The Death Series, Books 1-3

by Blodgett, Tamara Rose

  “Nice, Terran,” Jonesy said, his eyes rolling to indicate adult radar had noticed his colorful wording. I stood up, just short of wiping my nose on my sleeve, I looked around, spying the tissue box on Ms. Rodriguez's desk and grabbed a couple of them, blowing the goodies where they belonged.

  “Got any gold, Caleb?” Jonesy asked in front of the Hotness that was my English teacher.

  I wanted to die, could a chasm open and suck me in?

  But, thankfully Ms. Rodriguez was all eyes on John, who looked as though he would burst into flames.

  Wonderful. I took that opportunity to notice that Ms. Rodriguez was dressed very summery today with stiletto heels, a tight, white skirt (very short) and a pale yellow blouse. A lacy cami in aqua flashed (a cleavage-hider, that), her hair all dark and flowing around a face that was... angry.

  “You know very well the rules of decorum in this classroom, Mr. Terran.”

  “Yes, Ms. Rodriguez,” John stammered.

  “No vulgar language, understood?” Ms. Rodriguez arched a perfect black brow like a raven's wing.

  John nodded.

  Ms. Rodriguez turned her attention to us and I dry swallowed.

  Jonesy looked ready to crawl up his own ass.

  Rodriguez narrowed her eyes at me. “Mr. Hart... would you,” she pointed a french-tipped nail at my desk, “gather the trash and food stuffs and get them where they belong?” She indicated the trash separator by her desk.

  Sighing, I trudged back over to my desk. Jonesy looked like he had been struck between the eyes with a hammer. Funny, she sorta had that effect on me too. But, since Jade and I got together, not so much. She was still sweet looking, but didn't take my breath away like Jade.

  John had recovered enough to peer back into my desk. He slid one lanky arm all the way back and came out with a colorful ball.

  “A hackey-sack!” Jonesy chortled.

  “A what?” John asked.

  “See, you're not so smart.”

  “Give it, it's my Dad's,” I said.

  “I want a demo, Hart,” Jonesy said, crossing his arms across his chest.

  “Boys!” Ms Rodriguez almost yelled in warning.

  I leaned forward. “Later...”

  “Okay,” Jonesy relented.

  I stuffed the Hackey-sack in my jean pocket where it made a disturbing bulge.

  “Hey Caleb,” Jonesy looked down at my pocket. “You may want to put that in your back pocket.”

  “Right,” John agreed.

  I stuffed it in the back.

  “Better,” John said.

  We went back to work, John using two pencils to excavate an unknown something.

  It was slimy and gray... no, black. Gross.

  “Caleb, that is truly disgusting,” Jonesy said, awed.

  “What is it?” John said eyeballing it.

  “I don't know.”

  “I want to see,” Jonesy said, leaning forward, giving it an experimental whiff; then he made a barfing noise, running over to the bin labeled Compost and heaved his breakfast into it.

  Ms. Rodriguez left the room, squealing in disgust.

  “That solves it, definitely a food item,” John deduced.

  From the well of the compost bin Jonesy said, “Banana!”

  “Thanks for clearin' that up!”

  John walked it over to the compost bin, giving it a proper burial.

  “I'm going to the bathroom and rinse my mouth out,” Jonesy said.

  “Please,” John said.

  “Thanks for figuring that out. I'll sleep better tonight, now that the mystery is solved.”

  Jonesy waggled his brows. “Look at how I got rid of Rodriguez, huh?”

  That was true.

  Jonesy walked out, John and I scooping out the remaining stuff.

  John said, “How can anyone get three English texts in here? You should be using your pulse-text.”

  “I just like holding the real book.”

  “Three of them?”

  John stacked them in his arms, placing them on the bookshelf. We hardly had real textbooks, everything was pulse this and pulse that. On top were the dedicated pulse readers, all English.

  Jonesy returned from the bathroom as we were leaving. “They're already playing baseball out in the field,”

  “What are we waiting for?” I asked, all of us tearing out of there like our asses were on fire.

