The Death Series, Books 1-3: Death Whispers, Death Speaks and Death Inception (The Death Series, Volume 1)

by Tamara Rose Blodgett

  I sighed, kinda busy here. “Both of you then, just till I'm done talking to these guys.”

  I gave the come over here look to Jade. She came, casting nervous glances behind where her dad was buried under a pile of death.

  I felt better once she was next to me.

  Carson gave me a smug smile. “Having some trouble with the girlfriend's family?”

  “No, just handling things Carson. We're even now,” I said.

  “How do ya figure?” he asked, Brett's beady eyes following us back and forth, back and forth.

  “As I see it, people knowing you're a Pyro will get you big-time attention from some key people,” I reminded him logically.

  “That's bullshit, Hart. You're a damn corpse-raiser.” He gestured behind him to the squall that was the fight behind me. My friends nervously shifted their feet, John making the hand signal, come on, hurry up.

  “We all know what you are now.” I looked at Brett, remembering that he'd found out tonight with the rest of us. “Playing with fire is a pretty important skill pal and you're doing a fine job of managing it,” I said.

  Throwing fire balls had to be illegal somewhere.

  “Let's get outta here, Carson, let him figure his own crap out,” Brett said.

  “Yeah, I was done here anyway. Have fun with that,” he said, motioning to the zombie brawl.

  “See ya, Hart... Jade.” Carson puckered his lips and blew her a kiss.

  “Go guzzle bleach, ya squirrel,” Jade said.

  My eyebrow rose; not just another pretty face.

  We raced over to the zombie pile. It was getting bad, Jade's dad continued to try to pry himself out of the mountain of zombies and they would tumble away like bowling pins. Then Clyde would straddle him and it would start all over again.

  “Stop,” I said.

  All the zombies stood stock still, awaiting the next command. One fell over in mid-struggle.

  Cool. Über-cool. I like.

  “Come on, Caleb,” John urged.

  Right, back to it.

  Jade's dad lurched unsteadily to his feet, his considerable size a factor on smoothness, along with the booze.

  Jade stayed close to me and the guys.

  “You,” I said and the zombies all looked at me. “Not you guys.” I dismissed them with a hand but they continued to stare at me with steady devotion. Uh, creeper.

  I turned back to Jade's dad. “You better just give up.”

  “I ain't givin' up, but I can see when things get challengin',” he said in a slur.

  This guy... what a turd!

  “You have one last chance, girlie, come with your daddy.” He held his hand out to Jade.

  “No,” she said quietly.

  “I see how you're gonna be. I'll fight that bitch sister of mine, and get my kid back where she belongs... under my roof!” He smacked a meaty fist into a meatier palm for emphasis.

  Looking out at my army of dead, his gaze fell back on me like a weight. This close I could see his nose was slightly bulbous, with a fine spider webbing of broken capillaries.

  “And you,” he jabbed a thick finger right in front of my chest, which made the zombies tense. Geez, they were being my emotional barometer. “I won't forget what ya did to me today. You're not normal. This,” he jerked his thumb in the direction of the zombies, “ain't normal. Sometime, when you're not lookin', I'll be there... waitin'. And there won't be no help from any of them,” he said, pointing a finger at Team-Rot.

  Special.

  He straightened to his full height, inches taller than me, looking down his drunken nose at me and my friends.

  At Jade.

  He didn't intimidate me. It wasn't having the zombies around or false bravado. Here was a grown man, Dad's age for God's sake, who had been a bully in school, a drunk as an adult and a child-beating father. I didn't have a drop of respect for him.

  I spoke in a furious, low tone, “don't you come near Jade. You don't know what I can do. You're not gonna hurt her... ever.” My finger shook in front of his chest.

  He could taste my beating on his tongue, but gave a furtive look to the group of patient zombies. He wasn't going to take them on again.

  His eyes narrowed. “You haven't seen the last of me,” he said to no one in particular. Staring a hole through Jade. “You especially, little lady.” And with that, he stumbled off, weaving more or less in a straight line.

  Playing with zombies will sober a person up.

  ****

  That went well.

