The Death Series, Books 1-3 (Dark Dystopian Paranormal Romance): Death Whispers, Death Speaks, and Death Inception

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The Death Series, Books 1-3 (Dark Dystopian Paranormal Romance): Death Whispers, Death Speaks, and Death Inception Page 35

by Tamara Rose Blodgett


  Unclassified, my ass.

  Alex looked at Bry, and like he was putting a teacup on a saucer, he gently put the car down.

  It gave a little bounce, settling quickly.

  Nobody said anything for a minute, but Jonesy's wheels were turning, palming his chin thoughtfully. “I guess you'll do.”

  John sighed again.

  Bry said, “Ah, this rounds out the group nicely?”

  Tiff barked out a laugh.

  “No offense, Alex, but you don't look... ah...” Sophie started.

  “No, he doesn't, but he is,” Jade said.

  We all nodded but it was John that said it best, “Maybe we're some kind of variety-magnet or something.”

  Bry nodded. “But, I haven't heard anything about...”

  “Super-human strength,” John added.

  “Yeah,” he looked down on his fingers, ticking off the different paranormal abilities, “A-P,” he nodded to Sophie, “Empath, Zombie-empathizer...”

  “Hey!” Tiff and I said together.

  Bry laughed, and kept cataloging, “Null.” He winked at John. “Smart-ass,” he finished, pointing to Jonesy.

  Jonesy smiled, “Everyone has their job, Weller.” They had a moment while I was thinking of what this would mean.

  “Have you told the teacher that you're most definitely, classified.”

  “No, they're on a need-to-know basis,” Alex said.

  Okay. Who was I to bitch about keeping paranormal skills under wraps?

  “Well, let's not stand around with our thumbs up our asses, let's get to the hide-a-way and discuss crap,” Bry said.

  “I like it,” Jonesy agreed.

  We trooped off to the hide-a-way with Alex in tow.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  I came home to Onyx meeting me at the door. Swinging my backpack on the chair I hucked my shoes off in the foyer and cruised into the kitchen to check for food.

  “Hey, pal,” Mom said.

  “Hey,” I said, rooting around in the pantry.

  Mom didn't even turn. “Don't get in there and toss anything back. I'll have supper ready at 5:30.”

  Damn.

  “You can have a small slice of banana bread to tide you over but no more.”

  Thank God because my stomach was a roaring inferno.

  I sliced a puny bit off the loaf and plopped down on the chair at the kitchen table.

  Onyx sidled up to me, wagging his tail, hopeful. I put a crumb aside to save for later.

  “How was your first day of high school?”

  “Boring,” I said, absently stroking Onyx's black head.

  “What about your AFTD teacher?”

  “Smith? He's okay.” That reminded me, he'd never told us how many points he was...

  The Dog thought the Boy smelled different and wonderful today, he would press his face against the Boy...

  Onyx was being annoying with the sniffing.

  “Knock it off, Onyx.” I said, displacing his nose from my jeans, where it had been glued moments before. He gave me the you're-being-cruel look and wagged his tail. Oh brother, I slipped him the crumb while Mom wasn't looking.

  Wag-thunk-wag.

  “That reminds me, do you have paperwork for me to pulse?” she turned, giving me her full attention.

  “Yeah, it's in the backpack.”

  “Okay, don't forget because they'll penalize us.”

  I think I had that down now.

  I walked over to the backpack on the chair and hung it up on the hook before Mom could rant and got the pulse-pad out and handed it to her.

  She immediately opened it, depressing her thumb on the pad.

  The luminescent green letters sprang to life: Authorized, legal guardian of Caleb Hart, Alicia, mother.

  I walked away, she had it.

  “Hey,” she called out and I looked back, “was it okay without Jonesy?”

  I thought about it, deciding it blew. “Not really. Kinda boring without the Jonester.”

  She nodded. “He'll have another Aptitude Test at Kent Lake, right?”

  “Yeah, but none of us think he's gonna pop anything.”

  “Going,” she corrected automatically.

  I shrugged, thinking back to the hide-a-way conversations earlier.

