“I think what really needs to be addressed, Caleb, is what you did out there to the government guy,” Gale said, dabbing antiseptic at the corner of Bry's eye. “That's not part of any five-point I've heard of. The scientists have theorized about that possibility, but they've never had any proof.”
“You mean Caleb suckin' the life out of a bad-ass then juicing up his zombie?” Jonesy asked.
Garcia chuckled. “Yes, I think that's what Officer Gale was getting at.”
Her eyes swept to me. “That will make you even more of a threat.”
“Does that mean you're a six-point?” Jade asked, through the veil of her hair.
She was cuddled up next to me, more on my crate than hers. I leaned over and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
“I doubt it,” I said. “I can't be a first anything.”
“I'm AFTD, Caleb, and I know there is not one documented case of life transference,” Gale said. “Not one.”
Garcia sighed. “I guess your best protection is your father, Caleb. He’s famous, so his son disappearing would be a big deal.”
“Those guys didn't seem to care,” John said.
“Our source tells us they want to do some experiments, that they're not ready to take you forever,” Garcia said.
“Gee, that’s comforting,” Jade said.
“Those dicks don't get to have Caleb,” Jonesy said.
“Yeah, what he said,” Bry agreed.
Of course I agreed.
“How did Parker go from being like Caleb to working with them?” Sophie asked.
Garcia shrugged. “We don't know what's happened these last ten years, what kind of things he has been through. It's anyone's guess.”
“What was his family life like?” I asked
“It was bad,” Gale said. “Sort of the opposite of yours. There was no one to advocate for Jeffrey Parker.”
“So he's a tragic figure now?” Sophie said, arms crossed over her chest. “I don't know if I buy that. He’s an adult. Doesn't he have a responsibility to choose the right thing now?”
“Who knows? Maybe they brainwashed him,” Jonesy said.
“It doesn't matter,” Bry said. “Caleb's AFTD, and so is Tiff. Parker was going to hurt his own kind. He's shit. I don't care what way you color it. He's made his choice.”
Garcia said, “We need to get these guys at their own game.”
“You called them 'Graysheets.' What does that mean?” I asked.
“That’s just a nickname Officer Gale and I gave them,” Garcia said.
“What does it mean, though?”
“It means that they don't understand black and white, right and wrong.”
“Well, okay, that’s the gray,” John said. “What about the sheet part?
“I got it!” Jonesy said. “They cover things up!” He air-pumped his fist with enthusiasm.
I shook my head, and checked my watch. A small web of cracks marred the face.
Jonesy leaned over to look. “Ah-man, that sucks donkey dicks,” Jonesy said.
John said. “Maybe a jeweler could fix it.”
I shook my head. “Right, like anyone even has these anymore.”
Garcia said, “My dad had one of those! Is it a winder?”
“It was,” I said.
Garcia picked up my wrist, moving it beside his ear. “It's still ticking, buddy.”
Gale said, “I think I've patched up these guys as good as they're going to get.”
“You look like a pack of gnomes jumped you,” Jonesy said.
“On your face,” John added.
Tiff gave a small shiver. “Gnomes are creepers.”
I looked at her in surprise. The unflappable Tiff—scared of gnomes?
“Let's get you guys home,” Garcia said.
“What's the plan?” I asked.
“You're going to speak with your dad.”
“He's going to be righteously pissed,” Jonesy said.
“Yeah. He'll be mad because I was screwing around in cemeteries,” I said, dreading the whole thing.
“You're AFTD,” Gale said. “That's like telling a fish not to swim.”
“You're not the kid of a 'famous scientist',” I said with airquotes.
“Are you complaining? Seriously, I thought your dad is cool?” Sophie asked.
“He is,” I sighed. “I just haven't been what my parents expected, I think.”
“But you're hell on zombies!” Jonesy said.
Gale added, “A talent of your magnitude could help many people, Caleb. We recruit people who test as sensitive to traumatic death.”
“I read in some AFTD blog that you can be a one-point and sense traumatic-death,” Tiff said.
“Can you?” I asked her.
