Death Whispers (Death Series, Book 1)

by Tamara Rose Blodgett

  “Not always, but this close to a big nest o' corpses, oh yeah.”

  Everyone turned to look at us and we began to walk again. Jade and I stopped holding hands. She didn't need the overlap and I was straining for control. This was a bad place, I thought belatedly. This much dead were just impossible to ignore for me. Now that Jade wasn't touching me, it was a little better. She was like a radio antenna, she amplified their signal. Kinda like Tiff. Interesting. But Jade wasn't AFTD. Something to consider.

  Jonesy and Carson stood close with Jonesy taking out each item for the science experiment. It looked like a strange hodgepodge to me. Jade shared the same expression. But as I remember, when Jonesy pulled this on us, we had fallen for it. If I was guessing right, he had improved on his original idea.

  Jonesy was all seriousness. The first clue that this whole thing was an absolute farce. He said to Carson, “You take this tube-thingey,” he pulled a bizarre, corrugated tube that looked like something Dad had put by the foundation of our house and Jonesy then pointed to Brett, “holds the other end, while you,” and he mimed depressing the small spray tip of the hairspray can, “spray this crap inside the tube.”

  “Why is it duct taped on this side?” Carson asked.

  Jonesy did a long, slow blink at Carson.

  Wow, he had the IQ of a shovel.

  “It's to keep the Aqua Net inside the tube, Carson.” Jonesy elaborated slowly.

  Carson tried to save face. “I knew that,” he countered.

  Right.

  John sorta turned away and laughed into his hand, pretending to cough. Brett glared in his direction.

  Brett asked the first smart question of the night, “What's the lighter for? How'd you get it?”

  Jonesy smiled. “Swiped it from my dad.”

  I was sorta drowning in the voices but making a colossal effort to quiet them. Gotta get through this. I just wanted these two to figure out that we weren't gonna be messed with, to leave us all alone.

  Carson asked, “You guys did this, right?”

  We all nodded, I gritted my teeth, get on with it.

  Then, just to sweeten the deal I asked, “Scared?”

  Carson lowered his chin like a bull before a red flag, fists clenching and said through gritted teeth, “We can do anything you ass-wipes can do.”

  Resolute, his chin rose and he crossed his arms across his chest.

  Going to plan.

  Almost like it was choreographed, Jonesy motioned Brett over, handing the tube with the duct tape out to him. Carson stalked to Jonesy and tore the can of hairspray out of Jonesy's hand. The top spun off from the force and became a bright pink exclamation point on top of a grave marker. Nice. Jade watched with fascinated horror.

  I sorta knew it wouldn't end well, but it was like the chocolate with the mystery stuff on the inside. I suspected it would taste bad but there might be something about it I liked.

  Jonesy ignored Carson's crap and opened the palm that held the lighter. A ghost of a smile formed on Carson's lips. I wasn't liking that development. He shouldn't have been smiling.

  He leaned forward and delicately plucked the lighter out of Jonesy's hand.

  Jonesy backed away, a little uncertain. “So... Brett holds the duct tape end and you like,” he mimed depressing the sprayer gizmo again, “spray a bunch in there until that's all you can smell, then light the lighter just as you stop the stream.”

  Brett had an expression on his face that might have been some sort of thought process.

  John immediately saw the dilemma and took it in hand, seeing that the whole thing could go sideways.“Look, you guys, if you're chickenshit or something, you don't have to do it. We won't hold it against you,” John said, all sincere-like with a hand laying over his heart.

  We all nodded our agreement that we would definitely not be inclined to spread crap about them in school. Riiiggghhhttt. I could see how John's cleverness was going to work this kink right out.

  “No, we'll do it. I can't see any of you guys not saying anything.” Carson looked at each one of us, lingering on Jade longest. Who stared defiantly back at him.

  “You just remember, we,” he included Brett in this, “have the goods on you, Hart. We know what you are, what you can do. We know who to call...”

  “Ghostbusters?” Jonesy asked, eye alight.

  We laughed, they glared.

  Standing just inside the gate, with unspoken consensus, we moved over to a stand of fir trees, away from direct line-of-sight.

  Avoid prying adult eyes at all costs.

  Brett held the tube up. The black exterior looked very much like the old-fashioned accordions, with the duct tape end facing him, his hands circling it like a steering wheel. Carson readied the can, carefully facing the spray nozzle away from his face and sprayed into the tube.

  Even from a few feet away I could see the mist and smell the God-awful cosmetic smell wafting around. How did women wear that? It meant something that you could set it on fire... ah, hello?

