He managed a good jab to my chin. Hell that hurt, same spot, and I jerked my knee up for a ball-cruncher and he deflected, but it caught enough of his nuts to make his teeth ache. He rolled over on his side just as Garcia grabbed both our hands, bending our thumbs back to meet our wrists. We howled in unison.
“Knock this shit off!” he roared, patience gone.
“Raul! Look out.”
Too late.
The zombies really take exception to my pain, I guess.
Lead Zombie had Officer Garcia's head leaning back, fingers sunk into his hair, the neck a long, clean line for the taking, the metal from the tomahawk winking in the sun.
I screamed, “Stop!” for the first time since this happened feeling like someone may die because of my choices.
The war cries broke the air in a shattering shriek that made my ears ring and my gorge rise.
Alex saved it. Using his wounded forearm, he struck the zombie hard in the chest, the tomahawk falling away in a spinning arc, embedding itself in the gate. The gate swung closed from the impact, at the same time my zombie hit the fence, flying through it.
Garcia was still battling the other two, Brett and my hands long-released from his grip.
“Stop!” I told them and they did. Standing straight to look at me.
Lead Zombie was trying to make his way back through a fence that now looked like it had missing teeth. Leave it to a zombie to try and use the same route. No going through the gate or something simple like that. Oh no, same old same.
Garcia looked like he'd had his bell rung but he got to his feet. He saw Chief Zombie advancing. “Can you make him stop?”
“Not if you pull another 'subdue' number like ya did,” I said.
“Raul, he's right. We know now that all the C-Ms have zombie-loyalty,” Gale said.
Hadn't learned about that in my AFTD class yet. All I knew, for a certainty, was that my dead battalion would pull out a can of whoop-ass if I was threatened. Screw “zombie loyalty,” more like, “zombie vengeance.” It kinda made the line black and white. Sometimes it was nice not to have ambiguity. I smiled at my internal vocab, must've knocked something loose in the scuffle.
Another cop car pulled up. Cripes, was the whole world o' cops gonna show up?
John Smith, the Null, got out of his vehicle and I swear the tension notched up. As a matter of fact, I know it did because my zombies moved closer to me and got their weapons ready.
All the human emotions were leaking all over everyone and the zombies were gearing up for battle.
Holy hell.
The kids were all around the cops and zombies now. As I looked around I noticed that the girls were the only ones that weren't beat up. Well, I guess Tiff was because she got hit by Diego. So, the Weller kids were gonna go home all beat up. Again.
Figure the odds on that happening?
“What's going on here?” Smith asked, taking in the mess. Then, as he looked, really looked, he asked, “Are those Indians?”
“We are Skopamish, white skin,” Lead Zombie said with a tone.
Smith humphed, staring a second longer he shook his head. “Okay, I got the call for backup. What's the problem officers?” Then he caught sight of the pile of gophers and the lingering smell.
“Wait a sec, are these guys,” he gestured toward the zombies, “are they dead?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Wow,” Smith whistled. “I know I shouldn’t say it but, I couldn't tell.”
“Yeah, I borrowed some juice from the girls by accident.”
“Not very good control, Caleb,” Smith chastised.
Details, details. I shrugged my shoulders, so sue me.
“Okay, let's get the chief here and his crew, back where they belong.” He suddenly noticed the vermin running around. “And these guys too. I have to say, Caleb, they're sort of creepy.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Ya think?” Barbie/Christi said helpfully.
Bry tried to shush her but, of course, to no avail, she was just one of those chicks that never got when to shut up. She was a believer in Going On.
The zombies were not believers, picking up on everyone’s mutual prissiness with ole Christi, they moved as one and latched on to her arms.
Lead Zombie leaning close to her face, he laid the only dull part of his blade against the underside of her jaw.
Bry blared, “Caleb!”
“Hang on, it's lesson time for Barbie,” I said.
“You would do very well to hold that pretty tongue of yours when our Master has utterance. Tongues can be severed.” He stroked the underside of her chin with a feather's touch, a degree of finesse I would not have thought possible with a weapon like that. But he managed, oh yes indeedy.
