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

Page 29

by Tamara Rose Blodgett


  “I'll think of something.”

  My mind turned to the graveyard not two blocks away. I guess the zombie crew were going to have to start early.

  We needed zombies, (and the Js suddenly appearing wouldn't be too bad either). Were Carson and Brett still out there? I was gonna have to deal with them. Doesn't look like Brett had softened toward me when I lent him a hand with his crazy-ass dad. Huh.

  Jade was mashed up next to me, which was great, but she was my responsibility.

  I had an idea.

  “Are they still out there?”

  “I think so.”

  Okay. I decided that if I just didn't fight all the calling the Dead were doing then they'd just come.

  I let that thread of power slide out of me, visualizing one grave in particular, knowing that probably, in the Zombie Handbook, there was a rule about too many multiple raisings.

  I called Clyde to me, come. Then threw a visual net, using it in my head like a lasso, tossing it around that one grave like a circle. I clenched it tightly, pulling it toward me.

  “What are you doing?” Jade said, sensing something big.

  I heard her voice as if far away, I felt them coming, heading toward the dump. Belatedly, it occurred to me that they may draw some attention.

  I thought, stay hidden... I heard a response... yeeeesss; a hiss in my mind like a razor. I shuddered, the communion with the zombie felt like breathing. Natural and right.

  My voice answered Jade, sounding as dead as what I called, “Getting help.”

  “I think they're here,” she said.

  Outside of the door I heard a scuffle, then shouting, “I told you he'd get those fuckin' dead creepers out of the ground. They're going right for the door,” Brett screeched.

  “Don't worry, I have this under control,” Carson said.

  He was going to burn my zombies, couldn't have that.

  I yelled, “Clyde, rip the door off!” And put everything I had into it. A great bubble of power left me and I felt a moment of extreme vertigo, my skin feeling as if it would slide off my body. Then the world righted and sunlight streamed in, a rotting head poking in as the door hung crookedly off its hinges.

  That solved the locking-us-in-the-hideaway problem, I thought wildly.

  Jade yelped when Clyde poked his head in. Clyde wasn't a chatty guy, he just stared and I said (very literally; zombies were a task-oriented group): “Grab the kid named Carson, don't hurt him.”

  Carson saw Clyde coming and tried to throw a fire ball, which he held, suspended, in the palm of each hand. I noticed that one of my other zombies was frantically beating at the flames on its feet or what was left of its feet.

  Carson was going to need work on his aim. But Clyde was fast-as-hell. Whoever said zombies only shambled, hadn't met my zombies, they could have serious speed.

  I exited the broken freezer door, pulling Jade out as I went. I kept her behind me until I figured out this new mess. I saw something blurring toward me in the periphery.

  Jade screamed, “Caleb, watch out!” and then Brett was on me, both of us rolling away from Jade, our hands swept apart.

  I turned desperately, trying to keep sight of Jade and Brett belted me a good one in my jaw. Hell! I gave him a knee right in the crotch but it glanced off and got him in the stomach. Too bad the damn kidneys were around the back. We grappled. I got on top and punched him right in the head. I sprung up, trying to get to Jade who was very near Carson, but Clyde had Carson pinned to him, his back against Clyde's chest. Carson could move his hands and he was moving his hands... against Jade.

  She stood with four zombies around her, tiny looking, them a rotting back drop, Carson preparing to torch her.

  I didn't hesitate, “Move in front of her.”

  The zombies twitched as one, moving in front of Jade, the one with the burning feet, crawling to be in front of her. Cripes! I'd think about that later, right now Jade needed saving.

  “Clyde, the hands!” I screamed.

  Clyde looked at me, his eyeballs rolling wetly in my direction, a dark understanding lighting in them. Clyde folded one arm across both of Carson's, tightening it like a vise. The remains of one cuff of his sleeves waving small fingers of material in the light breeze, a cuff-link tenaciously hanging on, twinkling in the hazy sunlight.

  “He's breaking my hand,” Carson screamed at me with true alarm.

  “Oh well!” Jade screamed back.

  Huh.