  The only relief was Carson's ability was almost as troubling as mine. He would be looked at as a teach-and-contain for sure. And knowing that he hadn't even told his butt-buddy Brett? Well that was a surprise.

  There the zombies stood, waiting for orders. I turned to Jade and said, “What do ya say, one more time. I gotta get these guys back in the ground.”

  She looked up at me with eyes shining with unshed tears, uh-oh.

  The Js looked horrified: Girl crying! Girl crying!

  “What's wrong?” I asked.

  A fat tear rode a slow path down her face and she did one of those hitching breaths that people do when crying might make way to sobbing. “I'm so embarrassed!”

  Ah... what?

  Out loud I asked, “Why?”

  “Because he's my dad, and he's drunk and so stupid.”

  Absolutely.

  “Don't worry about him. He isn't going to do the right thing, ever. You worrying about it won't change the way he acts,” I reassured her.

  “Can't pick your family,” Jonesy chimed in unhelpfully.

  John sighed.

  Jade surprised us all by drying her tears and saying a quiet, “You're right.”

  “See, that's what I'm talkin' about.” Jonesy did a dance step to emphasize his point.

  Jade's eyes narrowed. “Don't push it.”

  John smiled, I laughed and the moment passed.

  “Let's get your zombies back in the dirt,” Jade said.

  I held out my hand to her and we clasped them in a tight grip. Two things happened at once, the zombies moved to their respective graves, and I felt a low buzzing. Not voices, but similar to an electrical current. Different than with Tiff, but related somehow. I gave a mental “flex” and the energy moved through me, swirling. Then it found the thread that couldn't be seen, the power moving as a conduit, connected as I was to the zombies.

  With explosive sighs, the breath slid out of their bodies, permanently escaping. Clyde, the main zombie, lingered longest. An expression was in his eyes that went beyond devotion; bright intelligence burning there. I shoved the last of that lingering otherness down to them and thought, die.

  The corpses collapsed on their graves, boneless, like puppets whose strings had been cut. The ground rolled noiselessly over them, like water poured backwards and they were hidden once again.

  Jade released my hand and said, “That is such a weird sensation, it makes my teeth ache.” She rubbed her hand on her jeans.

  The whispering was back, but manageable. Feeding the power made it quiet down to a dull roar, even dead-center in the cemetery.

  I walked over to Clyde's grave. There was something that was nagging at me, something that I should be thinking about but it escaped my consciousness. Too much had happened in too short of time. I was having a brain fart.

  “Let's get outta here,” Jonesy said.

  Nobody had to ask me twice. Tomorrow was AP testing and drug-taking time. I was up for it.

  I'd missed supper, a big, bad one in my house. I pulsed the parents on the way back to deflect The Wrath. The three of us had gotten our stories straight before going our separate ways.

  Jade had protested me walking her home. But with Brett living in her neighborhood and her dad on a rampage, I'd believed him when he said he'd be watching. I told the parents we were just blowing off some steam with the AP Test coming up tomorrow. I'd headed off disaster and wasn't ready to tell them about all the other stuff: Jade's dad, the pran
k that went way-wrong with Carson. And best of all, that we had a fire-starter running amuck. Yeah, that.

  Later, Dad and I put our heads together talking about how I had to have the inhibitor with food and all the stuff I already knew.

  “Dad, are you telling me this because you're worried I won't get it and like OD or something? Or, are you telling me so you feel better in case I do the 'stupid'.”

  Dad laughed. “Caleb, you're funny.”

  I waited.

  “The latter,” Dad replied. That's what I thought, the second one.

  “I knew that you were giving yourself an out.”

  Mom set the bowl of chili down in front of me with the yummy Mexican cheese on top and a huge hunk of cornbread. Time to pork.

  “Dad just wants to remind you honey, since you're such an accomplished pill popper.”

  My eyes rolled up to meet hers with the spoon halfway to my open mouth. “How'd that go over with all the other adults? Pill popper? Nice.”

  “I guess I'll be serious about it when I have to be. Right now humor is the lesser of two evils.”

  “What's the other one?” I asked.