I watched Christi's eyes roll up in her head right before she dropped like a box of rocks in a dead faint.
Well hell, that was super-effective.
Jonesy was restraining the urge for a high five. I couldn't believe it. I think it was the first time I'd witnessed Jonesy actually thinking first.
The zombies lowered her gently to the ground. These guys were smart. They reminded me of Clyde, I thought, having a pang of nostalgia.
“Caleb,” Smith said.
“You've had your fun,” Garcia said.
I narrowed my eyes at him, he was not getting it. “Listen, this dill-weed came on to my girlfriend, by force, started this effing brawl, then, when us freshmen couldn't defend ourselves against the upper classmen and then they started hitting the girls. What else could I do?”
Garcia turned his attention to Diego and Brody, his eyes like slits.
Out came the notepad.
Well, finally. Maybe he meant business.
He did.
“Names?”
“Raul,” Smith said.
“What?” Irritated.
“Let's take care of this first.” Smith said, jerking his head toward the Indian Tribe.
“Right,” he said, tapping his pen on his notepad, then closing it with a snap.
He turned to me. “Caleb, make these Indians,” the zombies turned their dead gaze his way, “ah... Skopamish... go away.”
I looked at my zombies, then at the pile of dead gophers (really dead, as it turns out because by God, fire was a zombie-cure-all).
I summoned that fist of power. It came, like water cascading down rocks, it flowed through me and out my hands and into my zombies, who threw back their heads, lips slightly parted. It felt good for them too. Right, natural.
I said, “Go and rest.”
Lead Zombie lingered, thoughtfully looking at me, then turned, sprinting. They used the gate this time, disappearing through it silently, as silently as they'd appeared.
CHAPTER 10
I had Jade stuffed under my arm, her head just brushing my chin. Garcia and Gale were taking statements while Smith and John talked quietly by Bry's hunk-of-shit car.
I bet they had a lot to talk about.
Gale had all the stuff spread out on the grass from her first aid kit and was trying to patch up all the kids. The Js and I looked a little worse for wear but didn't need attention like Diego and Alex. Alex had gotten his arm cooked and it was a blistering mess. The older two boys were giving him wary eyes. He was worth pause. He had shoved a zombie, which then traveled fifteen feet and blew through the fence. Not any zombie either, a warrior Indian. Skopamish. I was thinking about how they were a nearly humorless people; sitting there stone-faced during the whole incident.
Except for Carson getting the lick treatment. That had been worth nearly the entire episode.
“What's so funny?” Jonesy asked me.
“I was just thinking how funny it was that Carson almost got frenched by my zombie.”
Jonesy nodded, agreeing. “It's some kind of perv-fetish I bet. He denies it but we know the truth.” He tapped his head...feelin' the moment. John nodded and Carson strode over to me.
“Shut your effing mouth, Hart. If you were normal t
his conversation wouldn't be happening, we wouldn't be here,” he said, his eyes shifting over to the cops who had stopped their processes to look at us.
“Caleb, those types of comments aren't helpful.” Garcia said in a tone of voice that clearly said, duh.
Carson smiled triumphantly. My next comment wiped the grin right off his face. “And you're so normal? You and your buddy Diego? How normal is it for you to shove your girlfriend?” I looked over at Ceci standing with Tiff.
“He didn't shove me that hard!” Ceci said defiantly.
“I doubt your dad would see it that way,” Garcia said, giving her a steady look. She looked down at the ground, moving a pebble with her shoe.
There was no accounting for taste but her defending Carson was wrong on about a hundred different levels.
“And then your classy friend smacked Tiff.” I looked over at her, a red welt on her face with a small cut, punctuating my point.
“So, if we're just talking normal, I think you're on the losing end. And,” I held my finger up, “I'd say you being a Fire-starter puts you on equal footing when it comes to paranormal weirdness, ya tool.”