  Clyde was busying himself with bending Carson's hand back toward his wrist. “Now Clyde, don't break it off. Yet.”

  “Yeah Clyde... how's he gonna scratch his ass?” Jonesy asked reasonably, taking a swing at the now-lunging Brett who had crept up behind me to finish our business together.

  “It's about damn time!” I said, ducking out of the fray. “I thought I was going to do all the work.”

  Geez, that was close.

  John followed Jonesy, who was in a full-on struggle with Brett. I turned my attention back to Carson. “Say 'uncle' you troublesome prick.”

  “Screw you, Hart.”

  I just looked at Clyde, who got it, exerting more pressure on old fire lover.

  “Ouuuuuw... tell him to stop,” Carson squealed like a pig.

  “Clyde stop,” I said like I didn't mean it.

  Jonesy and Brett were still dueling it out behind me; distinctive meaty thumping sounds of fists swinging.

  Interestingly enough, Clyde didn't stop.

  “Stop him!”

  “Okay Clyde, stop breaking Carson's hand, for right now.” Clyde slowed his progress but let his skeletal hand linger over the top of Carson's palm, white from the pressure.

  John came up behind me. “Not that this isn't terrific entertainment, but I want to mention that we're not exactly being subtle.”

  He had a point.

  I looked over at Jade who looked a little shocky, huh, better shore her up. I walked over to her, the zombies marking my progress like it was the single most important thing in the world.

  She fell into my arms. “I thought he was going to burn me Caleb!”

  It was lesson-time for Carson.

  I looked over at Brett and saw that Jonesy had him in an elbow lock. Nice. I guess we couldn't deliver them back all broken; the adults would ask about that.

  “Jonesy, get off Brett.”

  “Ahhhh!”

  “Just do it!”

  Jonesy backed off Brett carefully, giving him full eye contact. That was really necessary with Brett, a proven weasel.

  Brett was looking at us all sullenly.

  I glanced at one of the zombies over the top of Jade's head, it was a girl zombie. But I was a believer after Gran and said, “Go watch him,” I pointed to the pile of sullenness that was Brett. The zombie shuffled over there, oops, that was the one with the feet issue.

  Brett stood up, fists clenched (I knew that look), and said, “Get your creepers away from me Hart.”

  “Ah... no, ass-wipe. You locked me and Jade in there then tried to beat on me.” I looked over at Jonesy.

  “No, I beat on him,” Jonesy interrupted.

  I finished with, “And Jonesy had to beat on you. Your butt can just stand there while we deal with Carson here.” I jerked my head to where Clyde stood holding Carson.

  The other three zombies stood there, blankly staring at me, waiting for the next directive. Their rotten smell clung to all of us like loose clothing.

  I turned back to Carson. “Listen, I haven't done anything to you (except for the fire thing at the graveyard), but you...” I thought about it, “insist on driving me crazy, endangering my girlfriend, and hassling us all. Stop it or I'm gonna sic my zombies on you.”

  The zombies took a step toward Carson, Clyde giving an enthusiastic squeeze. “Not now guys, and girl,” I hurriedly corrected, her eyes almost gone but somehow alive.

  The zombie brigade, energetic bunch.

  “Wow, they were going to make it happen there with Carson,” John said.<
br />
  “Yeah, nice,” Jonesy agreed.

  Jade was leaning against me but looking steadier.

  My attention went to Brett.

  “Not so easy, Hart. You need us.”

  Was he high?

  “How do you figure, Mason?” Jonesy asked.

  “Cuz, you've got this hideaway for a reason. I'm thinkin' you're all tryin' to hide from something... or someone. Looks like you're limited on how many of your creepers can help you, right?”

  Damn. If he were really dumb, this would be easier.

  John said, “Here's the thing, this is like a stalemate, like in chess. You're a mundane, Jonesy's a mundane. We're not,” John indicated, sweeping his hand out to include me and Jade, “and Carson is a pyro. That's all of us against you. I think it's to your...” he thought, “benefit, to just go away.”

  “Yeah, don't go away mad, just go away,” Jonesy said.

  “Don't help Jonesy,” I said, maybe I could negotiate.