  *

  “Come on, it's not that bad, Jonesy,” Bry said.

  “Speak for yourself, Weller. No strangeness, no freak-club.” Jonesy indicated all of us sitting around. “No crappy jerks to try and entice into traps.”

  Speaking of which. “Saw Carson today, definitely not on with the truce.”

  “Yeah, what happened Caleb?” Jade asked.

  “Just vague threats but he back-talked Griswold and got a trip to the office.”

  “Nice! Right out-of-the-box? Not bad for the first day of school.” Jonesy said, not without admiration.

  John made a noise in the back of his throat, it sounded suspiciously like a swear word.

  “What Caleb is saying,” he said with a tone of voice that clearly said, sharpen up, doofus, “he is on our radar as possible trouble.”

  “He was never off mine,” Bry said with gravity.

  “Who's Carson?” Alex asked.

  We all turned to him.

  “What?” he shrugged. “I just moved here last year.”

  “A total issue,” John expounded.

  “Clearly... but?” He threw a questioning look at me.

  “He's a fire-starter that hates me and keeps sucking up other losers to stand up and take notice of our group.”

  “Why? I mean, of all the kids to worry about, you're just—”

  “Normal,” Sophie stated.

  Jade nodded, agreeing.

  That was about the highest compliment I'd had in a long time.

  “Except for the,” John put his thumb and index finger really close together, “the little zombie-contingent.”

  There was that.

  Alex nodded. “Okay, does it have anything to do with your dad?”

  Tiff looked at him. “Pretty insightful.”

  “I have my moments,” he squeaked out.

  “Yes, Carson just has to be the most popular, rich, perfect guy,” I clarified.

  “I think he's a dick,” Tiff said.

  I smiled, she did have a way with tellinʼ it.

  Jonesy nodded and John had agreed as explanations went that was spot-on.

  “I don't know, it's been like fifteen years since my dad did the mapping of the genome, who cares anymore, really?”

  They all looked at me.

  “I'm just gonna say it. We're all paranormals because of what your dad started,” Jade said the obvious.

  “It just keeps coming back to that. If he hadn't discovered the markers...” she held her arms out, like, we'd all be mundane.

  Jonesy, who had zero desire for introspection said, “Anyway, back to my important first day of school.”

  Tiff rolled her eyes and Sophie looked on with interest.

  “Everything sucks donkey dicks except for Math, and Science is okay too. The rest—hell—I feel like one of Caleb's zombies in there.”

  I frowned, was there something bad about being one of my zombies?

  He saw my face, waving away my displeased expression. “But, here's the thing, they've moved up the,” he did airquotes, “ʻyou-may-have-a-righteous-paranormal-ability testʼ to this Friday.”

  Really?

  “I guess we can hope,” Sophie said quietly.

  Jonesy gave his full-toothed grin at her, a sparkle in his eyes.

  She grinned back.

  Bry interrupted our conjecture, “What about the cop-angle, Hart?”

  I looked at Tiff, who shrugged.

  “I thought you were gonna call?” I said to her.

  “Nah, let's do it together. Besides, you're the shit and all.”

  Huh. I didn't know about that, but I wanted to help out.

  “Okay, when I get home, I'll let The Parents in on the plan.”


  “Your mom's going to have a bunny.”

  “Why do you guys always say your parents are going to have some random animal?” Alex asked.

  Jonesy looked at him. “Gotta keep up with the verbiage, pal. Gotta be a thinker,” he said, tapping his nappy head with a finger.

  John had to turn and look somewhere else to keep from busting out laughing.

  Tiff saved it. “You're such an intellectual force, Jonesy.”

  He glared at her, “I can be—ya know, you Weller's—”

  I lifted up a palm. “They're mouthy but they put out, Jonesy.”

  “True,” John said.

  “I guess,” Jonesy said grudgingly.

  I summarized, “We need to meet back here and find out what's happening with Jonesy. And I will have answers about what Tiff and I are gonna do about the child-killing-creeper and how to stop him. And, John ...?”

  He turned to me, the ghost of a smile still hovering on his lips.

