Death Whispers (Death Series, Book 1)

by Tamara Rose Blodgett

  I jogged over to the stairs taking them two at a time. Tearing open my door, I launched myself on my bed, scooping the papers up as I fell.

  I bent my head over them and began to read.

  CHAPTER 7

  Chocolate-brown eyes stared through the mist, luminous, shining. I blinked and they were gone. My eyes flicked down at my feet that were bare, my boxers my only clothing. I looked at my surroundings and realized with dawning horror that I was in the cemetery again.

  I glanced to where the eyes had been and the dog stepped forward, an inky silhouette in the midst of an ethereal fog. The mist was wet, swirling around my face, drenching my hair like fingers attached to my skull. With a start I realized that it was The Dog, from the accident.

  He spoke, whispered, thought: Rescue me.

  The eyes bored into mine with an eerie intensity, that connection I'd felt since the accident still tied.

  Images flooded my head from the dog, like a movie running frame by frame:

  A boy, close to my age, throwing the ball. The Dog's pure joy at the chase, the return, and the reward of the boy's laughing acknowledgment of him.

  Then, a stranger that coaxes me/us with food and a terrible trip in a thing of metal that moves. Alarming smells wafting in through glass that is sometimes a hole, too many to identify. Terrible loneliness for The Boy.

  Suddenly, an opportunity to escape the confines of the frightening and noisy box that moves. the Dog leaps out of the hole that is sometimes glass and runs until he finds a road, where he scents two boys. He knows they are close to his Boy in Life and he will find his Boy again. He pursues them.

  His last memory is a metal machine hitting him and his life ebbing. Then one of the boys is there, calling to him. He struggles, deciding he wants to play ball again and be a dog for this boy. He Lives.

  I snap out of the reverie of the dog's emotions, our glances lock, his eyes imploring, and I know, that somehow I am responsible for this life, this dog. The midnight-black tail wags like a friendly exclamation mark, moving the mist slightly. Wait, what was that horrible sound; beep, beep, beep, BEEP!

  I opened one blurry eye, slamming my palm down on the alarm. All a dream! I flopped over on my back. Well, that was freaky. The dog was communicating with me while I slept.

  I sighed, sitting up and swinging my feet around to slap the floor, the warmth of my bed like clinging fingers begging me to stay.

  Ignoring that, I walked over to the window noticing the field shrouded in mist. Tall, Western Red Cedar and Douglas fir trees were scattered like soldiers in battle, leading down to Clark Lake.

  I turned away, feeling uneasy from the dream and went for the bathroom. A shower would chase the lethargy away. I was definitely going to find clean clothes, thinking of Jade.

  But my thoughts strayed back to the dog. He was a part of my life now, whether I wanted him to be or not.

  After showering, great smells made their way upstairs; fried egg sandwiches. Yup, that was it.

  I plopped down in my seat and Dad looked up from his reading. “How did that reading go last night?”

  “Kinda scary.”

  Dad raised a brow.

  “This Parker kid,” I hesitated, “was a lot like me.”

  Mom's hand paused, then landed the egg on the buttered toast. She turned and gave me a look, go on.

  Mom placed the glass plate in front of me with a perfectly centered, two-egg, cheese-laden breakfast. Steam rose from the eggs, the cheese melting at the edges. Ah... bliss.

  I waded in without preamble. “He also 'heard' things from animals. He was off the charts on his aptitude for the AFTD.”

  Dad said, “We know that.”

  He seemed annoyed. That I didn't need. I just found out I had this ability and was trying to hide it. Get the dog, get the girl; no pressure!

  Mom shot Dad a look. “What Dad means, is we'd like to hear anything that you felt could help you with this.” She gave me an encouraging look. I relaxed.

  I used my fork like a knife to shear off a corner of the egg sandwich and popped a satisfying hunk in my mouth. I chewed and watched The Parental Unit.

  “Looks like he could see ghosts too.” Dad shrugged his acknowledgment. That was a typical aspect of AFTD.