  “Don't even try Terran. You and your dip-shit friends don't stand a chance.” He struggled against Clyde.

  So not going to work.

  Jade piped in, “Just go now and leave us alone. Find someone else to abuse.” She looked directly at Brett. “You should know better, Caleb helped you,” she said, referencing the fight with the manic gophers.

  “You think he helped me?” Brett bit out. He barked out a laugh. “What do you think happened after you left?”

  We were all quiet.

  “He used me like a punching bag. You made it worse not better, Hart. You think you're so damn good. Because your dad's 'all-that'. Well, you're not. You need to be put in your place, like all the other jerks that think their shit doesn't stink.”

  I felt sick... his dad had beat him anyway.

  “So your dad's a royal dickhead. You wanna be like him, he's so cool?” Jonesy asked.

  John face-palmed.

  “No!” Brett yelled.

  “Then stop it Brett. Stop it now,” Jade said quietly.

  “Oh, you're all nice now that you're with him,” Brett glared at me. “But you have bad taste in dudes Jade.”

  “Ah... how is this relevant?” John asked.

  Right.

  Carson squeezed out, “Make this,” he rolled his eyes up to rotting-Clyde, “dead thing let me go and we'll leave you alone, for now.”

  “Not good enough. Leave us alone, forever,” I said.

  “Fine. Just so you know we're not gonna be friends, ever,” Carson said.

  “Yeah, I think we got the,'we're enemies' thing down,” I looked at Clyde. “Let him go.”

  Clyde released Carson.

  Carson stumbled and glared at Clyde, who unflinchingly stared back.

  “They're not too smart, your zombies,” Carson said.

  “Smart enough,” I replied.

  “Nah, they're dumb. But that one,” Brett said, motioning toward Clyde. “That one is something.”

  I had to agree with him there.

  Carson was rubbing his arms with his hands like he was cold. But I knew it was, I-was-held-against-a-zombie and have eau de zombie cologne on now.

  “Let's split. We'll leave the zombie-lover and his freak friends together. They can get it on in the cave back there in the dark.”

  Carson and he laughed. They're just a couple of comedians.

  The zombies watched the two with dark intent. I was really betting that my residual feelings were leaking some on my zombie horde.

  At the gate Carson turned and flipped us off.

  “He's so consistent it's scary,” John said.

  “He's always a dick, if that's what you mean,” Jonesy said.

  “Yes, that's what I meant.”

  “Are we done yet?” Jade asked.

  I looked down at her, her normally perfect face pale with purple smudges under her eyes like bruises. Maybe she wasn't up to all the zombie fun like the guys were.

  “Ah, yeah. But I think, since we have a group assembled here that we should fix some stuff.”

  “Okay. But, now that they know where the hideaway is it's not a secret,” John said.

  “Secret enough. Carson's a coward and won't want to get mixed up in a thing where adults show up and he's around,” I responded.

  “True,” John said.

  “We got to hurry up because Jade needs to get back,” I looked down at my watch, “real soon.”

  “Okay,” Jonesy clapped his hands together, the zombie-posse turning to look at him. “Whoa! Hey Caleb, call the dogs off.”

  I laughed and John smiled. “I don't think they're gonna get ya,” I said.

  “Maybe. I don't want any special attention either,” he said, gazing nervously at the zombies. Clyde seemed pretty sharp today.

  Speaking of which. “You have need for us this day, master?” Clyde asked, his voice raspy.

  Master?

  “Ah... yes, Clyde. Maybe you and,” I gestured vaguely at the others, “can help with our hideaway.”

  “This is what you would have of us?” Clyde asked, after I explained what needed doing.

  “Yeah.”

  “This is a small thing, this that you require.”

  “Yeah.”

  Jade sorta stepped further behind me. There was a tone in Clyde's voice. I wasn't sure that there could be a different quality to a dead voice but here it was.

  “This magic you have, necromancer, is not a small power. You must think on this thing that you wield.”

  He gave me that level stare, his dead eyes holding the weight of his words. I squirmed under that gaze, feeling uncomfortable.