  “Fill Alex in on everything, he needs to be brought up-to-speed. With the way things work around us, anything could happen and I don't want him to be a mushroom.”

  Alex raised an eyebrow.

  “Kept in the dark and fed shit,” Jonesy said without preamble.

  Nice.

  Bry laughed. “You guys.”

  “They have their charms,” Tiff elaborated.

  “Okay, Friday then?”

  It was settled, we'd have answers and direction for the year, and it didn't include schoolwork.

  *

  “Caleb!” Mom snapped her fingers in front of me.

  Huh? I whipped my head in her direction and I was standing where I'd been lost in my thoughts of scheming.

  “There you are, thought I'd lost you! What were you so deep in thought about?” she asked.

  “Ah, I was thinking about what my friends and I were talking about.”

  She looked a question at me.

  “We are waiting on Jonesy's Aptitude Testing for this Friday and I need to get a hold of Garcia and Gale and figure out the creeper who's doinʼ all the killing and—”

  “Officers Gale and Garcia.”

  “Right.” Whatever.

  “Actually, they're going to be dropping by after supper tonight.”

  Mom wasn't too sloppy of a schemer herself.

  “Okay.”

  “They have to talk about everything with a parent present.”

  “Not for long,” I said.

  “You're not grown-up quite yet, Caleb.”

  “Fifteen in October.”

  “Yes, but not legally independent until sixteen.”

  Dad breezed in, tossing his pulse-top on the couch along with his briefcase thing full of papers, really? Papers? He even used a pen sometimes to write. Retarded.

  “Who is not independent?” he said, messing up his hair with his fingers.

  Mom sighed, noticing. “Our son, honey. He is in an all-fired hurry to grow up.”

  Mom was heating up to a rant.

  “Is this about Officers Gale and Garcia's visit tonight.”

  “Listen... guys...”

  They turned to me mid-sentence. “I need to pulse Tiff and get her and her parents here too. She wants to help.”

  “That's fine. She and her folks are welcome here.”

  I was surprised. “I thought you didn't really dig her that much, Mom.”

  “She has sort of grown on me,” she said in a droll way.

  Dad nodded. “Smacks one a little of—”

  “Jonesy,” Mom finished.

  “That's it!” Dad said, snapping his fingers.

  He came up behind Mom and wrapped his arms around her waist.

  My total cue to leave.

  “When's supper?” Dad asked. “Do I have time to clean up?”

  “Sure, want company?” she asked in that super-awkward sweet voice.

  I looked at them, getting out of there in a hurry. Geez, parents. “I'm gonna go pulse Tiff now...”

  “Okay,” Mom said in a kinda dreamy way, eyes only for Dad.

  Eesh.

  I bounded up to my room, Onyx on my heels. I whipped out my pulse and thumbed it, scrolling through the contact list until I got to Tiff:

  Initializing.

  Glowing letters filled the screen.

  Hey Hart, how's it hanging? TW

  I had to remind myself on a weekly basis that Tiff was a girl. Like now.

  Ah... good. Did my mom get a hold of your mom? -CH

  Yeah, they're gonna be over at your place at 6:30.-TW

  Are ya nervous about the whole deal? CH

  Nah... I wanna kick that guy's ass...killinʼ all those kids, I've never been able to scrub it outta my mind, have you? -TW

  No.-CH

  K... see ya @ 6:30.-TW

  Cya.-CH

  I depressed my thumb and thought: Hibernate.

  The screen went dark and I sat there on my bed thinking about a murder investigation. How the pressure fell on two kids in high school to find a guy that had, so far, killed ten kids. The remains had been found in the old cemetery where the ghosts had been last year.

  Kids our age.

  ****

  Tiff came skulking through the door in her trademark hoodie, black jeans and matching All-Star tennis shoes. (But, unlike Jade... she probably shoots hoops, she had that look) accompanied by her parents on her heels. It was weird to see Tiff subdued. In fact, I didn't think it was possible.

  Her mom gave her a glance and said, “Tiffany, hood.”

  “Mom...” she started in.

  “Do it,” her dad said, looking alarmingly like an older Bry.

  She flipped the hood back, her face revealed.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Hi.”