  “Anxiety.”

  Oh. I guess I hadn't given a lot of thought to my parents being worried.

  Okay, off topic. “The cops still cruising by?”

  Dad nodded. “Yes, Officers Gale and Ward were just here as a matter of fact.”

  “You know Caleb,” Mom began while my mouth was stuffed with chili, “you would probably do better to refer to the officers as such rather than cops.”

  Total word-Nazi.

  Dad came to the rescue. “Yes, that's something to consider in the future Caleb. Words are powerful.”

  I took a big swig of milk and asked Mom for the jalapeños and some honey.

  Mom passed the honey and I did an upside down dump.

  The parents watched, fascinated, as my cornbread was obscured by a molten mass of goodness.

  Dad said, “You having some cornbread with that honey, pal?”

  I smiled and nodded

  “Okay, so I want you to get up early for a good breakfast, take the pill, then you can scoot to school.”

  Dad told me he may halve the pill so I'm not in a daze and can actually get a decent result on the academics.

  “Not gonna make me high, Dad?”

  “Yes, that's the total idea.” He smiled.

  So far, except for jerking dead people out of the ground, I hadn't shown aptitude for much of anything. It was kinda funny if you thought about it.

  “It's nicely ironic that Caleb doesn't appear to be blessed with a scientific aptitude but is talented nonetheless,” Mom said, A Point Coming.

  Dad frowned. “I know how you feel about all this, Ali. That we are all meant to be completely unique so the balance works for the cohesive whole. But,” shaking his head as if fighting his own internal battle, “human nature is very predictable.”

  I stuck up for Mom here. “So, you could predict that I'd be a zombie-raiser?”

  Mom automatically corrected me, “Cadaver-Manipulator.”

  So irritating, but accurate.

  Dad got a little bit of a flushed face. Embarrassed? That would be something.

  “No.” He made a steeple with his fingers for his chin. “I certainly didn't anticipate this.”

  That made me stop eating.

  “What did you think I would be?”

  Mom shrugged and Dad said, “Your mother and I had a lot of theories. In the last few years, every parent waits for the Aptitude Tests or,” he paused, giving me a steady look, “the manifestation of a talent to rear its head.”

  Loosening his hands he put his palms out as if to say, that's the way it is for us all.

  “In your case, we didn't need the test.”

  “Thank goodness for that. What if it had been flushed out in the AP Test, then he'd have been whisked away or worse,” Mom said.

  “'Or worse'?” I asked.

  I took another bite of the cornbread, resisting the urge to lick my fingers. I picked up a cloth napkin and started working over my fingers.

  “Just look at the Parker boy,” Mom said by way of explanation.

  “What about him? I've never heard anything about him,” I said.

  “Exactly,” Dad stated.

  CHAPTER 19

  My parents hadn't been thrilled when I unceremoniously stuffed the pill in my front pocket. The deal was, if anyone got a lame idea of checking people's backpacks they wouldn't find the pill. There wasn't a reason I could think of but they were adults and sometimes that was the reason.

  Butt-munches.

  I told my parents my thinking. Mom huffed and Dad mumbled something about my constitutional rights. Whatever, by the time I was able to yak about my rights, they'd be through my gear in a hot second. Especially with nothing allowed in the aptitude testing room.

  Nothing.

  Mom had made pancakes and bacon (thank you God). I was on my sixth pancake, having already plowed through half a pound of bacon.

  Mom grimaced when I was unable to speak.

  Dad looked over his papers, hiding a smile from Mom.

  “Caleb, stop shoveling your food.”

  “Mom! Come have a pancake and stop panicking about etiquette.” I took a swig of milk and the whole load slid down the pipe.

  Mom rolled her eyes. It'd have been impressive but I'd seen Tiff Weller, no one could compete.

  I finally had an empty mouth and told her, “Thanks for the breakfast Mom.”

  My hair fell into my eyes and I whipped my head back and it stayed there. Mom looked at me and my hair then back to my plate again. She gave a big sigh and turned around, getting the next batch of pancakes on a plate.

  “Ah... hon?” Dad called.

