Death Whispers (Death Series, Book 1)

by Tamara Rose Blodgett

  “It's kinda bad that the cops know about it too,” John said.

  “And Brett and Carson,” Jade said.

  “Yeah.... what-the-hell is with Brett?” Jonesy asked, crossing his arms. “He got a death-wish?”

  Jade lowered her head. I put a hand under her chin. “This isn't your fault, you know.”

  She nodded, a lone tear sliding down her face, holding her side she spoke so quietly the three of us leaned forward, “It would be easier on you guys if I wasn't a part of this.”

  What?

  John said, “Ah, Brett has nothing to do with you.”

  “Yeah!” Jonesy said. “He's a wet asshole without help from anyone.”

  Jade laughed and the sadness passed.

  Jonesy nodded, warming up. “And he can join the needs-to-be-flogged group.”

  “Don't forget Carson,” John reminded.

  “Yeah, he's first on the list,” Jonesy said.

  Jade laughed again. “You guys!”

  But we had made her happier, team players.

  “Knock-knock!” A voice yelled from the freezer.

  We jumped.

  “What the hell...?” Jonesy said.

  Jade put a hand on his dark forearm, her hand pale against it. “It's Tiff and Sophie.”

  “Oh, Soph! Great!”

  We all looked at each other.

  “I mean...” Jonesy paused awkwardly, Jonesy was never awkward, “I'm glad they're all okay.”

  Riiiiggghhht.

  “Back here!” Jade said loudly.

  Tiff and Sophie came first, with Bry bringing up the rear, ducking through that last spot.

  Bry's face looked really bad.

  Jonesy said, “Wow, those gnomes really tore you up!”

  That made Bry smile. Tiff looked like she got scraped, but we knew the butt of a M-16 had done it, making the scrape harder to ignore.

  “What about your parents?” John asked.

  Tiff rolled her eyes. “They think he needs anger management help.”

  Jonesy barked out a laugh. “Are you kidding?”

  “No. Remember, it's Bry's job to get the shit kicked out of him every time we go to a cemetery.”

  “Everyone has to do their part,” John said cryptically.

  “Right,” I agreed.

  Bry laughed. “You guys are okay.”

  I filled Bry, Tiff and Sophie in on the fun at Jade's house last night.

  “Sounds like that guy needs to be flogged,” Bry said.

  Jonesy threw out his hands. “Great minds think alike.”

  “What?” Bry asked.

  “Jonesy already thought of that. With a few other key people on the list,” John said.

  “I have a few more people,” Bry said.

  “Some teachers?” Tiff said.

  We thought about that.

  “Kids first, then we start working through the adults,” I said.

  “Nice, Hart,” Bry said.

  I did a mock-bow, laughing.

  We finished up our mutual admiration and trooped down the tunnel, stepping out of the freezer, closing it up for the next meeting.

  Our good mood dissipated like a candle blowing out, smiles fading on our faces as if they'd never been.

  Brett and Carson stood there staring at the group. How long they'd been there was anyone's guess.

  Bry looked around. “What? Did someone die?”

  “Nah... but we have history with these two,” Jonesy said in explanation.

  “Okay, I'm feeling ya,” Bry said, giving the two a hard look.

  Brett asked, “Who's he?”

  “My brother,” Tiff said neutrally.

  Carson and Brett gave Bry a good look, taking in his height and bulk.

  “John?” I asked.

  “I know,” John responded.

  “He your 'pet Null' now, Hart?” Carson laughed keeping an eye on Bry.

  “We can exchange insults, Carson,” John said. “But we're kinda busy so why don't you piss off instead?”

  “That works,” Bry said.

  “I like it,” Jonesy said.

  Brett asked, “What happened to your face?”

  “Who cares,” Carson said, giving Brett a look.

  I was tired of these two. “What do you want?”

  “I've decided to call a truce,” Carson said.

  I couldn't have been more shocked if he pulled a pink elephant out of his ass. Who was he kidding?

  The girls burst out laughing. It was that ridiculous sounding.

  Carson glared at them and clenched his fists, Bry stepping forward.