  Carson positioned the lighter, depressing the ignite button just inside the tube. Exactly like what happened to us a year ago, there was a sucking noise. What I didn't remember was that nothing happened at first.

  Then....

  Flames burst out of the open end in an orange tangle, licking along the sides and traveling toward Brett's hands. Just before Brett dropped the tube, Carson leaned into the flames.

  John and I had about exactly three seconds to exchange a look, what-the-hell?

  But when we glanced back at Carson, we saw what the problem really was. The fire hovered like a lover, all around Carson's face but leaving him untouched.

  Jonesy, never one for internal dialogue said, “What the hell is this?”

  That about covered it.

  Brett was backing up, backing away from Carson, who turned to us with an evil grin. Fire was still moving around his face in a wave. He held out his hand and a small flame swept down his arm, blue in its center, burning just above his palm.

  “So, you were saying Hart? You want to go chew some glass? Sounds like a good plan to me.”

  Beautiful, Carson the Comedian.

  We stood speechless.

  Holy hell.

  I guess Carson had the fire thing goin' on and Jonesy, the Plan-Man, hadn't counted on this.

  Zero contingency plan; nada, zilch, zip.

  Shit.

  Brett was well and far away from Carson with a stunned expression. A surprise ability apparently.

  John stepped in, the voice of reason. “Listen, it was just a joke, you've been up Caleb's ass since forever and it was just a little payback. You don't need to torch us.”

  John put his hands out like, just all fun-and-games here.

  “I'm not gonna torch you guys... just him.”

  And with that delightful objective, he did just that, putting his hand back, readying to throw the ball o' fire.

  Everything happened in slow motion. I heard Jade gasp beside me and I gave her a hard shove to get her out of the literal line of fire.

  Jonesy shrieked, “Hey!”

  But it was John that shocked me, stepping right into Carson, the two of them colliding, the fire halting mid-throw. There was a crazy flame floating, suspended between myself and Carson. It moved neither backward or forward, but sputtering and flickering, trying to go out.

  With a roar, Carson leaped forward trying to recapture the flame but John drop-tackled his ass and they both went down. Once John nailed Carson, the flame died out completely.

  “Get off me Terran!” Carson roared, grabbing John by his frizzy mass of hair, pulling him off his legs by his scalp. Now that the fire was out, John had started to get up but Carson, typical jerk-off that he was, just had to get into with John.

  “Hey! Let go!” John gave him an elbow to the nose and a spray of blood erupted. Carson howled and grabbed his nose, kicking John right in the kneecap. John went down holding his knee.

  Well... damn.

  I ran
over to break it up before the whole world figured out that something was going on besides a practical joke.

  And was interrupted by Jade's dad.

  He appeared at the entrance of the cemetery, the wind lifting his sweating hair off his forehead. Fists clenched and breathing heavy, his chest rising and falling, swooping in great lungfuls of air. I was struck by how much he moved and looked like Brett's dad; he was in a lot better shape.

  His timing blew.

  I swung my head in Jade's direction and, prone on her butt (oops, shoved harder than I meant) she gave me the I'm-caught-rabbit-stare.

  He hollered, “Jade... what in the blue hell are you doin' hanging out with this pack of boys?” His face had flushed an alarming purple color as he began making his way toward us.

  He scared me to death, a fine tremble coursed through my body. I called Jade over; she scrambled to her feet and ran. His momentum was carrying him, he was gonna put a hurt on us and I wasn't gonna let it be Jade.

  My next move was as natural as breathing. Instantly remembering that Jade and I worked like complements, I grabbed her hand and flung out every bit of my power over the dead. Mr. Scary was wading through graves, his fists like great meaty hammers, coming to nail us.

  Like a great flowing river, the power left my body: a vessel fully released of its contents.

  I looked over at Jade and she was breathing rapidly. Her eyes so wide the whites showed, the startling green irises standing out, burning like emeralds on fire.

  Like before, nothing happened, then... chaos reigned.

  The graves in front of him burst upward, sod and dirt exploding in every direction. Hands followed; two, three, no... five graves shifting and opening to allow the dead to rise.

  My dead.

  Starting from my toes, the full flesh crawl climbed my body.

  Jade was saying something real soft, “no, no, no.” I released her hand.

  “I think I can take it from here,” I said, stepping away. So much for not raising the dead.

  Like a freight train, Jade's dad hesitated at the junction, not sure what track to choose.

  “What the hell is this?” He flung his arms wide, including the corpses.

