“Who told you that lame-ass story?” Tiff asked.
“One of the teachers,” Jonesy said triumphantly.
Jade took a bite of her apple. John put a Cheeto in each nostril and wiggled his nose. Sophie was unimpressed.
“You're gonna eat those now, aren't ya?” Tiff said, smacking her gum.
Terran's face flamed.
Jade sighed. “Boys.”
“Hey!” I exclaimed.
“Not you.” She fluttered her eyelashes at me and I was instantly smitten again.
“Listen up, chumps!” Jonesy said. “This is the plan.”
“Jonesy—” John started.
Jonesy held up one hand. “Hear me out. We're gonna go to this shack—”
“The one that's by a cemetery... smart,” Tiff said.
“Yeah, and I have the ghost-buster team here with me to take care of everything,” Jonesy said.
Tiff and I sighed.
“So we're gonna go there and see.”
“See what, Jonesy?” Jade asked.
“I don't know. Somethin', whatever.”
“Well, that clears things up a lot,” Sophie said.
Jonesy was immune to sarcasm. Everyone's.
“Jonesy's consistent,” John said neutrally.
I was figuring Jonesy for a full dark, check-out-the-haunted-house kinda guy. “It's a half-day, but I'm thinking we have to wait until dark.”
Jonesy slapped the table. “Hell, yeah! This is the best part. It won't be dark until late, like ten, so we have plenty of time to rabble-rouse before.”
A sneaking seed of suspicion started to take hold.
“You're not thinking of some cemetery shit again, are you?” I asked.
Jonesy put on an innocent face. “Who, me?”
Tiff's eyes narrowed into slits. “We don't need the spotlight, Jones. We need to stay underground.”
“That wasn't the plan, but if something cool were to happen...” He spread his arms.
John said, “Let's stick to checking out the old place and seeing what's in it. No cemeteries.”
Jonesy looked embarrassed.
“Spill it,” Tiff said, snapping a bubble like a firecracker and Sophie jumped.
“Well, there's something I forgot to mention,” he said, putting his thumb and index fingers a paper's width from touching.
John spun his hand like a wheel, go on, and Jonesy finished with, “You gotta walk through the cemetery to get to the house.”
“I knew it!” Sophie said.
“I guess it's okay. Carson and Brett don't know we're going,” I said slowly.
I looked at Jonesy who would tell The World if he felt it would help The Cause, he shook his head; he hadn't said anything... yet.
Tiff interjected, “And it's a bonus your Gran isn't buried there. Wait. Do you have any other relatives buried there?”
I shook my head. “No, they're all at Scenic.”
“Well, thank God,” Sophie mumbled.
“Okay, I'm in,” Tiff said, leaning back and crossing her legs at the ankles. “Can Bry come?”
“Um… he's not gonna kick my ass, is he?” I didn't want to set myself up for the fall and with my girlfriend as the audience.
“Nah... he's over it.”
“Is he the cute one?” Sophie asked.
Jonesy glared at her. Interesting.
“How should I know?” Tiff asked. “He's my brother. Gross.”
The pulse clock chimed, and we stood, separating our trash. The Js trailed behind as Jade and I walked to our next class.
“What do you think you'll get out of biology?” Jade asked. “It was kind of a cluster with the frog thing.”
“Maybe I softened him up, knowing stuff about flowers.”
Jade's eyebrows shot up.
I nodded. “Yeah, my mom makes me do gardening chores.”
“That's why you knew about the plant names when I came over.” She smiled up at me.
Huh, bonus point.
“It beats cleaning toilets,” I said.
“Yeah, that's a gross job. I'd rather learn about plants.”
She had the chores I hated, and I had made a big deal out of it. Geez, Hart, good going.
“This summer, you can come over and we'll do gardening together. I bet my mom would love the help!”
“All right, cool!”
We stopped beside my classroom door.
“Have fuuuunnn!” she teased.
“Oh, yeah. And monkeys will fly outta my butt!” I said.
She giggled, and I laid a kiss on her mouth. Her lips felt like crushed velvet. Sensory overload!