  Carson looked at him and licked his lips nervously.

  Coward.

  “Don't even think about it,” Bry said, the battering of his face making him look more threatening, not less.

  Brett elbowed Carson, who glared back. “I was just sayin'...that most of us will be at KPH next year...”

  I shrugged.

  “... and, I thought... we could just, avoid each other.”

  We were all silent at that. I couldn't believe that Carson would A) offer a solution, B) really not start shit.

  It was Jonesy that was the voice for the group, “Let's just see how that works out, Hamilton.”

  “Okay, I can do that,” I said slowly.

  He looked out at the rest of the group, each one nodding.

  Promising an uneasy truce would be hard with a proven enemy.

  Brett looked relieved, Carson satisfied.

  “See ya,” Carson said, walking off with Brett, who cast a glance back at Jade.

  I didn't like that.

  Jonesy said real low, so they couldn't hear, “We close that gate from now on, I don't like them lurking around.”

  John laughed. “Lurking?”

  “Yeah,” I agreed.

  Tiff said, “I trust him about as far as I can throw him.”

  “Me too,” Bry said.

  “You don't even know them,” Jade said, puzzled.

  “No, but I know guys like them.”

  “Carson's a pyro.” Sophie said.

  “Oh... great,” Bry said. “Wait, why didn't he light somebody up? Those types always have to show off.”

  “I was tuned up,” John said.

  Bry looked a question at John. “You're the Null? That's right!” he smacked his forehead, then winced. “Last night, you guys were testing that out...”

  John nodded.

  “That works pretty well,” Bry chuckled.

  “We're all just pawns on his chessboard,” John said. “He's made a move, trying to take us off-guard, then he'll strike when we're not expecting it.”

  “We'll have to be expecting it then,” I said, my arm around Jade, who gave me a little squeeze back. “Ouch!”

  “What?” I looked at her, she put her hand to her side.

  “Let me see.”

  “We want to look,” Jonesy said. Wounds fascinated him.

  Jade blushed with all the attention but lifted up her shirt a little.

  Somehow, it looked markendly worse in broad daylight. The beginning of the bruise from last night extended even further, a rainbow now of various shades.

  “Definite flogging,” Jonesy said.

  “Yeah,” John and I both said at the same time.

  A reckoning.

  All of us looked at each other grim faced. Jade lowered her shirt.

  “He's in jail right now, he can't make bail and Andrea won't do it. She won't pay, I know it.”

  “That's the first piece of good news I've heard in the last 24 hours,” Bry said.

  “Let's get out of here. I need to regroup with my parents,” I said.

  Filling in everyone that arrived late, I mentioned my dad had a plan to take the heat off of me.

  “That's good. I mean, they're just going to try for you again if there isn't anything done,” Bry said.

  “He's right, Caleb,” Jade said.

  Everyone nodded. “It's not just me,” I said, looking at
them all in turn. “It's any of us, all of us...”

  “If Kyle can help with an idea, we can maybe have normal lives,” John said, adding airquotes.

  “Okay, pulse us,” Bry said, indicating he and Tiff. “I want to know what's happening. And for the record, I don't trust that weasel, Carson.”

  “Don't,” I said.

  Bry raised his eyebrows.

  Oh. “Yeah, I'll let ya know.”

  He nodded, the girls gave each other hugs, Jade getting handled more carefully.

  “Hey Jade, maybe you should go to the doctor?” Sophie said.

  “Can't. No health insurance.”

  What? “You don't have the chip?”

  “No. Those were being done on a day I missed school, around the time when my mom died,” she said softly.

  Ouch. We let it drop but Jonesy said, “It's alright, if it's a busted rib, they can't do jack anyway.”

  He meant well and Jade got that.

  We got on our bikes, Jade balancing and wincing.

  “How come you rode?” I asked, noticing it hurt.

  “Faster,” she said, breathing through the pain. I balanced my right foot in the dirt, the bike seat riding right under my butt and put a hand on the back of Jade's head, showing her with my eyes I was sorry she was hurting.