  This is where I landed the bomb. “He could control them too,”

  Dad stilled, his whole body stiff. Mom glanced at him and they had a look that passed, one of those annoying ones that said a lot but not to others.

  “That's not good,” Dad finally replied.

  I knew why I thought it wasn't a potentially good thing for me to have but I wanted to hear Dad's thoughts.

  Mom echoed my feelings with. “What are your thoughts, Kyle?”

  “If he can control ghosts... hauntings, rather,” looking at us in that quietly intense way of his, “then that is another useful tool. Dad continued in the well of silence, “Him being a Cadaver-Manipulator is certainly rare, but controlling hauntings?” he threw up his hands to emphasize just how big that “little” skill would be.

  “I guess a little terror would go a long way,” I said.

  “Let me get this straight,” Mom queried. “Caleb is what? A domestic terrorist now?” She looked incredulously at Dad.

  “In a word... yes.”

  We were quiet, letting that potential future sink in. My egg began to cool. Well, nothing was going to get in the way of my appetite. I shifted my gaze to the clock, ten after eight. I stuffed down the remains of breakfast.

  “Have you seen ghosts, Caleb?” Dad said breaking the silence.

  “Nope.” I said, using the last bit of bread to wipe up egg yolk.

  Mom let out a sigh of relief. “I guess we don't have to worry about that.”

  I hated to burst her bubble but....

  “That was the last skill he gained before the government took him.”

  “What year did your reading say that he was transferred to the 'government school'?” Dad made airquotes.

  We weren't dumb enough to think the school was anything more than a farce so they could exploit kids.

  I thought about that. The first year that they could push through their FDA approval for the drug that made us all “reach our genetic potential” was 2015, or 2016? Didn't matter, it was in those years that the first group of teens, nationwide, had been inoculated for a hell of a lot more than Hepatitis B. It had all been in those papers. The more I read, the scarier the connections became. It was starting to stink like conspiracy.

  I said, “I think 2016...?”

  Dad nodded. “Yes, that rings a bell.”

  Mom looked at the clock. “You better skedaddle there.”

  “I have a plan, we'll talk after school,” Dad said.

  I stopped my jog and turned slowly. “You're gonna be here, Dad?”

  “Yes, I'm taking the day off.” Since Dad never took a weekday off unless it he had the barf-o-ma-tic it must mean this was top priority.

  “We'll experiment with your skills.”

  “Don't forget we need to talk about the dog,” I reminded.

  Forget jogging, I shifted right to sprinting until my lungs burned, singing their resistance. That's all I needed: possible detention. Carson was a regular feature in detention hall.

  I burst through the main entrance, the bell shrilled behind me as the two-way door swung back and forth on its hinges, slapping empty air.

  CHAPTER 8

  I plopped down next to John, Jonesy was across from me with his head in his palm.

  “What's your problem?”

  He was absolutely never quiet.

  “Can't wait for Sunday, I'm itching for payback.”

  John rolled his eyes.

  “What is it today, Wednesday?” I asked.

  John nodded.

  “Well, get over that. Let's talk while we work on this.” I looked down, studying my heart-shaped box. Mr. Morginstern sauntered up, hands thrust into his pockets.

  “Good morning gentlemen,” he said i
n his I-love-mornings voice.

  We all said hi.

  Morginstern studied my box and pointed out some rough spots, emphasizing that if those weren't perfectly smooth, they'd hang up the lid.

  “You see this here.” He pointed to an almost invisible bump on the interior arc. I squinted and there it was, huh. I nodded.

  “That is the kind of thing that can make a project frustrating.”

  Geez, really? The whole project had been pretty hard. I wished now that I had chosen a square, like Jonesy, or a rectangle, like John. Mother's Day was coming up. Mom always said she didn't care but if I knew girls and I was getting the hang of that, she would say that but feel bad if I didn't.

  It was a ruthless minefield.

  Morginstern studied Jonesy's box and had a similar lecture for him but pronounced John's as ready for the lid. Jonesy and I both looked at each other in perfect understanding, John just got stuff.