“I can sense the dead.”
“All AFTDs can sense the dead. The difference is some are sensitive to the cause of death,” Gale said getting up to leave.
We moved through the tunnel and exited through the freezer. I breathed in the cool night air. The sky was filled with stars tossed like diamonds on black velvet.
Jade admired the view alongside me. “I'm glad to be alive.”
I looked down at her. “I wouldn't let anything happen to you.”
She smiled. “I know. It was scary, but we survived it.”
“Damn straight.” I put my arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.
As we walked to the cars, Gale said, “I'll take the girls home.”
A sense of dread spread through my gut. I didn't want Jade out of my sight. I wanted to see her safely inside her house with my own eyes.
I tried for casual. “I told her aunt I'd walk her home.... how ’bout you take Tiff and Bry home. John and Jonesy live next to each other, so they can ride with you, too.”
“Okay,” Gale said. “Weller kids, Jonesy, John, follow me,”
Jonesy turned around and waved at Sophie. “See ya, Soph!”
She waved back, looking pleased. Jonesy obviously had the hots for Sophie, and the feeling was mutual. Onyx ran over to the cruiser and hopped in the front seat. Jade and I got in the backseat, while Sophie slid in beside Onyx.
I leaned forward and asked, “What about McGraw?”
Garcia was silent for a heartbeat then said, “He's on the take. He's the eyes and ears for the Graysheets, Caleb.”
“What about the other officer? Wade, I think,” Jade asked.
Garcia nodded. “Chuck's a good man.”
That was a relief. There were three good cops at least.
The night slid past, Sophie and Onyx's profiles in the front seat, Garcia's cruiser moving through Jade's neighborhood like a silent trespasser. As Brett's house came into view, the yard still littered with the gopher mounds, a look passed between Jade and I, remembering.
Garcia said, “If I work with McGraw, I have a chance to eventually expose those hypocrites.”
“What are they?” Jade asked.
“People bent on exploitation for warfare, controlling crime for gain. Instead of using these paranormals' gifts for the betterment of humankind, they're scheming for ways to control. It's always about control, about power.”
Garcia pulled up in front of Jade's place. He turned to wink at me. “I'll stay here with the dog.”
Not bad for an adult. Jade and I got out of the car.
The tall fence blocked our view of the house, except for a portion of the porch and roof. I opened the gate and left it ajar. We walked to the front porch, where the outside light cast a soft pool of pale color on the steps.
I grasped Jade's other hand and turned her to me pulling her close until she touched my body in a tight embrace, our bodies married together. Pressing my mouth on her lips, softly at first, my hands slid out of hers, moving to the small of her back. She wrapped hers around me. My free hand working up into the nape of her neck, the silky hair winding around my fingers as my mouth moved on hers.
The door wrenched open and Aunt Andrea stood there, anger making the planes
of her face a brutal thing. As Jade and I jumped apart, her face flushed with high color, rosy under the glow of the light.
“Where the hell have you been?” Andrea asked, anger twisting her words into a snarl.
Jade jumped back, looking shocked and confused. “Ah... I pulsed you—”
“I wasn't going to get into it on pulse, but this boy”—she jabbed a finger in my direction—“is bringing you home too late. It's one twenty in the morning, and you're fourteen years old!”
I stepped back to stand next to Jade. A bulky figure appeared behind Andrea. Jade's dad.
Shit.
A look of terror came over Andrea's face. That was it, the drunk dad had made an appearance, and she was covering.
Jade's dad said, “Get your ass in this house right now. You and me, we got some talkin' to do.” If he'd been shouting, it would have been less threatening. But that soft voice promised bad stuff was going to happen.
“Is there a problem here?” Garcia asked, strolling up the steps behind us.
Sophie peeked around him, eyes like saucers in a pale face. I was betting she was familiar with old Daddy Dearest.
Garcia's hand hovered above the baton he wore on his utility belt, a whisper away from use. Jade's dad shoved Andrea aside, slamming her into the doorjamb.
“Jade!”she shouted in warning, clinging to the wood.