  “I'm sorry I couldn't stop him.”

  “It could have been worse, you deflected it.”

  “I guess,” I said. She was “managing” my feelings.

  “Caleb?” John asked.

  Balancing on my toes I turned to him. “Yeah.” My hand slid away from Jade.

  “If Parker said your house was bugged and you guys talked about Garcia, don't the Graysheets know all now?” he asked.

  I had a moment of panic so big that I couldn't breathe.

  John and Jade saw my face. “It's okay, wouldn't something bad have happened by now if they knew?” Jade said.

  My heart felt loaded up in my throat, stalled.

  John shook my shoulder. “Hey, snap out of it.”

  Jonesy said, “Let's just ride to your house and ask your dad, he'll know.”

  I finally breathed out. Couldn't do anything about it right now. I needed to see if the Graysheets knew more, had nailed Garcia, what my dad's new scheme was.

  I nodded.

  “You okay now?” John asked.

  Jonesy gave me a hard guy-clap on my back. “Caleb's okay, aren't ya?”

  I looked at our group, the Js and Jade, yeah, I guess I was.

  Whatever happened after I got home, I had them.

  CHAPTER 35

  I dumped my bike on the front lawn, glancing back at Jade once. She smiled and I rushed through the front door not bothering to close it.

  The parents glanced up at me, startled. “What's the problem Caleb?” Dad asked, rising off the couch, looking behind me for possible pursuers.

  Mom looked too, but it was only Jade and the Js coming through the front door. Mom gave me a puzzled look, with a dash of anxiety thrown in.

  I put my index finger against my closed mouth, the universal sign for quiet.

  Dad nodded and I pointed to the back deck. All of us moved out there.

  “What's going on?”

  “Remember I told you that the Graysheets bugged our house?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, we talked about everything last night, Garcia, everything. Then this morning I told you where the hideout was,” I said in a rush.

  “Oh. Okay, I'll explain. First, we can go back inside.”

  I shook my head no.

  “It's okay Caleb, when I spoke with Garcia, he phoned me from a secure pulse, gave me directions on how to neutralize the bugs, and I answered yes or no. There's no way the Graysheets could have heard. Unless they're telepathic and could understand more than a yes or a no.”

  I let the breath I'd been holding out in a rush.

  “How'd you deactivate the bugs?” John asked.

  “Garcia figured it would be a pulse-based system interface. I used our security system, using the 'terminate all pulse sensors' feature.”

  “Doesn't that flat-line everything in your house; pulse, lights, everything?” Jade asked, Mom was nodding.

  “Yes, our system has an automatic reset, if all pulse is deactivated, it automatically resets all known devices.”

  “Their stuff wasn't included in the start-up because...” I began.

  “It didn't register,” Mom finished.

  “Nice,” Jonesy said.

  “Obvious, really,” John said.

  “They'll know when they can't hear us anymore,” I said.

  “It's temporary, putting the kibosh on their surveillance, which bring me to a new point,” Dad said.

  Here we go.

  “I think we should go to that journalist that worked on those articles that John brought for you to read.”

  “Who?”

  “Tim Anderson,” John said quickly.

  “Yes, that's the man,” Dad said smiling at John.

  “Why? What can he do for us?” I asked.

  “He can make them hesitate,” Mom said.

  “You mean from taking me again?”

  “Taking anyone, Caleb. It's bigger than just you. Everyone that is a five-point should not have to live under the threat of loss-of-liberty. I'm sorry, I misspoke, in your case, a six-point. Your safety is paramount. If we visit Anderson, he exposes them. Keeping the Graysheets planning their next strategy rather than executing.”

  “Let's lift their skirt and make them worry about their panties,” Jonesy said.

  Mom and Jade looked at him.

  “What? That's like a perfect....”

  “... analogy,” John helped.

  “Humph!” Mom commented.

  Sometimes Jonesy really put his foot in it. Dad was making the I'm-not-going-to-smile face which gave his mouth a strange, crooked look.

  “I've already contacted him and he'll meet with us at,” Dad looked at the pulse-clock, “six.”