  ****

  My belly was full of hot dogs, chips, and all the chocolate milks that were handed out after the games. Jonesy had got a home run and John had got to first base, tripping on the way there. I was busy staring at Jade and got nailed by a bad pitch right on my shin. My leg was throbbing in a distracting way.

  “Look what I got,” Jonesy said, making a loose fan of blow pops in one hand. He looked like one of those magicians who pulled coins from behind peoples ears. I grabbed a grape. Mom would have a turtle if she caught me with sugar. Sugar was evil.

  I thought it tasted pretty good.

  Jade grabbed sour apple. Disgusting, but she did like licorice ice cream.

  John shook his head. “Two for me then!”

  I glanced at Jade just as the sun slid behind a cloud reducing the luster of her hair to shimmering black oil. She caught me looking at her and smiled.

  Jonesy snapped his fingers in front of my face. “Snap out of it, Hart!”

  I swatted his hand away like a buzzing fly, smoothly changing subjects, “What's the haunted plan tonight?

  “I think,” Jonesy smirked, “you can just show up and scare all the ghosts with that haircut your dad gave you.”

  Jade gave me a sympathetic look.

  “How do you know my dad gave me a haircut?” I asked.

  Jonesy looked at me. “Are you really asking that question? Your dad always gives you The Haircut,” he did airquotes.

  “Is it that obvious?”

  Everyone nodded.

  Well hell.

  I ran a hand over my super-short hair.

  “I doubt my hair is going to be enough to scare anyone or anything.”

  “I don't know about that, Caleb,” Jonesy said.

  “Knock it off,” I said.

  “Caleb's right, what's the plan? I noticed it's Friday the 13th and nothing's happened,” John said, hands spread.

  “The day's young,” Jonesy said. “There's plenty of crap that can still happen.”

  “And you want to see... right?”

  He pointed his blow pop in Jade's direction. “She's quick to catch on.”

  “Yeah, Jade's been part of enough of your plans (read: schemes); she's figured out the potential,” John said.

  “Well, it's not any good to creep around and do scary stuff in broad daylight,” Jonesy said, brandishing his sucker with a flourish. “So, I'm thinkin' we should meet around eight, at the cemetery, then weasel over to the shack about,” his eyes rolled up in his head, the blow pop stuffed in his mouth, “say dusk, like ten.”

  John looked up at the sky, partly cloudy. “Maybe bringing my LEDs would be good.”

  Jonesy huffed. “Ah... nooooo... how is it gonna be creepy if you're wrecking it with LEDs? Think, my man!”

  “He's got a point, kinda defeatist,” I agreed.

  “It seems safer though,” Jade smoothly sided with John.

  “What could go wrong?” Jonesy commented, popping a very small remaining sucker back in his mouth.

  Jade gave him an astonished look. “Ah... everything,” in the no-duh voice, crunching her sucker to reach the gum.

  John said, “The gum loses flavor fast.”

  “Yeah,” Jade and Jonesy said at the same time.

  Jonesy and Jade grinned. The gum fell out of his mouth. Plop on the ground it went.

  “Ah, damn,” Jonesy said.

  “Like I said, it loses flavor, no loss,” John restated.

  “I don't care, it pisses me off, I wanted to leech the flavor forever,” he scowled.

  “You'll live,” I said.


  They gave their sticks to me to put in the garbage separator with a plan for eight at the old cemetery. Jade and I leaned in and barely brushed lips, mindful of the Js.

  Jonesy yelled, “Get a room!”

  John gave the regular salute, Jonesy cackling.

  After they walked off I said, “Why don't you pulse Andrea and see if you can stay for dinner?”

  “Okay,” she did the flash fingers and was pulsed and done in less than a minute.

  “It's okay. But, did ya ask your parents?”

  “Nah, my mom won't care. She'll think it's a vacation from the Js.”

  “They eat a lot?”

  “Ah... yeah.” Understatement!

  Walking into the house, Jade leaned in, a fragrant chunk of hair brushing my cheek as we whispered together. “What's that funny smell?”

  “Yeast.”

  “What's that?”

  “It's some ingredient my mom puts in stuff that makes it get bigger, like bread and whatnot.”

  “Oh.”

