Death Screams (17 page)

And determined.

It was enough of a deflection that the blade sunk into the meaty part of Diego's shoulder, directly underneath his collarbone. It was a far cry from where it had been headed.

The heart.

The zombie dumped Diego, his wailing causing Helen to scowl.

That was the funniest part of the night. Helen was definitely immune.

He turned on Gale with a hiss, obviously pissed at his foiled stabbing. "Necromancer, you have caused my strike to not be true," his breath rattled out, death fumes vaporizing anyone within three feet.

Gale was probably scared but she was coughing and doing the pre-retch because of the smell.

A gun went off in the air and everyone jumped but the zombies. They turned their death glare on Garcia with menace and new focus. The Chief turned to me with a questioning look and I gave a slight shake of my head.

Inside the house, Micah began wailing.

Great.

Helen huffed and shaking her head, rushed inside.

Gale turned to me for a translation of... injun.

I opened my mouth to answer when Gramps interpreted for me, "You queered his aim."

The Chief looked at Gramps with something like appreciation.

He understood Gramps. Interesting.

Garcia shook his head, his gun smoking. He looked at each of our faces, then scowled at Gale. "Okay. Maybe it's just me, but I'm starting to think that my life would be easier if I just hung out with you, Caleb."

Jonesy said, "Can't beat that logic, my man."

Garcia threw up his hands and walked it off.

The zombies stood still. And believe me, when they wanted to be, they could be like statues.

Gale slunk out of the way of the closest zombie and walked over to me, her thumb jammed into her pulse pad.

Meanwhile, Archer was on his knees by Diego playing medic. Now that was true irony. Bet Diego never thought that the guy he'd beat up was going to save him.

Tiff strolled over there and yelled at Diego on the ground, her foot crushing the mask he'd worn with a viciously placed jab underneath her heel, "You'll be okay, Diego." The hilt of the blade stuck out of his body like a rude exclamation mark. The mask broke into pieces and as she turned Gramps looked at her, then looked at Christi. "Stand up job there, Missy."

Tiff grinned, shoving a fresh stick of gum in a mouth that was bloody from the sucker punch delivered by Barbie. "Thanks."

Mom said, "I want a birthday for our son that is zombie and hoodlum-free. Why is that not possible?" Dad put his arm around her, saying nothing.

Helen came outside with Micah and scowled at everyone. "She was sleeping so peacefully!"

Garcia blinked at her once. Then came to himself, flipping open his notepad just as the medics arrived, then looked at me and my zombies. "I think, they can... " he trailed off.

"Okay," I said. He wanted me to make the zombies disappear.

They were really tuned in and came over to me, bodies straight, quivers slung over shoulders and torsos decorated with warpaint. Their feathers and beads, level and tight in their bindings.

"Master," the Chief intoned, his cadence clipped and formal.

"Thank you again for coming to my call, Tribe of the Skopamish," I said, even as I knew I hadn't called them. Once raised, it was lookin' like the second time was a cup running over, the power its own beast, running amok while I wasn't looking. Leaking out in search of what it sought.

The Dead.

His head titled, the feather that sat up at attention on the back of his head doing the lean. "We knew you were here, Master."

That was interesting. "You knew?"

He nodded. "We can feel you... above the place where we dwell in slumber."

I looked over at Gramps to see if he was catching this and he nodded. He was listening.

I shifted my weight. "You need to go back now... to your resting place."

He frowned, giving me his solemn regard. "We await your return."

"Thank you," I said and he inclined his head. These zombies were not the most chatty I'd raised. I gave his shoulder a man-clap and he gave me the barest of Mona Lisa smiles, a sliver of that rotting mouth showing, then it was gone.

I looked at him. Actually, I looked slightly down at him. They were not tall men. Sinewy, muscled, hard and lean. Dangerous. He looked over at Diego and gave me one last parting comment, "That one will transgress again."

I nodded. No shit.

I glanced briefly at Jade, who was standing by Sophie and John. Safe and uninjured. At least there was that.

I walked to the lawn, three eruptions of dirt and the meat of the earth splattered in crumpled bits around the lawn. They walked over to their respective places and like candy in tubes, stood over the holes. The ground rippled under their feet, the push of my power reversing, flowing over their bodies, the mingling of the surge finding their resonating signatures. They shot down into their graves like torpedoes, honing in on a signal only they could track.

And me.

The medics piled Diego in the back of the ambulance and off he went in a wash of blue and red lights, bursting from a strobe on top of the vehicle.

"Have you pulsed the parents?" Garcia asked Gale.

"Yes."

He nodded, notepad open, pen poised. "Okay, Mr. O'Brien, can you start from the top and give me the total run down one more time?"

Gramps sighed, going over the whole episode again.

Jade and Sophie were by the gate, handing out candy for the trick-or-treaters. Carson's group, including Buddy and a beat-up Christi were being interrogated by Gale. Christi's attention was caught up in Tiff, shooting her dirty looks about every three seconds.

Finally, with the interviews over and the candy gone, Garcia herded the group together. Archer hung back as far as he could get away with, warily gazing at Carson and Crew.

"Here it is," he said as he looked at Carson. "One more altercation instigated by you or any one of the kids you run with and it will be jail time. You're of emancipated age, correct?" Garcia said, not really asking.

"Yeah," Carson answered, sullen.

Garcia let the silence stretch out until Carson responded with a little more enthusiasm, his eyes dropping from Garcia's.

Garcia went over, in detail, his rights as an Emancipated Adult. The days of eighteen being the Big One were over. Now, if you transgressed illegally, you could have your ass hauled in and thrown in the old slammer.