Last week of school, a plan for creepy Friday the Thirteenth, a new dog and a hot girlfriend; life was rocking about now.
CHAPTER 25
I was splitting my time between the Js and Jade and it was a job. The guys told me they wanted to hang at Jonesy's. I called Jade, and she okayed a change for me to see her Saturday night instead. Mom asked what Jonesy's mom was making for supper. I didn't know. I told her we'd probably forage in the pantry and come up with something good. Mom decided to make a pizza and send it with me.
I jetted over to Jonesy's on Dad's old one-speed Schwinn. I was sure I'd hear about that from Jonesy, but I didn't care. I loved the old stuff.
The pizza dangled from the handle bars in a most undignified way. The bag swung and whacked the bike as I rode to Meridian Villa. My dad grew up there. The houses were just the next step older than my neighborhood. Jonesy's parents had actually bought the house that Jonesy's dad had lived in as a kid.
I parked my bike in the circular driveway. Jonesy's house was cooler than mine. He even had a walk-out basement. Dad called those man-caves. The house was really flat looking and hugged the knoll it lounged on. Small windows that looked like eyes lined the point where the basement met the flower beds. The lawn was small and barely within legal limits. Seemed like some dudes just had to have a lawn. Mom would have never allowed it at our house, not Eco-enough. Mom thought lawns were for outdoor sports fields, period. I loved a lawn. It was a slash of emerald green that anchored the flower beds. Jonesy's mom wasn't a garden zealot like my mom, but she made it look nice.
I climbed the three, broad, concrete steps, ringing the bell.
Jonesy’s mom, Helen, answered the door with a grin. “Hey Caleb! Long time no see!” Her impenetrable hair stood at stiff attention (and looked like a rat lived on top).
Aqua Net queen.
I smiled. “Hi, Mrs. Jones.”
She frowned, and I corrected with “I mean... Helen.”
“That's better,” Helen said, ruffling my hair.
I ducked my head. “My mom made some pizza.”
“Good deal, we'll add it to mine.”
Great, more pizza. Happy Friday! I walked down the long hallway painted McDonald's yellow. With such a neutral exterior, the yellow was a shocker. But Helen said that with our gloomy Pacific Northwest days, she needed the sun inside her house.
I could hear the guys before I got to Jonesy's room.
When I went in, Jonesy and John were sitting on the floor, eyes glued to their readers. I walked over and knelt beside them. They were reading comics.
“Look at this dude. Hell, I’d love to be him.” Jonesy said, pointing to a picture of guy lifting a car off someone.
“You got that. I'm just a Null,” John said.
“At least you're something, you ingrate,” Jonesy replied.
“Hey, look at this.” I pointed to a small boy in the background. He was watching the rescue with big eyes, but he had one finger on the bumper.
“Is that kid doing it or the guy in the cape?”
“Hold on!” John leapt up and ran out of the room.
“What's he doing?” I asked Jonesy.
“I don't know.”
John returned with a large magnifying glass.
“This will do the trick!”
We all bent forward again. Jonesy held the magnifying glass over th
e reader. The kid did seem to be holding up part of the car.
“You remember Alex?” John said.
“The bad piano player?”
“Yeah. He told me that there were hidden messages in the comics.”
“Wow! All right, so what does it mean?” I asked.
“Well, that's what we've been trying to decipher with these comics.”
“What does Alex say it means?”
“He thinks there are allies of the paranormals that have been shut down by the government, and there are subtle messages in the comics that talk about what is going on, what they're doing. Maybe even where they might be located.”
“And Alex got this all from what? Did he just pull it out of his ass?” Jonesy asked.
I had a visual of Alex, who was such a nerd it hurt to look at him, but he was truly smart. Maybe there was something to this.
Jonesy turned off his DR. “That's for when we have more time. I have a plan.”
Oh joy.
John asked, “What now? I thought we were going to talk about the comic messages.”
“Later. Besides, you've already agreed to this,” Jonesy said.
“What?” I asked.