  “I think you need to give old Clyde here the sales pitch,“ Jonesy said.

  “The what?”

  “Tell him why,” Jonesy said.

  I turned to Clyde, I couldn't believe I was discussing things with a zombie, but I pressed on. “There's these government dudes that want to take me...”

  “The young men that we dispatched?” Clyde asked. The zombies were reacting to Clyde too, splitting their attention between he and I.

  “Ah-no. Actually, those guys just want to beat me up and make us all generally miserable.”

  A look of confusion came over Clyde's face, with like three teeth and a partial lip. I was pretty impressed to be able to interpret any facial emotion.

  “They mean you harm without infraction on your part?”

  That wasn't exactly accurate but I needed to speed this up.

  “Kinda, I don't know. Listen, they're jerks and they don't like me and just enjoy causing trouble. Here's the thing, I need this place to hide in case these government guys are looking for me and I need to escape. Can you and them,” I looked over at the patient zombies (would they just stand there all day and into the night?), “make the tunnel bigger.”

  “What, pray tell, do the 'government guys' wish from you?”

  Persistent as hell.

  John took over, “I think they want to use Caleb to do things for them that are bad, like spy-type stuff.”

  I guess that was pretty good as explanations went.

  “Nefarious things?” Clyde clarified.

  “Yes, exactly those things,” John said, relieved.

  Nefarious was a recent vocab word. They had a witch as the visual prompt from some lame old movie that had everyone singing in it. It meant wicked intent or something.

  “What?” Jonesy asked.

  “Later,” I hissed.

  Jonesy looked offended, he'd get over it.

  “Very well,” Clyde said, straightening the lapels of his coat, what there was of them.

  He looked over at the zombie group silently for about a minute or two. I was just about ready to ask what he was doing when they all shambled over to the freezer.

  “Now this is what I was talking about,” Jonesy said.

  The zombies did the GI Crawl back through the tunnel where I heard a general commotion of metal grinding.

  “Are they lifting up those cars?” Jade asked.
r />   “Yes,” I replied.

  “They're strong.” she said it like it was a bad thing.

  “Yeah they are.”

  She should have seen Gran.

  We pondered zombie strength.

  A sudden thought occurred to me. “I told you guys to piss off? How come you showed?”

  John grinned.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You weren't answering your pulse, I knew something was wrong.”

  “We can't get pulse-signal in there,” I said.

  “For an hour?” John raised his eyebrows.

  “Yeah, I guess that would have given me pause,” I said, noticing that a fine blush had worked its way up Jade's face coloring her cheeks a delicate shell pink.

  Jonesy, not one to let awkwardness pass unnoticed, said, “You guys getting all c.o.z.y in there!”

  Jade wanted to die. I wanted to die. Jonesy... what an ass. But, he had saved the day. Choices, choices.

  “Anyway,” John said. “Let's try to make good and go by the ice cream shop so we can make a pretense of having done what you said you were going to.”

  “First: this is the question we all need to ask ourselves,” he paused for dramatic effect, we all looked at Jonesy, “am I the man, or am I the man?” He stomped his feet, bowing.

  We laughed. Today he had definitely been The Man.

  The zombies trudged back out, and we peered in, John had his LED with him again, God love him! The tunnel tightness was appreciably widened. Even stocky Jonesy could get through.

  We stood up, brushing off our clothes. In the midst of our self-congratulating, Clyde turned his serious rotting eyes toward us and said, “Master,”(geez), “put us to rest now that we have completed this task.”

  I looked up at Clyde, who was a good shot taller than me, realizing that the rotting flesh smell wasn't affecting me much but my friends were at a respectful distance. I couldn't help but notice that Jade's hand was covering her nose and she was breathing out of her mouth.

  I leaned in a little to Clyde, who met me in the middle, his neck making a disturbing sound as his face peered into mine from a hand's breadth away. “I may need you again, because things come up.”

  “What 'things' are you referencing?” Clyde asked through what sounded like mud. Maybe I could put him together better next time.

  “Things like bad people showing up.”

  “Nefarious people?” Clyde reiterated.

 

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