  Morginstern wandered off to bug the other kids and we put our heads together like a football huddle.

  “I'm in deep crap. I read the Parker kid's stuff last night.” Nodding in John's direction, “He had some things that I haven't done yet, but, if I play out like him, I will too. It's even more important that I not spike their radar on the tests this Monday.”

  “Did your dad get the cerebral inhibitor?” John asked.

  I nodded. “Yeah, he's got it and he took the day off because he wants to go over The Plan.”

  Jonesy stuck out his jaw, leaning back. “What 'Plan'?”

  I leaned forward, motioning to get closer. Jonesy's eyes were so brown the pupils were lost in the darkness, John tilting his head, worried.

  “I don't know. The minute we talk I will pulse you and let you know.”

  “Kyle thought it was okay that we knew?” Jonesy stuck a thumb in his chest.

  I laughed. “Yeah, you were there, there's no hiding any of it; the black outs, the fugues...”

  “The cemetery,” John stated the obvious.

  That reminded me. “Have Carson and Brett said anything?”

  We both looked at Jonesy, he talked to everyone.

  “Not yet,” rubbing his hands together with undisguised glee.

  As John leaned forward, his frizzy hair covered an eye. “Don't take this too far. We don't want to hurt them.”

  “Too much,” I said, winking at Jonesy.

  John smacked my shoulder. “Don't give him any ammunition Caleb!”

  Morginstern looked our way. “Get back to work boys.”

  We picked up our sand paper, Jonesy and I hitting the bumps with the eighty grit we thought we wouldn't have to use anymore.

  John got up with a self-satisfied smile spreading over his face.

  “I guess I'll go over and use the jig saw for my lid now,” John smirked.

  “Don't be an ass,” Jonesy said.

  “Yeah, what he said,” I echoed.

  John walked off, his fro of hair flopping as he moved between the tables.

  CHAPTER 9

  It was between bells and I was trying to glimpse Jade. Crap, I didn't see her by the locker. Bending down, I tore open the zipper on my backpack without any of my usual finesse and threw my crap in my locker. I wasn't hauling all that to Math.

  I straightened up and there she was, close enough to touch. I gulped. She'd come to me.

  “Hi,” I croaked out. She flashed me a smile, the kind that reached her eyes. “Do you want to hang out at lunch?” my voice steady, yay for me.

  She turned her head to the side and that long curtain of hair swung forward, hiding her expression. Then she looked back up at me through the veil of her black eyelashes bordering eyes that shone like emeralds.

  God she was beautiful.

  “I'd like that,” she said. Those gorgeous eyes studied me. She wasn't a girl to fill silences with a lot of chatter, another great thing about her. I was making a list.

  The other kids would notice us being together. That's all that kids talked about, how much school sucked and who was going out with whom. Maybe I could tell her about my problem. The Js were cool but you don't show your friends your fear. Girls were better that way.

  As we turned away from each other it slid through my mind that it sucked, only having her in two classes.

  Carson and Brett walked by then, wasting a glare on me. Brett made a pistol hand, taking a “shot” at me as I walked by. Dick. Carson threw his head back and laughed, delighted by his friend's cleverness.

  Jonesy's hairspray idea was sounding sweeter by the second.

  Math dragged by, I couldn't wait to see Jade. John saw me look at the clock and raised an eyebrow. Later, I looked back. He shrugged, his shoulder blades poking out like weapons and went back to studying, his hair a wall in front of his eyes. How he read anything was a mystery.

  Math over, I raced to my locker to get my backpack, slapping my beanie on and took out my pulse. Depressing my thumb on the pad I selected music. Let me see, who to play? I chose the oldies shuffle: Seether, Hinder and Underwhelmed.

  Thinking into my touch pad: volume 15. The screen illuminated in phosphorescent green the correct volume and I thought: accurate.

  Music filled my ears and I hummed a little, sliding through the throng, my mind already with Jade. Jonesy slid beside me, narrowly missing a posse of girls, who giggled as he walked by. He took the time to salute them with a fingertip, winking, which caused another rush of laughter.

