The Death Series: A Dark Dystopian Fantasy Box Set: (Books 1-3) (34 page)

BOOK: The Death Series: A Dark Dystopian Fantasy Box Set: (Books 1-3)
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CHAPTER 34

 

I woke up, feeling as if I'd been in our washing machine on spin cycle
for a couple of hours. I squinted at the glowing numbers on my computer monitor.
One o'clock!

Onyx crawled up and gave my face a lick. I absently petted his head. I heard Mom downstairs in the kitchen. Surprisingly, I wasn't that hungry. I powered up my pulse and messages came in:.

 

Jonesy:
Pulse-me, zombie-master.

John Terran:
We need a plan... like yesterday
.

Jade:
I love you too.

 

I tackled the easy messages first.

 

Caleb:
Jonesy, you moron, stop talking about stuff on the pulse!

Jonesy:
Okay, don't get your boxers in a twist!

 

John joined the chat, and we all agreed to meet at the hideaway at three o’clock.

I pulsed Jade next.

 

Caleb:
How's your side?

Jade:
It's okay, sore.

 

My hate for Jade's dad bloomed anew.

 

Caleb:
Is your aunt pissed at me, or can we get together today with the Js?

Jade:
No, it was an act. My dumb dad showed up and started hassling her about where I was
.
I overheard my aunt talking to Garcia on the phone today, Dad’s in jail. He’s in extra trouble for resisting arrest.

 

We talked a little while longer then pulsed off.

I was still trying to play it a little cool with Jade, but it was getting harder by the day. More and more she was the center of my world, I orbited her.

 

***

 

I dismounted as my bike was slowing coming to a jog beside it, the Js already in view by the dump's gate.

“You guys got your bikes too?” I asked.

“Yeah, they were at our houses this morning when we got up,” John said.

“Mine, too. Maybe Wade brought ’em,” I said.

“The other cop?” Jonesy asked.

“Yeah, Gale's partner,” John said.

“He watched our house last night,” I said.

Jonesy whistled. “You must rank pretty high.”

I shook my head. “Nah, you heard Garcia. He wants to bust the Graysheets bad. I think he's just being careful because they've targeted me. But we've got even more problems than government psychos.” I told them what had happened with Jade's dad.

John shook his head. “What a turd.”

“He should be flogged,” Jonesy said.

Jade rode up a few minutes later. After we had the whole got-our-bikes-back conversation again, we hid the bikes and went into the hideout.

“I can't believe your parents let you come,” Jade said. “Aren't they worried?”

“My dad has a plan to relieve some of the pressure and expose them. I shrugged. “Also, I gave up the hideaway.”

Jonesy face-palmed.

John glared at me.

“Look,” I said, “I kinda had to. If it makes ya feel any better, I just said it was somewhere in the dump.”

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

“And Brett and Carson,” Jade added.

“Yeah, what the hell is with Brett?” Jonesy asked. “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. “It would be easier on you guys if I wasn't a part of this.”

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.

“Knock-knock!”

We jumped.

“What the hell?” Jonesy said.

Jade said, “It's Tiff and Sophie. I pulsed them to meet us here.”

Jonesy smiled. “Oh, Soph! Great!” He ducked his head. “I mean... I'm glad they're okay.”

Riiiiggghhht.

Tiff and Sophie came first, with Bry bringing up the rear. His face looked really bad.

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

Tiff's eyes narrowed on Jonesy.

John gave Jonesy a sour look. “What did your parents say?”

Tiff rolled her eyes with a smirk. “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,” I said.

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

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.”

They high-fived their mutual awesomeness.

We finished talking then trooped down the tunnel. I stepped out of the freezer last and closed the door.

When I turned around, Brett and Carson were there.

Bry looked around at our expressions. “What? Did someone die?”

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

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

Brett asked, “Who's he?”

“My brother,” Tiff said.

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 ya homo?” Carson laughed.

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

“That works,” Bry said.

Brett peered at Bry. “What happened to your face?”

“Who cares?” Carson said. He turned to me. “I've decided to call a truce.”

I couldn't have been more shocked if he’d pulled a pink elephant out of his butt. The girls burst out laughing. It sounded
that
ridiculous. Carson glared at us and clenched his fists.

Bry stepped forward.

Carson looked at him and licked his lips nervously.

Coward.

“Don't even think about it.” His battered face somehow made him look more menacing.

Carson stuck out his chin in a show of bravado. I thought like it looked like the sweet spot for a punch. “I was just sayin' that most of us will be at KPH next year, and I thought we could just… avoid each other.”

I thought it over for a moment. I didn’t trust him, but I supposed it was worth a shot. “Okay, I can do that.”

Totally want to anyway.

