Death Whispers (Death Series, Book 1) (6 page)

I had to warn her about Brett, “Here's the
thing, Brett and Carson have me in their cross hairs and maybe who I
hang out with.”

She gave me a steady look, a puzzled expression
furrowing between her brows.

“
Do
we hang out?” she asked.

Truth now. “I want to.”

I'd
rather die than say how I feel but I needed the guts to own it. I
waited for her response.

“Me too,” she said, looking up from under the
black lace of her eyelashes; wow.

Relief
flowed through me. Even with all the scary shit I was dealing with,
for starters, the whispering of the dead a background symphony, Jade
made me feel invincible. I could do
anything
.

The
bell shrilled...
crap
!
We had like thirty seconds before PE.

Laughing,
we sprinted down the hall, Jade's hair streaming behind her like
black water. We'd just make it through the door. Griswold would make
us pay.

There's
creative discipline for kids that aren't
ready
for PE.

Our bodies slid through the door and I watched the
school clock click to 1:46, shrilling the final bell.

Griswold
raised an eyebrow, “Glad you two could join us. Suit up, you both
have extra calisthenics today, obviously
.
”

Carson and Brett watched this development with
interest. That's swell, just what we needed.

Jonesy
was in line, giving me a look of restrained horror. He was so easy to
read. You decided to make a move on Jade.
..
now?

I
looked back at Jonesy,
so
sue me.

After
PE, I kept my
fragile
connection with Jade, I said I'd see her tomorrow. I had seventh hour
band, we had a fifteen minute break. I whipped out my slim,
credit-card sized pulse cell I'd gotten for my birthday.

Depressing the touch pad with my thumb the screen
came alive:

Activated
and I
thought
,
Jonesy,
then belatedly,
John.

I almost lost my three-way, I was so distracted by
thoughts of Jade. Their response lit up my screen with the familiar
luminescent green characters:

Hey,
What the
profanity-block!
is
with you and Jade being late for PE?
MJ

I
depressed my thumb again,
Chillax...
I finally told her I want to hang out-
CH

What?
You actually
talked
to
Jade? This is the worst time in the world Caleb; and I hear she's a
hater.-
John
Terran
.

Swiping
my thumb,
She
doesn't 'hate', she's just quiet.-
CH

Are
you going to tell her? About...-
John
Terran
.

No
profanity-block!
way Caleb, it's bad enough that Carson and Brett know, we can't have
this Jade-complication!-
MJ
.

I
have a feeling about her. Just trust me and stop being ass-clowns
about it.-
CH

The screen went dark for a moment:

K,
but she needs to see your skills, you feel me? Oh yeah, I almost
forgot, I talked to the
real
ass-clowns, (
must
be Brett and Carson I thought...)
it
is
them,
do you have your thumb on the touch pad Caleb? I'm getting feed
back.-
MJ

I jerked my thumb off. That was stupid, sometimes
I forgot to lift.

Okay,
now I can see just myself, LMAO. They're idiots, I told them they're
too chicken
profanity-block!
to try it. It worked
shrugs.
They'll
meet us at the cemetery, same day and time.-
MJ

You
gonna get the hairspray from your mom?-
CH

Aqua
Net, my man. And yeah, she never uses every squirt. I scoped a can in
the reprocesser, I'll snag it.-
MJ

Isn't
she gonna notice? If she's like my mom, she's a total freak for the
reprocessing credit on the garbage bill.-
CH

Nah,
I'll offer to take the separator out for once and she'll be so happy
I volunteered for a chore she won't care, LOL-
MJ

I
think we're going to be sorry.-
John
Terran

Cork
it pal, don't be a fun-sucker.
-MJ

sighs
,
we gotta get to band. I'll bring your pick, you left it at my house.-
John
Terran.

That was John, all-business and worrying.

Thanks.
K, talk to ya later Jonesy.-
CH

Later.-
John
Terran.

See
ya.
-MJ

I swept my thumb over the touch pad setting my
pulse to hibernate.

****

Band
was a righteous seventh hour class, a subject I actually liked, alien
concept. John's parents believed in music, they were zealots (old
zealots, they were my grandpa's age). John could play everything but
he really jammed at the piano. He could read music and play a piece
he listened to only a few times. I struggled through learning the
notes. Oh well, it was the only time during the school day that I
could drown out the whispering.

John and I jammed together on a new piece Mr.
Pierce had given us. We were working out the kinks, the volume on the
amp turned up three quarters to full volume making my teeth rattle in
my head. John flashed me a grin. He was a pretty serious dude most of
the time. I was lucky to have the Js, which made me think of Carson
and Brett and the cemetery.

