, the zombie surged forward and tore the gun from Man-Three's hands, tossing it like so much unnecessary candy into one of the tombstones and cracking the corner off like a chipped tooth.
“God dammit! Take its head, fool!” Parker yelled.
I heard a scream from Sophie and turned to see what was going on over there.
A knife glinted in the dark and sailed out toward my zombie, embedding itself thickly in his neck, but not severing, black blood flying outward and hitting everything in its path.
Bry was lying motionless on the ground. Gun-Holder had his arm around Jonesy’s neck, and he was making steady progress toward Jade and me. Jonesy flailed and kicked, but he was no match for the bigger man.
Don't give up.
My zombie was slowing down, each wound more grievous than the last.
I need more zombies.
As if on deadly cue, Tiff and I got busy with a few more as Parker grabbed Tiff by her hood and zombies poured from the ground.
Gun-Holder stopped in his tracks, Jonesy giving him hell.
“Hold still or I'll choke you into unconsciousness, shithead.”
Jonesy did.
But he wouldn't do what he was told for long, he wasn't big on obedience.
There were several zombies and now Parker held onto Tiff like a deathline. He sucked off our power, adding his to ours, it was numbing me.
The zombies looked at me, then turned to Parker.
Parker straightened and announced, “I am master here.”
The zombies moved toward Parker.
I jerked Tiff just about off her feet and slung her to my left and away from Parker.
“Stop!” I flung out to them.
They turned to me and Tiff, some without eyes, staring darkly at the two of us.
Parker looked at me. “This won’t work. I’m more powerful than you, more experienced. You cannot prevail.”
Never give up.
I turned with Tiff, launching ourselves at Jade, running to the zombie with the knife in its neck. The first to answer our call. We made it to her, and I clutched her hand tightly. The three of us weaved our way through the zombies.
“Stop them!” Parker yelled, running after us.
I reached my zombie just as Man-Three was raising a knife to plunge the blade into my zombie’s head. I let go of the girl’s hands and grabbed Man-Three’s wrist, stopping the knife from lowering.
His eyes widened. I wasn't as strong as he was, but I'd startled him, the element of surprise was enough.
My zombie snaked out a hand and grasped my free hand. Only the three of us were connected: the gun man, the zombie, and me.
I thought, Die.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then, Man-Three started shrieking, great gulping screams, one after another, as my power took from him.... and gave to the zombie.
The scene was a movie in reverse. The gaping hole in the zombie’s chest began filling in, the skin knitting together right before my eyes. His cheeks puffed out a little, no longer sunken. His gaze steadied on me.
I looked at Man-Three. His expression was a rictus of horror. The light in his eyes was fading.
“Caleb, what are you doing?” Parker asked in a near whisper.
“Killing him,” I replied in a fugue.
It felt good. My zombie was mending itself, and the bad guy, the very bad guy, would... be gone.
“Caleb!” Tiff shrieked.
“Huh?” I turned my head toward her, feeling as if I were moving underwater.
“Stop! You're killing him!”
I looked back at Man-Three. She was right. I released the two, reluctantly. I tried to feel bad about almost killing the guy who had put a gun barrel to Tiff's head, but I just couldn't work up to it..
Jade ran over to me and pressed her face against my chest. Over her head, I glared at Gun-Holder, who still had the choke hold on Jonesy. I could feel the presence of my healed zombie behind me, ready to obey my command.
“Let him go,” I told Gun-Holder.
Ten zombies looked in my direction. If he didn’t let Jonesy go, I could make him.
Parker took a step forward. “Don't. It'll be a stalemate.” His voice held a slight tremor.
Something had taken that arrogance down a notch. The life-suck thing. I was sure that was not covered under the five-point standard. I held Jade tighter.
Parker cleared his throat. “We raised this group together. We both control them.”
I nodded at Jonesy. “Let him go or we'll see who owns who,” I told Parker.
Parker twitched a finger. Gun-Holder gave a disgusted grunt then released Jonesy, shoving him to the side.
“Douche,” Jonesy muttered. He walked over to Sophie and gave her a hug. Their two-inch height difference allowed her curly hair to swarm around his like an embracing halo.
Gun-Holder spoke into his mike, and the chopper noise became louder. They had something up their sleeves. Parker stepped forward.
I instinctively moved back, taking Jade with me. “Don't get any closer, Parker.”
Gun-Holder reached out as if to grab Jonesy again. Jonesy tried to dodge, but the man got his hands on Sophie instead and ripped her out of Jonesy’s arms.
“No!” Jonesy roared.
Gun-holder tucked her under his arm and ran for the ropes hanging from the chopper. Jonesy followed.
“Jonesy, no!” I yelled.
Of course, Jonesy didn't listen.
Sophie was too stunned at first to believe that she was being carried like a sack of potatoes toward a government helicopter.
She began to fight in earnest, bucking and thumping her fists on Gun-Holder's back.
Jonesy was fast, overtaking Gun-Holder, who was weighed down with a body to carry. Both of them reached the ropes at the same time. Gun-Holder grabbed a rope with his free hand. Jonesy leaped forward and managed to get hold of Sophie's wrists.
Power surged in a blooming arc all around us. A brilliant light strobed, then the big spider in the sky began to fall, dropping toward us in a black rush of crashing branches and trees.
The blades of the chopper cut great swaths in the sky, slowing down but coming closer. I ran with Jade and Tiff back to where Bry and John were. When we got there, I turned in time to see Jonesy drag Sophie to safety just as a chopper blade embedded itself into the ground inches from where they had been. It was a guillotine meant for harm, two feet behind Jonesy, spearing a tombstone, which disintegrated on contact, shards of marble flying through the night like tiny missiles of destruction, the ground shaking with the force of impact.