  Violence wasn't the only thing that Brett and Jade's fathers had in common. The smell of alcohol preceded him by a mile. Brother, what a loser.

  I had a collection of corpses now standing. Their eyes vacant, waiting for direction, purpose. I stepped forward and they all swung their heads to me.

  “Protect us from him.” I pointed a finger at Jade's dad.

  Her dad wasn't drunk enough to not understand the potential for self-preservation.

  “Come here Jade. You don't need to be hanging out with them losers,” he said.

  That was a joke. Him calling us losers. I looked back at the ass-potatoes, Carson and Brett. Excluding them, maybe he was onto something with them.

  “No daddy. I won't ever come back,” Jade said, stepping forward as if to speak with him. I grabbed her arm. She wasn't going near him.

  She turned to me and shook her head, like, it's okay.

  I redoubled my hold and shook my head back. “No fucking way Jade.”

  The corpses started to get agitated. One in particular. He shambled forward, keeping his eye on Jade's dad, who had begun to inch closer.

  The corpses closed in on him, a tide wave of death to shore.

  Oh geez. This is the one I had raised before... Clyde. Fluke of flukes. In the whole graveyard I couldn't raise a new corpse? I bet raising zombies more than once wasn't a good thing.

  “I have risen again,” Clyde said, his voice full of the dirt-sound I was getting used to. “For what purpose, necromancer...for what purpose.”

  The other zombies, in various stages of rot, stared at me.

  “I'm sorry,” I rushed out. “This guy is going to put a serious pounding on us and I need help.”

  The corpses turned their attention to Jade's dad.

  “A bunch of dead people ain't gonna matter to me boy! I'm gettin' my girl back and there ain't shit from shinola you can do about it!”

  He lunged forward to grab Jade and I felt intent form in my mind, I didn't have one moment to say anything, but the corpses knew.

  They knew what needed doing.

  We were of one mind, the zombies and I.

  The twice-raised zombie (my guy-in-charge, I thought wildly), swung its arm in the path of Jade's dad, clotheslining him.

  His progress effectively halted, he turned, wading into the batch of corpses. He threw a punch into Clyde and all he got for his trouble was some black ooze from the impact with the corpse's face whose teeth gleamed through his cheek.

  Clyde-the-Corpse took the beating, placing a hand on either side of Jade's dad's head, boxing his ears. He howled, kneeing Clyde in the gut. Clyde obligingly rolled down the small knoll, just out of sight.

  Holy shit.

  Jade's dad hissed a sound of fierce triumph and turned to grab his prize, Jade leaning backward in avoidance. The other four corpses took their cue, moving forward as a single unit, laying their collective hands on him.

  An awkward dance began, Jade's dad swinging corpses. They would get up again, restraining him. Meanwhile, Clyde shambled up the hill, steady and slow, making his way toward Jade's dad.

  It was almost funny, Jade's dad on the bare earth, looking like he was drowning in a sea of dead people. He flailed his arms about, trying to grab solid ground and hoist himself to his feet, while a determined zombie would then weigh him back down.

  I let him battle the zombies. When the Js walked up and John said, apprehensively looking at the spectacle of dead bodies, “Shouldn't we, like, get outta here? And, while we're at it, can you get them, you know, back?” pointing to the ground under our feet.

  I spared a glance at the spectacle of struggling. I could hear grunting and some colorful swear words.

  “Are they going to hurt him?” Jade asked.

  I shook my head. “Nah, not unless I tell them.”

  “Hey dude, you sure on that, cuz they seem kinda enthusiastic,” Jonesy said, tilting his head in the direction of the ruckus.

  The zombies had taken things to heart and one was banging Mr. Scary's head on the grass.

  “Hey! Quit that! No head-banging,” I said.

  The zombie slowed the head-banging with a dissatisfied grunt that sounded a little muffled.

  No tongue.

  Carson and Brett were wearing identical expressions of fascinated surprise. It was like a train wreck, you know you don't want to be on the train, but you wanna see what happens. Morons.

  Priorities, priorities...

  “Okay, you two,” I looked at John and Jonesy. “Get Jade home, fast.”

  “What about...” John rolled his eyes in the direction of the dopes.

  Yeah, them.

  I walked over to Carson with the zombie noise part of the background melee.

  I hollered back to Jonesy, “Keep an eye on my zombies.”

  Jonesy's eyes became like saucers. “Who me?” he squeaked out. “Have John do it, he's good at that.”

  John turned to him with a glare. “So I've done so much zombie-sitting, right?”

  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 f
ight 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.