  Mom walked through the pass-through that leads to the kitchen. “Oh... hi Jade.”

  “Hey Alicia.”

  “Is Jade staying for supper?”

  “It's okay, right?”

  “You bet. It'll be ready in,” she turned to the pulse-clock, synchronized to Greenwich Mean Time, “fiveish, okay?”

  “Yeah, we're gonna go up to my room.”

  “Doors open, Caleb.”

  Jade blushed, awkward-much. “Yeah Mom.”

  “Oh!” she paused, turning. “How was your last day of school?”

  I thought about the rotting banana episode. Pass.

  “It was good. Jonesy got a home run.”

  “Not surprising, he's pretty athletic, our Jonesy.”

  “Yeah he is,” I said.

  We all stood there. “Dad will be home shortly.”

  “Really?” That was different, Dad didn't usually get home until supper time.

  “He knew it was your last day of school and thought it would be fun to play some ball or whatever.”

  That was great but I looked at Jade.

  “Ah, I've got some stuff to do and then I can come back for dinner.”

  “I didn't mean to chase you off, Jade,” Mom said.

  “No,” she laughed. “I'm sure my aunt has something for me to do since I'm going out with friends tonight.”

  “Oh?” Mom arched a brow, all-sharpness. Careful, she was really good at getting to the bottom of secret intent.

  “Ah-huh, a group of us kids are going to explore and walk around,” I said.

  “Who?” Mom demanded, hands on hips, eyes intense.

  “The Js,” I nodded like, of course, “and Tiff.”

  “That tough girl from Scenic Cemetery?”

  “Yeah, she's good to have around, Mom.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “Because she is AFTD too. It just makes things better if some weird stuff comes up.”

  “Is there a plan for weird stuff?” Uh-oh, this was getting close to lying.

  “No. But we didn't think anything bad was gonna happen at Scenic and look what happened there.”

  Mom looked thoughtful, absently correcting, “Going to.”

  “Right.”

  “Okay, who else?

  “Sophie and...”

  “Bry Weller,” Jade supplied.

  “Who's he?”

  “He's the older boy that was there.”

  “Oh... that was an unfortunate incident for him,” Mom said, grimacing.

  Unfortunate incident didn't cover it.

  “Is there some issue with everyone in that Weller family shortening their names?” Mom asked suddenly.

  Jade said, “Tiff thinks her name sounds,” she paused, “too girlie.”

  “What about the boy?”

  “I don't know about him,” Jade admitted.

  “Look at Jonesy. Why doesn't anyone call him Mark?”

  We thought on that.

  Finally, Mom said, “he doesn't seem like a Mark.”

  Yeah, Mark was so wrong for him.

  “Yet, he is clearly Mark,” I said.

  Mom seemed to shake cobwebs away. “Okay, be back by around five and we'll have pizza and salad.”

  Disgusting. I'd drown it in ranch dressing.

  Jade smiled. “I love salad.”

  “I know,” Mom smiled.

  Rabbit food.

  Jade and I did a hug by the front door and she sauntered off. I looked after her, torn between walking her home but not wanting to be freaky overprotective.

  Mom watched me. “You can't protect her all the time.”

  “I hate where she lives.”

  “No, you hate who she lives by.”

  “That too.” I turned away and went to the bathroom to take a shower. I had a layer of baseball grime on me. I looked at the pulse-clock, almost two. Good, a few minutes of peace, then a Jonesy-plan for tonight, with pizza in the middle, a sandwich of anticipation.

  Perfect.

  CHAPTER 30

  Jade and I arrived around eight at the cemetery, Onyx in tow. He seemed to know something exciting was going to happen and wanted to come. The whole group was already there. Bikes were piled up like sardines in a can. Tiff and Bry lived by Panther Lake, so they were there first.

  I looked around, it wasn't dark yet but the shine was off the day. The sky had deepened to a polished azure, that color that only summer can claim.

  Jade and I were holding hands and Onyx's tail would occasionally whack my leg.

  Tiff and Bry had hoodies on (the Weller uniform). My stomach clenched as I caught sight of him. Our last encounter ended badly, he stood a half a head taller than his sister. He was John's height but had fifty pounds on John, definitely a jock. I swallowed nervously, Onyx lowered his head and I thought at him, it's okay Onyx.