Carson was just not bright enough to connect-the-dots, but he was just smart enough to know that I was showcasing him in the worst possible way.
It was easy, he was such a dick.
He came for me, reaching out and grabbing onto my forearm and I wrapped mine around his as Jade backed away. I used his own momentum against him, carrying him over my extended leg in a judo move that was one of the first I'd learned. He pinwheeled his arms, dropping on his back on the ground, his painful grip on my arm never lessening.
His eyes bored into mine and he squeezed out, “Your deadness is not going to put out my fire, freak.”
Jonesy poked his head in next to mine. “Glad you're a fan, dip-shit.”
Garcia tromped over, tore Carson off the ground and glared at me pointing. “Get in the car, Caleb.”
Ahhhh. Banished to the disgusting back-of-the-cop car, again.
Brother.
Jade covered her mouth so the smile wouldn't show and I gave a half-hearted wave as I grinned back.
Not just a corpse-raiser.
I watched through the window of the cruiser, trying not to touch anything while the cops milled around administering first aid. Garcia had his finger practically up Carson's nose, his attention shifting between him and Diego. Obviously, beating girls got his ire on line.
Good, I hope those losers get what's coming.
Gale, Smith and Garcia finished up and with his trademark notepad put away, he walked over to the car, the girls trailing after him.
Garcia ripped open the car door. “Get out, Caleb.”
I got out.
I could tell that Garcia was steamin'-pissed. “This will go down in your permanent record, Caleb. You've already got your get-out-of-jail-free card, but you have to start taking responsibility for your ability.”
What was that “card” he was talking about?
He looked at my face, sighing. “Never mind, what I'm saying is...when things get hairy, you can't just call out the dead.”
“Why not?” Jonesy asked logically.
He looked at him, Jonesy stared back, no question was off-limits to the Jonester.
“Because it incites the violence that escalated today,” Garcia said.
Jonesy and the group gave him blank expressions.
“What Officer Garcia is saying...” Smith began, and Garcia gave him annoyed eyes. He forged ahead, “is that if you guys had just beaten the snot out of each other, it would have just gone away. When you brought out the zombies, Carson and Diego had to bring out the flames.”
“So no more Team Rot?” Jonesy asked.
Garcia threw his arms up and stalked off. Gale gave him a sympathetic look and came to stand next to Smith, her small body in sharp contrast to his. “We can't show favoritism, Caleb. We know those other kids,” (who had been given their walking papers I noticed), “they're bad news. But if we're to be impartial we have to weigh that you had an army of undead...” Gale trailed off.
“And vermin,” Smith added.
“Gophers,” I corrected.
He shuddered. “Whatever.”
Gale gave him a sideways look and continued. “As guys, they felt like once that barrier had been passed, they had to 'one-up' you.”
“Is that a technical term?” Smith asked.
She smiled. “Yeah.”
“So what is the report?” I asked.
Her look was steady. “Basically, you're on everyone's radar as 'willing to use'.”
“Is that another 'technical term'?” John asked.
“No, that one is 'actual',” Smith responded.
Huh. Things weren't looking up.
“Okay, whatever, I'm down with that but, look at our man here,” Jonesy paused, letting his eyes fall on Alex who was cradling his arm, his glasses perched crookedly on his face. “They torched a limb, they should get their asses handed to them,” he finished, folding his arms across his chest.
Smith had to turn away to hide his expression as Gale said, “Language, Jones.”
Garcia had regained his composure and entered back into the conversational party. “This is when you have to grow up. It's not later, it's now.”
Bry frowned. “That sounds alarmingly lecture-ish.”
Another technical term.
Garcia's gaze swung to Bry. “Yes, and he needs one. Take a look in the mirror when you get home. You keep hanging out with Caleb, and this is what you have to look forward to.”
“Raul,” Gale said as Smith frowned at Garcia.
John shot me a look, Garcia is sorta unraveling.
Garcia struggled with his expression, finally saying, “You're on notice. I don't want to respond to another call like this one.”
“Okay,” I said slowly.