John heard me hit a flat in my chord and winced.
My concentration was sucking big time.

We
wrapped up the session, hanging our guitars on the rack with about
fifteen others. I made a basket with my pick in the box marked
Caleb
S. Hart
(swish).

I followed John out of class. Fresh,
late-afternoon spring air hit my lungs and I sucked it up. I could
taste summer on my tongue and that meant Gramp's house at Lake Tapps.
No school and screw off time with the Js.

John and I walked in companionable silence for a
few blocks. “Why start something with Jade, Caleb?”

I took some time to answer John, he was
way-different than Jonesy. He wouldn't press me for an answer.

“
You
don't see that she's special?” I asked with a
duh
in my voice.

“Well,
she's good-looking but complicated. And that we don't need right now.
And you heard about her family, right?” John asked.

I stopped walking and looked at him. “Yeah, I
know her dad's a psycho, so?”

“Hey,
don't get defensive on me. But you do like a project.”

I was back to walking, with a scowl.

“
Jade's
not
a project.”

He sighed. “It's more than that. She lives at
her aunt's and she's not much better than the dad.” John said, as
if by sheer force of logic I could control who I liked. Attraction
doesn't work like that.

“So how's that her fault?” I stopped again on
the side of the road, hands hanging loose at my sides. Cars drove
past, breaking the sweet smell of spring with their passing. I felt
that pressure building in my head. Getting pissed seemed to make it
harder to block out. And the odd road kill hanging around didn't
help, I thought sourly.

John saw my expression. “I shouldn't rant on
Jade. I don't feel great about including her in this mess.”

“Like
I pulsed ya, I trust how I feel about Jade. And besides, you guys are
stressing about my AFTD but have you thought about what you'll
test-out for?”

“I
have thought about it,” John conceded.

“Have you noticed something?”

“No...
there won't be anything for me. I'm already halfway through puberty
and nothing. The tests will confirm that. Not everyone manifests.”

I
looked up at John, way up. He was a pretty tall dude for fourteen.
He'd be fifteen soon, in September. His dad was taller, like
NBA-tall. His hair stood about four inches away from his head like he
had stuck his finger in a pulse socket, a fro-and-go (I smiled
thinking of Jonesy's names). He let it riot, that was John. He was
him all the time, the most real person I knew.

“Hey
dude, you don't want this,” pointing at myself.

He grinned with a wistful expression “No way.
But I'd have something cool like psychokinesis.”

I rolled my eyes... whatever. “John, you know
that's pretty rare.”

“Yeah,
but look at you? AFTD is the rarest.” He looked uncomfortable
because we both knew it wasn't the ability to have. I bet Jeffrey
Parker wished he didn't, all it got him was a one-way ticket as a
government puppet.

“True.” I turned and we walked again toward my
house. More cars rushed past as we walked single file on the
shoulder.

Grinding metal pierced my ears and fingers lassoed
my arm hauling me into the ditch, our butts landing in water which
instantly leeched into our pants.

A car that had been behind us was sliding on the
street, careening sideways where a lone, black dog was standing in
its path. It was obvious the driver had swerved to avoid the dog and
almost clipped us on the side of the road.

A
surreal moment ensued, the car ramming into the dog and it sailing at
least ten feet to land about two car lengths from where John and I
sat in the ditch. We looked at the crumpled heap of the dog on the
ground and in that moment time seemed to pause
.

The driver, an older balding guy, got out of his
car, kinda dazed looking, and approached the dog. But not before he
gave a nervous glance our way.

“You kids okay?” Baldy asked, moving on before
we could answer.

Oh he gave a shit, right.

“Yeah.” John mumbled anyway.

I
looked away, not saying anything because... because, the dog was
sending things to me, images. It knew it was dying and was sending
out some kind of distress signal, that only I heard
,
my
body humming in response.

I got to my feet without ever noticing I stood, as
one compelled.

John startled, then followed me. He wasn't one to
ask stupid questions. We walked across the pebbled pavement, oily
from last night's rain. As I drew closer, that unique pressure built
in my head, straining for release.

The
dog lay before us, just a mutt. There was not a breath of life.
Wait...
yes
there was.

I knelt down and reached my hand out, John at my
back, when Baldy said, “Don't touch it!”

Without
hesitation, I placed a gentle hand on its fur, and felt that small
spark of life ignite. Unbidden, that part of me that heard the dead
released and poured, no fell over the dog.

I
grasped that spark and thought...
live
.
Warmth welled up under my hand like liquid heat and I watched the
dog's ribs expand for a shaky inhale. Its eyes opened and it looked
at me. In that moment I knew he was mine
.