  The Boy has put the good sounds in the Dog's head but there was a nervousness that is not typical of the Boy. The Dog became watchful of this group, a foreign pack.

  The Dog approached the big male that was still young, still smelled like boy and sniffed his hand, moving his nose to the female beside him. They were pack, but the others... not. This pack was not his pack. He backed away cautiously, knowing that he must maintain his rude eye contact when his Boy was nervous with this pack of two. The Dog understood when the big male, that was still a boy, looked away that the Dog was dominant.

  This was good, he wagged his tail.

  “It's okay Onyx.”

  “Doesn't seem like your dog likes me much, Hart,” Bry said.

  “Nah... just sizing ya up,” I said because I knew.

  Tiff said, “Hey Caleb.”

  “Hey.”

  Jonesy broke the ice on the awkward turtleness. “Let's get going,”

  I looked at my watch, almost nine already. Looking at the sky, Venus shone faintly in sight, the sky a brilliant sapphire.

  Bry came over and I tensed, Onyx omitting a soft growl. “We're cool,” he said, giving me the guy clap on the back. Not the kind guys did to let you know they could kick your ass. The one they did when they wanted to hug you but that was totally not okay, no-homo, right?

  The group relaxed, Bry setting the tone for the night. Cool, I instinctively liked him for setting it to rights.

  The Dog understood the male and his Boy would not fight. That was good; thunk, wag, thunk.

  We hiked up a steep knoll, Jonesy leading the pack and John, with his LED strapped to his side, following closely.

  Sophie had arrived late, giving a coy glance to Jonesy, which oblivious-him, hadn't noticed. She was taller than Jonesy, what a weird pair they'd make.

  “Ya know, you didn't need to bring a murse with all your safe crap,” Jonesy said, eying up John's satchel-thing.

  “What's that?” Bry asked.

  I was an authority “A purse for dudes.”

  “It doesn't look like a purse,” Bry said, eying it.

  Jonesy turned. “Listen, if it ha
s a strap and hangs off your body, it's a purse.”

  Bry said, all humor, “Jock-straps hang off your body.”

  We laughed and John said, “But those are mandatory.”

  He had a point.

  Sophie let a lone giggle slip.

  “Anyway,” Jonesy said, drawing out each syllable, “John has the,” he paused, “contingency crap in case something happens.”

  “What's gonna happen? We're here to see some ghosts, right?” Bry asked.

  “Well... ya see, it's Friday the 13th... and...” Jonesy began. I waved him quiet.

  “You remember Scenic, right Bry?” I quizzed.

  “Unforgettable, my brother,” he said.

  “Right, stuff like that.”

  Sophie said, “It's okay, there aren't any more Caleb relatives here.”

  “Like that's going to matter?” John said.

  “I don't know, Gran seemed pretty...”

  “Enthusiastic,” Jonesy finished.

  “Yeah,” Tiff agreed.

  “Huh,” Bry said.

  We all looked up at the cemetery. I put my feelers out, there were some old dead here. They called to me like a satellite come to orbit, my teeth humming in response.

  John looked down from his twenty feet away. “Hey Caleb,” he said, just short of yelling, “how's your signal?”

  “Fine, why?” The buzzing of the dead a dull roar in my skull.

  Then... suddenly, a well-like silence filled the void where the dead had occupied. I looked up sharply at John.

  “You doin' the whammy on me?”

  “I am,” John said.

  Jonesy nodded. “...nice John.”

  I turned to Tiff. “Do ya feel that?”

  “Not anymore,” she said.

  I turned to Jade, our hands locked together. “... and you?”

  “Wonderful silence, nothing.”

  “Let go of my hand; touch Tiff.” Jade moved away and touched Tiff. She shook her head. No Empath stuff there.

  John watched us. “She a blank too?”

  Jade nodded.

  Well... damn.

  Bry was around the base of the knoll, about twenty-five feet. Reconnaissance I guess.

  “Hey Bry!” I shouted.

  “Shhh! Don't be an idiot, remember, radar.”