It was Jonesy who was eloquent for once. “I hope the flame-twins got 'put on notice' too.” narrowing his eyes at Garcia.
An expression of rage took hold of Garcia's face and then was gone. But I could feel Jade notice as she drew in a breath. The boys sharpened right up and Gale put her arm on Garcia's forearm. “Let's take off, Officer Garcia.”
His title startled him out of some internal dark spot that festered and clung to him like a shroud.
He pointed a finger at me and said, “Remember what I said.”
Turning, he walked off with Gale, his head leaning next to hers as she said something to him.
The kids waited until their cruiser pulled away. Smith stood staring after them, an expression of puzzlement standing starkly on his face.
“What's going on with Garcia?” Sophie asked.
I shook my head, it'd been weird. Obviously, the Fire-starter team should've had equal billing, especially if you factor in the girls' getting knocked around.
“Something's off,” John said, palming his chin.
Smith shrugged. “Everybody can have a bad day.”
Suddenly, we all heard a chiming sound...and Smith held out his hand and his pulse hovered in mid-air then flew into his hand.
I thought Alex was gonna shit a green apple on the spot. John was trying to maintain non-drool status.
Jonesy spoke for us all, “That is a righteous pulse, dude!” He fist-pumped for emphasis.
Alex floated over to Smith but he was busy pulsing and held a finger up, wait. Then he depressed his thumb again, then one last time. Finally, he looked at Tiff and I.
“Okay, there's been a break in the case I need you,” he gestured with his pulse at Tiffany, (Alex's eyes tracked it like a starving animal watching a steak), “and Caleb to come with me.”
He looked at the rest of the crew, Jonesy, Bry (and stupid Christi), John, Sophie and Jade.
Ugh, that reminded me, I turned to her, “What about your Aunt?”
“She's gone on some 'woman’s wellness' thing for the weekend.”
“Yeah, Jade was picking up her gear to come o
ver to my place. Andrea just left,” Sophie said, her gaze traveling to the pile of gophers.
Huh. That was a lucky break.
Smith and I looked at the crispy critters.
“Okay, one more sec,” he said, depressing his thumb on the pulse-pad again. Finally, he looked up. “Looks like bio-hazard will come and...” he waved a vague hand toward the gophers, “take care of them.” Smith was All That Was Guy, but I could tell Gopher Pile was over the top for him.
He turned away from them and addressed the group, “Okay, the AFTDs will come with me. The rest of you guys: scat, to your respective digs. You got me?”
“What about Ceci?” Jade asked.
Smith turned, one leg in the car. “She took off with that kid...” he thought about it for a second, “Carson?”
We nodded, he was unforgettable to us, for all the wrong reasons.
I turned to Jade. “We can talk later?”
She nodded. The silence clung to us with the weight of unsaid things. The number one being: Why was she talking to Brett? He kept proving his lack of worth all over the place. I frowned; just thinking about it...put me in a crappy mood. We hadn't resolved anything.
She saw my frown and took her thumb, smoothing out the furrow that had appeared between my eyes. Her smile took some of the sting out of leaving her.
I looked at Sophie, “Jade's going with you now?” she nodded.
Jonesy broke in, “Calm down, Hart, you can see her this weekend.”
I was a total blank.
“Isn't Mac having that thing at the lake house?” John asked.
That's right! I forgot about it. Every year for Labor Day, Gramps would do a huge BBQ and all the friends could hang.
I nodded, grinning, a built-in day of fun with the friends and the last bang before summer slid into fall. Nice.
Jonesy said, “Yeah, Memorial Day is worthless but at least we don't have to go to lame school.”
Christi/Barbie rolled her eyes (of course). “It's Labor Day, doofus.”
His eyes narrowed on her. “So how does that change a day off from school?” he said with typical Jonesy-logic.
Alex said, “He kinda has you there.”
She crossed her arms and huffed off deeper into the yard and Bry followed her, trying to sooth her ruffled feathers.
The Death Series, Books 1-3 Page 49