  Mom turned with an eyebrow raised. “I think I want something lighter,” Dad patted his belly which was barely over the belt.

  Was that the crap I was gonna worry about when I was old? That sucked.

  I turned to Mom. “I'll suck those up Mom.”

  “Are you sure? You've had six already.”

  Was she kidding?

  “Yeah, Mom, still hungry.” I stood and jerked up my shirt, displaying my flat stomach and ribs.

  Dad laughed aloud. “Wow, doing some dieting?”

  “No, doing some growing, I think,” Mom said, looking at me critically.

  I put my dishes in the sink. Mom came over and gave me a tight hug which I ducked out of the moment I could and not hurt her feelings. Mom was cool but no touchy.

  Dad gave me a hard clap on the shoulder and asked if I remembered the protocol for the pill taking. Yes, I told him. I figured forty times had been enough reminders for the next one hundred years.

  “I didn't remind you that many times, Caleb.”

  Mom and I looked at each other, laughing. No, guffawed. That's what Jonesy called it.

  Dad threw up his hands. “Okay, okay, I surrender. I guess I mentioned it a few times.” We looked at him. “Ah... more than a few times.”

  I walked to the door, throwing my backpack on and launched myself outside. A drizzle settled over me through the cedar slats and I was instantly wet, freaky weather.

  My thoughts crowded inside my head like cobwebs. The Js and Jade were gonna meet at my locker and then we had alphabetical buildings for the testing. Good thing that all the school buildings already had letter of the alphabet names I thought with disinterested sarcasm. I was feeling hyped.

  I ripped open the school door and used my foot to prop it open as a hooded girl walked in right behind me. She let it slam behind her with a satisfying clatter. A tingle went through me and she looked up at me. It was Tiff, shoulda known.

  “Hey Hart. Done any playing in the dirt lately?”

  I grinned, and she grinned back. A vague bruise rimmed underneath her eyes like a shadow. I wonder how she'd explained that to her parents.

  She read my face and said, “They don't know.”

  “Who?” />
  “My parents, bright one.”

  I looked around while kids surged back and forth, the constant noise of their talking in the background.

  I leaned in. “Are you nervous?”

  “Hell yeah. I don't want any attention for this. Maybe I'll just hit a couple of points. I'll get noticed but not noticed, if ya know what I mean.”

  I did.

  “I was thinking about what happened. And, it was damn good that we're not testing in the same building. Since, we're like... a...” she gave a puzzled frown.

  “Radio?” I supplied.

  “Somethin' like that. Whatever it is, I don't want to pop some false-positive crap. Ya know, hit as an all-five-points just because you're in the room,” her eyes narrowed. “Ya know Hart, you're okay... for a boy.”

  Thanks, I guess.

  “But just because we're both,” looking about her furtively, lowering her voice, “AFTD doesn't mean we have to be in the same frying pan.”

  She straightened, about to bolt.

  “Wait... can I count on you?”

  “Well, yeah. I just meant that I don't want to be corralled in some creepy place because of getting sucked into your undead drama.”

  Tell me how you really feel.

  Out loud I said, “gotcha.”

  “See ya later and good luck.” She flipped her hood back, skulking into the crowd.

  I'd been so into my conversation I'd missed everyone standing by my locker. Three faces peered at me through the mess of kids. John had his usual expression of silent mode, the weather awakening his shock of orange hair into a tornado. Jonesy was smiling. The whites of his eyes two twin dots of ivory floating in his face, only to be joined by a brilliant slash of teeth as he caught sight of me coming toward him.

  But it was Jade that made my breath catch in my throat like an errant bubble, captured. She wore coal black jeans and matching short-top All Stars, the laces as black as the jeans. A brilliant green camisole stole all attention inside the v-neck of a tight T-shirt that ended at the swell of her hips. Her hair hung there and as I looked, she gave a subtle flick of her head and one side swept away over a shoulder.

  I realized I had stopped moving forward. With a low chuckle, I resumed my progress across the commons. Jade gave a little smile. Looks like she had sorta figured out I dug her. Maybe she already knew since she was an Empath and all. Go figure.