I heard the baton escape its sheath with a high whistle, at the same time that I threw myself backward, with Jade attached to my front. My arm was hooked around her waist, her dad's dinner plate sized hand, brushing the zipper of her hoodie as we flew, my body slamming into the grass behind us.
Every bit of air left my lungs in a single crush.
Slippery ass-monkey.
Garcia jumped off the steps and planted a knee in LeClerc's spine. He pressed the baton into the base of the guy’s skull.
Leaning down, Garcia said with soft menace, “We're taking a little ride, LeClerc. We're going to come to an understanding.”
“No we're not, pig!” LeClerc’s words were muffled by the grass he was being forced to eat. “She's my girl! She's gonna stop being with that boy! He's evil! A dead-lover! Satan worshiper!”
Right, that's me, a star in the basement.
“He's AFTD, in case you're too slow to understand,” Garcia said, losing patience. He got out his cuffs and slapped one on a thick wrist. He was reaching for LeClerc’s other arm when Jade's dad bucked hard, throwing off Garcia.
Moonlight slid off the loose cuff as it dangled from his wrist swinging it down toward Jade. As I rolled her away from that descending hand with my body, his fist connected with her side and she screamed. I let her go. She lay flat on the grass, putting her hands above her face in a defensive position that broke something inside me to witness.
Garcia's not gonna get to us in time.
I rose up on all fours between him and Jade, and he brought up both fists, obviously ready to pound me to get to her. I scooted back to get some distance so I could stand. Then, I leaned back on one foot and brought my other leg around in a roundhouse kick learned in my second year of judo. My heel connected, and his nose exploded with a satisfying crunch.
He staggered back, holding his face with both hands. “My nose! You broke my fuckin' nose!” Blood sprayed between his fingers.
Garcia jumped up, jerked LeClerc’s hands behind his back, and locked the remaining cuff. LeClerc’s frantic breathing caused a big bubble of snot and blood to grow from his nose, pulsing with each breath.
Jade moaned, her hair fanning out behind her, grass stains on her pink hoodie. My eyes burned with the need to cry. But I was the guy here and my Jade was hurt.
“Where does it hurt?” I asked, gently exploring her side.
She hissed when I touched her lower ribs on the right side. I pulled up her lightweight shirt and saw a terrible welt, bright red, in the shape of the cuff, with a grape-colored bruise, blooming at the edges of the mark like an obscene flower.
I looked up at her dad. “You touch her again and I'll kill you.”
He smirked, snot edging toward his mouth as his face was mashed against the ground. “You'll try.”
LeClerc smiled that nasty grin of his, the blood slowing to a trickle, his swollen nose like a clown's.
It wasn't enough damage to satisfy me.
“Caleb,” Garcia started, “... what did you say?”
Andrea and Sophie had their arms twined around each other as my eyes met Garcia's.
“He said he'd kill me, you dumb-ass! He's the one you should be arresting, the zombie-lover!” LeClerc shouted.
“I didn't hear that,” Garcia said, trying for neutral and missing by a kilometer.
Garcia smiled and started hauling Jade's dad away, who shouted over his shoulder at Jade, “Keep your head down, girlie, get away from that loser.”
“Look who's talking,” Garcia said.
“Can I help you get up?” I asked Jade.
She nodded, and I gently helped her to her feet.
Brett jogged over from the direction of his house. “What happened to Jade?”
I couldn't believe the night I was having. There must have been a trouble-find-me beacon flashing above my head.
Sophie answered before I could tell him off. “It's her dad, Brett.”
Brett nodded. “Yeah, I saw him in the cop car,” a range of emotion swam across Brett's features. “What did he do to her?”
I didn't think he deserved an answer, but I remembered that his father was just as bad, so I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. “He was pissed because she was with me.”
“Yeah, he wants her with someone normal.”
“Like you?” I scoffed.
“Maybe,” he admitted.
“Stop, both of you,” Jade said, her face pinched.
Brett and I stared at each other. I could taste the trouble we were gonna have trouble in the future; like smelling rain right before it pours.