“Let's figure out the hideaway while there's no chicks around to ruin it,” Jonesy answered.
“Jade wouldn't ruin it,” I said.
“She wouldn't mean to, but she still distracts you. She's like the shiny thing. She moves, and you follow. Squirrel.” Jonesy threw out his hands.
John shook his head. “He's right, Caleb. You're kinda gone on her.”
“I'm here tonight, aren't I?” I asked defensively.
“Yeah,” John said, “but we're not getting together as much as we were. It's okay. I'm just sayin'.”
“Okay,” I said, changing the subject back. “I want to find a place to have a safe zone. Somewhere we can go if the government gets wind of me.”
“That's what I'm talkin' about, Caleb,” Jonesy said.
I still felt uncomfortable doing the zombie slave labor.
“Come on Caleb, we need them,” Jonesy said, seeing my face.
“I’ve been thinking of a way for us to use the zombies and get them back without being noticed,” John said.
I held up my hand. “Let's just wait and see if we even need to use them. Maybe we'll find a really cool place in the old dump, and it will be perfect.”
“Let's go tonight, right now,” Jonesy said.
“I gotta have some food first,” John said.
Right on cue, my stomach did a huge rumble.
“That's a sign,” Jonesy said.
We walked out to the kitchen and plopped down on stools at the breakfast bar. Jonesy's mom poured three Big Red. Helen believed sugar was a food group. That made me happy on a deep level.
She put a plate with four slices of pizza in front of each of us. My mom's pizza was demolished during round one. Jonesy and I were okay after that, but John had to have two more. Helen said she still had a whole pizza left.
“I don't wanna walk, Caleb,” Jonesy said through a mound of food crammed into one side of his mouth.
“Listen, mister, don't talk with your mouth full,” Helen said.
“Sorry, Mom.” Jonesy smiled, the pizza guts showing through his teeth.
“Why don’t you wanna walk?” I asked.
“Because I think it will be fun to watch you ride on that old bike of yours. I need a laugh.”
Helen said, “Jonesy, that is a perfectly adequate bike.”
“Mom, have you seen it? It's pathetic. It's a one-speed.”
“Those are classic instruments for the development of large motor skills,” she said.
“Huh?” Jonesy asked.
“She’s is talking about your butt,” John said.
“There are no gears, right? So it forces you to use the booty gear.”
“Precisely, John, and I thank you for clarifying,” Helen replied.
“You're just not gonna admit that it's not as cool as my Raleigh Scout, Mom,” Jonesy said.
“Not on your life, big-for-your-britches.”
John and I barked out appreciative laughs. The DNA train wasn't far from the track with his smart-ass behavior.
Jonesy glowered at his mom but she didn't even flinch; tough-as-nails, dug it.
We went outside and got on our bikes. The old dump was really close to Scenic Hill Cemetery, so we parked our bikes there and walked over. It wouldn't be good for some observant adult to see a bunch of kids' bikes in front of a dump.
The sign on the gate read: “Kent Refuse, Authorized Personnel Only, Trespassing Prohibited, Hours of Operation: Mon-Fri: 10:00-4:00.” On top of that was some haphazard lettering: Closed. The top of the chain link fence had spiraled barbed wire.
I turned to John. “What do ya think?”
He pulled out two pairs of gloves. John was always prepared.
Jonesy's eyebrows shot up. “Great! Good thinking, Terran!”
“You first,” I told Jonesy.
Jonesy grunted, threw on the gloves and climbed. Fine muscles bunched and moved in his forearms as he finessed his way up the links, John and I kept an eye on the road while Jonesy climbed.
“Hurry,” John said.
“I am. Can it!”
When he got to the top, he pushed down the barbed wire with one hand and straddled it in preparation for swinging his leg over to the other side.
“Hey!” I yelled.
He stilled, his junk hanging over the razor wire. “What? Kinda busy, doofus.”
“Why don't you stay awhile?”
“Shut up Caleb. It's your turn next,” Jonesy said, giving a nervous look at his balls, which hovered millimeters above the barbs.