Parker and the other two men had scattered. I took stock of the group: Bry and John on the ground, Jade and Tiff with me, a grubby and tired Jonesy with Sophie. My human-looking zombie stood nearby with his gaze on me, seeming completely unconcerned with the mayhem going on around us.
Parker called out, “We're not done here, Caleb Hart.”
“Yeah, we are!” I shouted back. I turned to Tiff.
“Let's put him back before Parker gets his crap together.”
She took my hand. We all looked at my zombie, who stood unblinking, staring at me.
Unnerving.
“Rest,” I said, unfurling that power again, just a stab of it directed at the zombie.
He lingered, staring, and for one awful moment, I thought maybe I'd used up all my juice for the day. But then he turned and ran gracefully on his fully formed legs. His grave opened like a crater to receive him. It swallowed him whole, and the ground closed over him like a giant mouth.
I paused for a surreal second. “Let's go,” I said quietly.
Parker watched us. The zombies around him stood like a small forest of corpse-trees, unmoving. He could lay them to rest. Besides, he said we were part owner.
Let him figure it out.
The government men seemed stunned as they searched the ground near the downed chopper. I realized they were probably looking for their weapons. Time to get going.
Bry struggled to sit up. “Tell me to stay behind next time.”
Tiff said, “Let's go, right now!”
We hightailed it out of there, the graveyard and its inhabitants at our backs.
CHAPTER 32
Our bikes stood at attention, hidden in the bushes at the beginning of a little used dirt road, which fed to the paved road. Instead of a clean escape a cop car stood parked, lights out, idling softly.
Jonesy swore with real feeling.
A dome light appeared inside as the driver's side door opened. A cop climbed out and shut the door. Garcia.
“Great, we're screwed,” Bry said thickly. “He's in it with them.”
Jade swayed a little, and I held her closer.
John said, “I don't want to be his bitch, either.”
It was bad when John was swearing. “We're not going to be any kind of slaves for anybody,” I said, stepping forward.
Garcia surprised us all by running forward and asking, “You guys hurt?”
We said nothing.
He sighed. “Listen, I don't have a lot of time here. They're calling in reinforcements as we speak. I have to get you kids out of here and somewhere safe.”
“Wait a sec,” Jonesy said. “We thought you were with them.” He jerked his head in the direction of the graveyard we'd just escaped.
“The Graysheets? Hell, no. I'm deep undercover, but I won't be if we don't get your butts out of here.”
“Okay,” I said, feeling as though I didn’t have much choice.
“What about our bikes?” John asked.
“Leave them,” Garcia said. “We'll get them later, or somebody will.”
We piled into the cop car, all the girls stacked on top of us. Onyx, who had been oddly silent, jumped in last and crouched on the console between the front seats.
Garcia got in, and put the squad car in drive. He looked at Onyx, who wagged his tail. Garcia just shook his head at the dog and got rolling, the gravel crunching under the wheels of his cruiser.
We left the graveyard, surrendering our anonymity forever.
***
“So what's going on?” I asked
Garcia stared ahead at the road for a minute. “Where to begin?” he said almost to himself. He shook his head.
Our group, with the Weller kids bashed up again, sat waiting to hear why he had the good fortune to be cop-on-the-spot. Even Onyx was looking at Garcia.
“Let's get where we're going, then we can talk.”
“No, I don't want to go to someplace you want. I have a place that we know is safe.”
“Not the hideaway, Caleb. Maybe he can't be trusted,” John said.
“Yeah, the hideaway, John. You think we can't take care of things if something happens?” I asked him. I turned back to Garcia, who did a quick check of my expression. “We have a place you can take us
where we feel safe.”
“I'll have to pulse Bobbi,” he said.
“Gale?” My face was one Fat Dirty Look.
“Yes, Officer Gale,” he said, noting my expression. “I guess I deserve that.”
“No offense, but adults aren't really on our trust list right now,” John said.
“Fair enough,” Garcia responded.
I gave him directions, and he used his car-pulse to let Gale know where we'd be. We all pulsed our parents to check in, but we didn’t tell them much.
Gale met us there in her civilian car, looking very weird in her regular clothes. I thought it was a little like meeting your teacher in the grocery store.
We piled out of the car, stiff from being crammed together. I did a secret scan of Jade, making sure she was okay. The cemetery had been a true threat—a threat to our freedom and in the end, our lives.
Garcia and Gale seemed amused by our breaking and entering of the old dump station. I thought for sure they'd be mad, but Garcia said it was a clever contingency plan.
“You kids were thinking ahead after all,” he said, looking around our hideaway.
“This is totally not safe,” Bobbi Gale said, gesturing at the uneven metal ceiling above our heads.
John replied, “It's been this way for ten years.”
The place was cramped with so many people, but we pulled up the milk crates and other things we collected for chairs, and managed to get a little comfortable. John lit the propane lamp. A total throw-back but it worked.
“My mom's old camping gear,” Jonesy said.
“Better not use it for long in this enclosed space,” Gale said. “It can get pretty toxic.”
“We know,” John said. “We'll replace it with LEDs when we get the big bucks.”
“Now,” Garcia said, “why don’t you boys tell us what happened?”
I related all the events of the evening from the beginning, with the others filling in some details. When I finished, the cops were thoughtful, their silence filling the space.
“That seems off to me,” Gale said. “The Graysheets take all that time to acquire Caleb and blow it with a state-of-the-art helicopter dying?” He turned to Jonesy.
“Tell us again exactly what you did, Jonesy.”
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