  “Where's Bry?”

  She rolled her eyes and Mom's eyebrows shot up.

  “He's out with this girl...”

  “Already? Geez, that was fast.”

  “Nah... he's been eye-ballinʼ her all summer.”

  “Tiffany.” Her mom gave her a warning tone.

  She turned to her mom. “It's okay mom, it's just Caleb.”

  I ranked. Nice.

  “I didn't meet her at Gramps?” I said to her as we wandered off to the family room.

  The parents spoke quietly with the Weller's, and I had a chance to look at them. Wow, maybe Bry would be kind of a big dude. Wait, check that; he already was. Mrs. Weller was tall, like a couple of inches shorter than Dad. But Tiff was a shrimp.

  I asked her about that.

  She shrugged. “I don't know, that height gene passed me by but I got hit with the AFTD right between the eyes.”

  “That's not so great of a trade-off.”

  “It'll be cool if we can help the cops,” she said.

  I nodded, it would validate our AFTD asses, that's for sure.

  There was a knock at the door and Onyx gave a soft woof.

  Showtime.

  Garcia came in and introduced himself to the Weller’s; we listened in abject boredom.

  “Gil Weller,” Tiff's dad said, pumping Garcia's hand, “and this is my better half, Shirley.” She stuck her hand out, looking him almost in the eye.

  “Good to meet you, Sergeant Garcia.”

  He smiled in that disarming way of his. “Just call me Raul. I think we'll be communicating a lot. So, no need for formality. This is Officer Bobbi Gale.”

  They all looked at her, way down, she was Jade's size. Maybe she was a buck ten. I gave a little smile.

  “What's so funny?” Tiff asked.

  “I was just thinking about Gramps saying Jade was a buck five, and thinking Gale was about the same size as her.”

  “God. That was the lamest comment ever.”

  “It was Gramps. He just-I don't know...”

  “He was born without a filter.”

  “Like Jonesy, but not.”

  “No, Jonesy is sorta harmless, but your Gramps—he's an old dude that can kick ass and take names.”


  Yeah he was.

  Shirley Weller gave a sharp look to Tiff. Had she heard the swearing?

  Tiff nodded at my expression. “Maybe, she's got, like, super-hearing or some crap. Bry and I have given up, we mime now. We'd rather look retarded than get our asses quarantined to the house.”

  I heard that. But, I didn't have any siblings so I couldn’t empathize as much.

  “Mac's your mom's dad?”

  I nodded.

  “Man, she is completely different than him!”

  I nodded again, polar opposites.

  “It was fun hanging out there this summer.”

  “Yeah, it was. If we still get good weather we can be out there almost to Halloween,” I said.

  “Don't they drain the lake?”

  “Yeah. I don't remember when but I'll ask. My mom will know.”

  The cops stopped all the hand-shaking BS and came to stand in front of Tiff and me.

  Bobbi Gale said, in that contralto voice that so didn't match her, “Did ya guys have a good summer?”

  “Yeah, it's been fun,” I said.

  “Action-less for once,” Tiff said.

  I knew what she was talking about.

  Garcia said, “This will probably change that.”

  Our gaze went to the folder in his hand.

  “First, we need to have your parents pulse their consent,” Gale said, placing her pulse-pad on the coffee table where it sat like a rotting tomato.

  “Gil, are you sure that the kids should be exposed to this?” Shirley asked.

  He turned to her. “We've hashed this over to death. These kids are watching movies that are more realistic than the crime photos. And this,” he pointed to Garcia's burden he held against his chest, “is real. These are kids that are the same age as Tiff and Caleb.”

  I interrupted, “We're ready. What good is AFTD if we can't catch the bastard that's doing this?”

  Nobody corrected my language.

  Gil studied my face, taking my measure, then he turned to Shirley and she nodded. My folks already knew that my life was always gonna be dangerous. They just wanted to be part of it so they could help prevent as much as possible.

  Good luck with that. We'd barely escaped last year in one piece: I was almost beaten up by two different dads, kidnapped by the Graysheets and stalked by the loser-duo, Carson and Brett.

 

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