  I was starving. Even with Jade as a constant distraction, I needed to fill the hole. I looked at Mom.

  “Those pancakes all gone?” she guessed.

  “Mine are!” Jonesy said, sensing food was close.

  “You didn't have pancakes,” I said, suspicious.

  Jonesy discounted my comment with a wave of his hand. “Doesn't matter, I haven't eaten in hours,” he moaned dramatically, clutching his stomach.

  Brother.

  Mom grinned, she loved Jonesy's theatrics. “I have some leftover pizza?”

  John asked, “Is there enough?”

  “Always.”

  As we engulfed the pizza, Jade watched in a sort of numb horror as Jonesy ate four slices in ten minutes; we discussed who would visit Anderson. We decided that all of us going would give more credit to the story.

  “The point is,” Dad said, in between bites of cheesy pizza, “their presence may lend a degree of validity that would otherwise not be there. We'd go there and look like hysterical parents bent on some anti-government zealotry.”

  “But you're not hysterical,” I said.

  “I know that son, but Anderson doesn't,” Dad said.

  “Yeah, Caleb,” Jonesy began, all his pizza crammed to one side of his mouth, hand on a glass filled with pop. “There's a ton of nut jobs out there, waiting to crack.”

  “You're on it today, Jonesy,” John said.

  “Every day, pal,” Jonesy said.

  Jade rolled her eyes and we all laughed.

  ****

  Kent Station was in the valley and that's where the Seattle Post-Intelligencer's satellite office was located. Dad drove up, easily finding a parking spot, completely unheard of in our city of two hundred thousand. We tumbled out, the Js and Jade hanging around on the sidewalk while Dad put his thumb on the pulse-meter.

  The Js tried to sprint ahead to the door. “Hang on, kids,” Dad said, without looking up. Mom was still fumbling with her stuff, piling a hoodie, purse
and her dedicated pulse-reader together.

  “Mom, seriously? The DR?”

  “It makes me frantic not having the option to read.”

  Like she was going to read when we were about to rat on the big, bad super-secret government dudes. Right.

  We walked toward the building, all height and glass. It looked like a giant, sea-green jewel, spearing the sky above us. The huge sign on top read: Seattle Post-Intelligencer, and was illuminated with glowing, electric-blue letters.

  We walked through the door, getting in line for the pulse-body scan. Terrorist threats were such a damn drag. All points of entry: police, fire, media were all protected by Pulse-scan.

  The lady with the Pulse-wand stood at the ready, her bored face primed to do the next wand pass. “Come forward please, arms up, turn-around.... next.”

  I knew Jonesy was going to have trouble with the urge-to-laugh-at-inappropriate-times when he started to cover his mouth. This problem of his was terribly contagious. Thankfully, Jade and I were already through the line.

  But John wasn't.

  Out of the three of us, John being the most serious personality, had the worst trouble calming down once Jonesy began laughing.

  John tried, he really did, but when Jonesy burst out laughing the instant the dour TSA worker said, “Next,” John doubled over and couldn't stand up again, he laughed so hard his head turned tomato-red.

  The TSA gal made it worse by saying, “young man, young man...” she sputtered. “Stand up!”

  To which Jonesy interjected, “Anal-probe! Right here!” pointing over the top of John's back. Which caused John to roar with laughter, falling down on his bony ass.

  The TSA agent pursed her lips in a thin line.

  Dad stepped in and said, “I'm quite sorry about their behavior, it's been a trying day, they're a bit... giddy.” He was trying to calm the storm.

  The TSA gal looked down at John who was on the floor, tears streaming out of his eyes and made an exaggerated grunt, “Get off my floor, young man!”

  Mom and Jade had mouths hanging agape, even my laid-back parents were somewhat embarrassed.

  John got onto all fours and stood up, still making the funny mouth, trying not to burst out again, Mom was talking sternly to Jonesy, his back to us.

  John finally stood up and said, “I'm really sorry about that, I don't know what my problem was.”

  “Arms up,” humorless said. “Turn-around... next!” she nearly yelled.