Jonesy carefully swept his left leg over and secured a foothold on the opposite side. He removed the gloves and tossed them over the top of the fence.
I caught them and put them on while John pulled on the second pair. Jonesy climbed down the other side. I got them on and stood facing Jonesy. Jonesy smiled and did an elaborate middle finger.
John laughed.
“Have fun with that, Hart.”
A knot of anxiety was like a ball in my stomach. I was gonna do this.
I was definitely not scared of heights.
I took a deep breath and started to climb. It was pretty easy going at first, but near the top, my arms started to shake. Jonesy hadn't mentioned that part. Maybe it hadn't made him tired. He was shorter, but muscular.
I used the same technique for getting over as Jonesy did. I hovered precariously over the barbs in complete terror my arms would give way. But the threat of a testicle-free life kept me stable. Swinging my other leg over the top, I hung there a moment, catching my breath.
“Somebody needs to do some push-ups!” Jonesy sang.
Jerk.
I climbed down and stood beside Jonesy.
“I do pushups.”
Jonesy grunted. “Maybe you should do some more.”
John was studying the gate.
“It's locked John, you're gonna have to climb,” Jonesy called out smugly.
It was a huge chain link affair with a padlock the size of my fist.
“It's got a numbered entry,” John said.
Jonesy shrugged. “So?”
“It's pre-pulse,” I explained.
“Whatever. John, just climb. You're wasting time.”
John started to spin the numbers on the lock, occasionally jerking it experimentally. A minute later, the lock gave way in his hand.
John looked over at us and grinned. “I guess I'll just open the gate and walk in.”
Jonesy put his hands on his hips as John stepped through to our side of the fence. “What the hell, Terran? Why didn't you try that from the start?”
“I didn't think about it until it was my turn to climb.” John tapped his head, “Work smarter, not harder.”
“Okay, smart-ass, go close the gate so adults don't check it out.”
John saunte
red over to the gate, carefully arranging the lock so it would appear locked.
He came back over and we started to search for the perfect spot.
I was thinking the place might stink, but the trash stench was long gone. The dump had been closed since I was little, back when recycling became mandatory and trash penalties had been imposed.
There was a butt-load of tires, old cars and appliances, it was insane!
Jonesy was thrilled, touching and inspecting everything.
John and I stayed on a semi-clear path that meandered and wound through huge hills of old junk. John stopped and looked inside a huge commercial freezer. “Hold on a sec... I've got an idea.”
“What?” I asked.
He pointed at the hill of cars behind the row of appliances. “I think that if those cars over there weren't compressed all the way, we may be able to make a doorway using one of these old fridges. We can kick the back out and find some space behind it that we can use.”
I thought about it for a second.
“Yeah, let's get the Jonester over here and lay it on him.” I looked in the direction where I’d last seen Jonesy. He wasn’t there.
“Jonesy!”
“What?!” came the muffled reply. A head popped out of an old car.
“Come on,” I called. “Stop dickin' around and get over here.”
Jonesy shot his leg out and booted the car door open, its protesting creak piercing the quiet with a squealing groan.
John cringed at Jonesy's subtlety.
Jonesy trotted over and rubbed a hand over his face, covering it with grime. I looked closer. It was like grease, great.
“You've got grease on your face now,” John said.
“I do? Oh well, whatever. I've got soap at home.”
I told Jonesy the plan.
He gave a fist-pump. “Hot damn! What are we waiting for? Let's tear these babies open!”
We separated, searching each one. I found an ugly pink fridge with a oblong handle in the shape of a dart. It looked to have a car emblem embedded in it. Weird.
John studied it, circling around the thirty percent that showed.
“Good size.” He stroked the top that he could barely reach.
The freezer was a behemoth, bigger than some of the fancy fridges in restaurants. John whistled at Jonesy to join us. He walked over from inspecting an avocado-colored beauty.
The Death Series, Books 1-3 (Dark Dystopian Paranormal Romance): Death Whispers, Death Speaks, and Death Inception Page 21