  I don't know how he did it, but the girls were nuts over Jonesy. He called it his Undeniable Attraction. Whatever. He was cool, but I didn't see him as manly.

  John came late from Science not even bothering to put his backpack away, heading straight for us and falling into step by me.

  I ran my thumb over the touch pad and thought: volume five... then: accurate.

  “Jade and I are hanging at lunch today guys.”

  Jonesy stopped dead in my path and I missed running into him by a hair's breadth.

  “You're kidding. I mean, are you guys, like, going out?”

  John waited.

  “No, but I don't want the first time that we can actually talk to be around you dorks.”

  Jonesy threw up his hands. “I know you're hot for her, but Bros before 'hos man, bros before 'hos.”

  He looked at John for agreement. John nodded then turned to me.

  Jonesy... so classy.

  “Come on guys! If you had a girl you liked, you'd want to be with her.” I looked from one to the other, they had to see reason. Jonesy sulked. Kids swirled around us on a tide that moved like the ocean.

  John said, “See where it goes today, but don't let a girl interfere with important stuff.” He looked at me in his steady way, his eyes tight and angry. I wasn't going to let my friends' lack of excitement screw my lunch with Jade.

  “Okay,” I said.

  Jonesy looked around once. Traitor, that look said.

  There was nothing but a sea of faces and talking. My Pulse was on the lowest volume. Soothing, retro music wafted through the ear discs that were permanently embedded behind my ears, where the skull is most prominent. Technology rocked.

  There she was! A small hand rose, a lone flag of welcome in the cafeteria.

  I didn't hear the music as I walked toward her, instead I saw the soft triangle of her face, full, deep pink lips, silver hoops catching the light as she laughed with Sophie. Huh... Sophie. I ditched the Js only to have to share time with her?

  Sophie looked up at me, her clear, blue-green eyes full of laughter, turning to Jade she said, “Catch ya later.” She jumped up and away, hurrying to another table.

  I sat down awkwardly next to Jade. She turned to me, small hands neatly on the table. Then she did the unexpected, reaching one of those small hands to cover mine. Instinctively, I closed my hand around hers, grinning like an idiot. Every struggle had been worth it to be in this moment with her.

  “So,” she said, still hanging on to my hand, “what did you want to talk about?”

&n
bsp; I looked down at our clasped hands and my mouth got dry. Okay, Hart, you got this. She obviously likes you, so start with that.

  “Well, I know we don't know each other very well but, do you want to go out?” I stumbled over that last part, simultaneously hoping my hands didn't choose then to sweat.

  She smiled, a little shyly and answered, “I thought you'd never ask.”

  No one in the history of the universe could have possibly been happier.

  “Let's go somewhere and talk,” I said.

  “Okay,” she stood up and stuffed her pulse in her pocket. We made our way into the open hallway. I didn't want to let go of her hand, ever.

  She leaned against the wall and I took her other hand and looked down at her. There were some girls that were actually shorter than me.

  “I'm so glad you finally asked me,” she said.

  It's not like she hit me over the head with clues or anything.

  Jade grinned at my expression. “You're the guy, you have to ask.”

  “That's not true, you could have given me a hint,” I said, miffed, but not really.

  She smiled and lifted my hand up with hers, tilting her head and laying the top of my hand against her cheek. My heart paused in my chest. Her skin felt like silk under my hand. Letting go of her hand I cupped the side of her face, noticing how small it really was. I leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Meet me after band today.”

  She turned her head into mine, smelling like a ripe peach and whispered, “Okay.”

  My stomach rumbled and I laughed. “I guess we better eat,”

  I looked at her lunch tray, girls sure ate weird.

  She saw my expression. “What?” All innocent like.

  I shrugged. “No wonder you're so small, you don't eat anything real.”

  She looked down at her tray and pointed a finger at the biggest offender, the salad. “This is real.”

  I made a grunting noise and she pursed her lips. She gave my tray the look she thought it deserved. Pizza was definitely the food of the gods, I thought with satisfaction.