Carson was skirting that fine edge. He was about ready to be screwed out of a get-out-of-jail-free card. That was the one Garcia talked about last year. I think my understanding had caught up with that.

Gramps looked at Archer and said caustically, "Looks like I'm going to be headed down to that courthouse again."

Lewis raised a brow.

"Restraining orders." He looked around at the assembled jerks, his eyes flicking to Christi again and that garnered a smirk, she glared back, one eye swelling shut as I watched. "Several restraining orders."

"Do you think that's really necessary, Mr. O'Brien?" Garcia asked. Then he added, "I think they will think twice about coming on your property again."

"I think this group are slow learners. They may need The Solution."

Garcia's brows came down above his eyes in a thud. "What does that mean?" he asked slowly.

"What it means is I would then be in a position of strength." His eyes landed on Carson. "That's right, ya candy ass. The next time you think you can take on my old ass, you better have more than those two hands and an attitude. If you set foot on my property, I'll have the proper paperwork to back up my solution."

Carson said, "Yeah, my dad will take care of you. Even I know you're breaching all kinds of environmental crap here." He swung his hand out at the extensive environmental rejection of Gramps' property.

Gramps gave the first grin since the cops showed up. "He can try. I cross my T's and dot my I's. As Caleb would say,
bring it
."

Huh.

Garcia frowned. "Do I want to ask what The Solution is?"

Mom moaned in the background and Garcia's frown deepened.

"Nope. But everything I got is a-okay. Cleared. Legal-for-me-to-possess. So no worries." Gramps shrugged then turned his attention to Carson. "Leave. Now."

Garcia nodded. "Go ahead and go home. Now, just because you're emancipated does not mean that your parents, as guardians, will not be notified of this incident. That you keep cropping up as a perpetrator does not bode well for you, Mr. Hamilton. But," he tapped his notepad, flipping it shut and pushing it into the chest pocket of his uniform, "you did show some restraint with not using your Pyrokenetic ability."

Everyone's eyes swung to me. I could feel the heat in my face and was totally grateful for the night that would hide my embarrassment. Jade had moved up quietly behind me, slipping her small hand into mine. My shoulders relaxed, her presence comforting.

"This will be your second strike too, Caleb." My mouth dropped open. How could this be? I hadn't done jack. These idiots had come here to Gramps' and started all the shit. As usual.

Mom rushed forward. "Just you wait a second," her eyes flashed and she raised her finger at Garcia and Gale came forward, circumventing whatever rant Mom had been going to start.

"We are aware of the history here, Mrs. Hart." When Mom opened her mouth again, Gale continued in the pause, "But he already has a strike against him. He is
willing to use
. That means that when an altercation happens... "

"We know what it means, Officer Gale," Dad said, obviously pissed, Mom pressed against his side. "As long as you remember how I responded to last year's gang-beating of Caleb." His eyes met the cops and Garcia flinched a little at the intense eye contact. "These boys have established a trend. They beat this boy," Dad paused and indicated Lewis. "Four boys against one. Not great odds. About the same odds that Caleb endured."

Tiff snapped and crackled a bubble about five hundred times, drilling the still air like a woodpecker. "Don't forget that 'ho, Christi."

Mom slapped her forehead and Gramps got the crooked mouth. I did too. That Tiff.

"Yes, thank you Miss Weller for your information," Garcia said, looking at Christi's pulverized face. He sighed.

Bry crossed his arms and said, "That Diego's gonna be gunning for Tiff."

"Yes, Officer Garcia, what assurance can you offer, Caleb?" John asked and Dad smiled.

Brody snickered and Christi laughed. I guess being smart was a big amusement for the siblings.

Jonesy was on it. "Sibling IQ still in effect, Dumb Ones."

Nice. I gave him a knuckle bump.

Brody's hands clenched into fists. "Shut up, Jones."

Jones folded his arms in front of his chest. "Make me."

"Okay!" Garcia yelled over the guy's posturing. "I am not going to call back up. Because, if I do, everyone is going to spend the night in the cell!"

Helen did a sound in the back of her throat. "I have an infant here, I'm not going anywhere. The police station is full of germs."

"Go mom," Jonesy said, the sarcasm ringing like a dull bell.

Gale smiled. "Listen, I think this whole thing can be toned down a notch if all the uninvited guests leave and the invited participants remain. We have begun the paperwork with the strikes duly noted. You all have been put on notice and know where your standing is with the law. One more strike and it's," she made her finger do a swipe against her throat in the universal slice gesture. "Got it?"

Gramps raised a hand. She called on him like we were in a classroom. Outside in the dark, on Halloween.

Yeah right.

"Yes, Mr. O'Brien?"

Gramps legs were spread and his arms folded over a barrel chest, his gut a thing that'd be on a thirty-eight year old. An in-shape one. "Yeah, when are these jack-wagons going to get their butts off my property?"

"We're going old man," Carson said with a smirk, Gramps glowered not even realizing he'd made a move toward him when my dad said, "Mac," Gramps turned to him, "just let the police escort them out."

Gramps looked at Mom, then me. "Fine, but be quick about it. I'm not known for my patience."

Ya think?

Garcia herded everyone off Gramps' property and we filed back to the fire. With a poke, prod and a few more chunks of wood, it blazed back to life and we sat back down in the loose circle of assorted seats.

There was a long silence in which Gramps broke it with, "I don't abide fools gladly," he said slowly, palming his chin.

Dad and Mom sat perched on a log bench, quiet. Finally Mom, because she couldn't help herself said, "I'm starting to feel like we can't protect Caleb, Pops."

Dad looked a little miffed and she put a finger over his lips. "It's not that you couldn't protect us if you had to. But," she spread her hands away from her body, "you work and I'm at home."