I made myself turn away from him, gently towing Jade inside the house. As we stepped onto the porch, I heard Sophie whispering with Brett.
Andrea led us into the family room, and Jade walked stiffly to the couch. Pivoting, we lowered her together as Andrea propped pillows behind her. I looked around and saw a smiling Jade in every corner, photos framing her childhood.
“Don't look at those,” Jade said. “They're dumb.”
“Nah... you look cute,” I said.
She gave me a dopey smile.
Garcia poked his head through the door. “I hate to do this to you...”
“It's okay,” I interrupted. “I can walk home.”
“I just can't have you in the car, as it is, he's fighting it.”
I could hear Jade's dad, hammering his feet against the inside of the car door.
A prince of a guy.
I bent over Jade and gave her a kiss on her forehead. She grabbed a fistful of my shirt, jerking my mouth down on hers, kissing it softly.
“There,” she said. “Now you can go.” She smiled through a wash of tears.
I followed Garcia out of the house and down the path that led to the front gate.
He paused just inside the gate. “Did you mean what you said earlier?”
I could have pretended I didn't understand what he meant, a purposeful misunderstanding, but I didn't. “Yeah,” I said finally. I glanced at the car. Jade's dad was slamming his feet against the back glass. “That gonna hold?” I asked.
“Yes,” Garcia looked at me, taking my measure.
He reached out and squeezed my shoulder. “You're a good kid, Caleb. Don't worry so much about what you'll be. Just keep doing the right thing, and you'll get where you're meant to go.”
He went to his cruiser and opened the front passenger-side door. Onyx flew out, giving a single bark at the cruiser and a parting growl then bounded over to me.
Stroking his head, I couldn't say I blamed him.
CHAPTER 33
Onyx peed on everything ve
rtical the entire way home. Mom must have been watching through the window because she opened the door before I even got on the porch. She gave me a bone-crushing hug. I glanced over her shoulder at Dad.
“Garcia phoned,” he said. People didn't phone anymore, but my parents still used the expression. “And I think it's time you came clean with us, son. He let us in on a plethora of disturbing occurrences.”
I nodded, disentangled myself from Mom, and followed them inside. I walked over to the couch, and Onyx jumped up ahead of me.
“No. Down, Onyx,” Mom said.
Onyx obeyed immediately, hopping down to lie on the floor, giving mom the big-eye.
I sat down. My eyes burned with that grainy and itchy feeling. My parents looked tired, too.
Dad studied me for a moment. “I think it goes without saying that you won't be having quite as much leash in the future. We know there were extenuating circumstances. Garcia said something about Graysheets?” Mom asked.
I went through the whole story. I was so exhausted afterward that my bones ached. I'd never wanted to sleep so badly in my life.
Mom rubbed her eyes. “Well, we can't solve all of this in the middle of the night.”
Dad had his eyes closed, chin resting in the fist of his hand which was balanced on a knee. “Dad?”
He opened his eyes, bloodshot lightning running through them. “Mom's right, but one thing that keeps nagging at me is this EMP phenomena.”
Mom and I both rolled our eyes. Unbelievable! I had nearly been kidnapped, and Dad was dwelling on the electrical snafu.
Mom sighed. “Okay, enlighten us, quickly. What is an EMP?”
“Electromagnetic pulse,” Dad said.
“Like pulse, pulse?” I asked.
“No. Not like our pulse technology, but related. Think on this: what caused everything to stall? The helicopter, everyone's pulses, Garcia's police car?” Turning to Mom, he asked, “How long has it been since our house was compromised?”
Mom thought about it. “A month.”
“That's what we need to address. It's the one puzzle piece that doesn't fit.”
Mom frowned. “Are we safe?”
“For now. I think they'd be fools to attempt to reacquire him anytime soon. Anyway, we can talk about this tomorrow.” He slapped his knees, standing. “Let’s all get some sleep.”
The Death Series, Books 1-3 (Dark Dystopian Paranormal Romance): Death Whispers, Death Speaks, and Death Inception Page 29