Everybody else nodded their agreement, but I read doubt in every face.

Brett looked relieved, Carson satisfied.

“See ya,” Carson said, walking off.

Brett cast a glance back at Jade then followed Carson. I didn't like him looking at Jade that way, but it wasn’t the time to make a scene.

Once the pair was out of earshot, Jonesy said, “We need to close that gate from now on. I don't like them skulking around.”

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

“Me too,” Bry said, eyes narrowing on their disappearing figures.

“You don't even know them,” Jade pointed out.

“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? Pyros
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... g
ood thing John’s on our side.”

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

“We'll have to be expecting it then,” I said. I put my arm around Jade.

“Ouch!”

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she said. “It’s just kinda sore.”

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

Jade blushed but lifted up her shirt a little. The injury looked markedly worse. The beginning of the bruise extended even further, a rainbow of various shades.

“Definite flogging,” Jonesy said, his fingertips skating over the wound.

Jade lowered her shirt. “He's in jail still. He can't make bail, and Andrea won't pay, either.”

I thought it was great his butt was in a holding cell.

I told the ones who arrived late that my dad had a plan to take the heat off of me.

Bry nodded. “That's good.”

“He's right, Caleb,” Jade said.

“It's not just me,” I said. “It's any of us, all of us...”

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

Bry said, “Be sure and pulse me and Tiff. I want to know what's happening. And for the record, I don't trust that ferret Carson.”

My lips pulled in a grim line.
Me neither.
“Yeah, I'll let ya know.”

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

Jade shook her head. “Can't. No health insurance.”

I stared at her. “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.

Jonesy said, “It's all right. If it's a busted rib, they can't do jack anyway.”

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

We all got on our bikes. I stayed in place while I waited for Jade to get on hers. She was moving pretty slowly.

John pulled up beside me.

“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 trying to make me feel better about it.

Not working.

“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 of that now, too?” he asked.

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

Jade reached out and put her hand on my arm. “It's okay. Wouldn't something bad have happened by now if they knew?”

My heart felt loaded up in my throat, stalled. I couldn’t even speak.

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

“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.

Whatever happened after I got home, I had them.

CHAPTER 35

 

I dumped my bike on the front lawn and ran for the porch. I rushed through the front door, not bothering to close it.

“What's the problem, Caleb?” Dad asked, rising off the couch. He leaned to the side to look behind me.

Jade and the Js came in. Mom gave me a puzzled look, with more than a dash of anxiety.

I put my index finger to my lips then pointed toward the back deck. My parents nodded.

All of us moved out there.

“What's going on?” Dad asked.

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

“Yes.”

“Well, we talked about everything last night—Garcia, them, all our ideas. Then this morning, I told you where the hideout was.”

Dad looked relieved. “It's okay, Caleb. When I spoke with Garcia last night, he 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. He made sure I didn’t let on about it in the house. It’s all fixed.”

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.”

“Doesn't that flat-line everything in your house? Pulse, lights, everything?” Jade asked.

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

I got it. “Their stuff wasn't included in the start-up because it didn't register.”

Dad nodded.

“Nice,” Jonesy said.

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

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

Here we go.

“I think we should go to that journalist who worked on those articles about Parker—Tim Anderson.”

“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 who is a five-point should not have to live under the threat of loss of liberty. 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… um…”

“Analogy,” John said.

“Humph!” Mom commented.

Dad was making the I'm-not-going-to-smile face that gave his mouth a strange, crooked look. “I've already contacted him, and he’s meeting us at 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.

Mom grinned. “We have some leftover pizza.”

John asked, “Is there enough?”

“Always.”

As we devoured the pizza, we talked about Anderson. We decided that all of us going would give more credit to the story.

“The point is,” Dad said between bites, “the kids' 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 mid-bite.

“Yeah, Caleb,” Jonesy said. “There's a ton of nut jobs out there, waiting to crack.”

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

“Every day, pal.” Jonesy winked.

Jade rolled her eyes, and we all laughed.

 

***

 

The Seattle Post-Intelligencer office was at Kent Station in the valley. Dad easily found a parking spot, completely unheard of in our city of two hundred thousand. We all got out of the car. The Js started to sprint ahead to the door.

“Hang on, kids,” Dad said, without looking up from his pulse.

Mom was still fumbling with her stuff. She tucked her dedicated pulse-reader into her purse.

“Mom, seriously? The DR?”

I guess she'd die without a book to read.

We walked toward the building, which was all height and glass. It looked like a giant sea-green jewel spearing the sky. The huge sign on top read, “Seattle Post-Intelligencer” in electric-blue letters.

Inside, we got 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.

A rotund gal with a perma-bored expression stood at the ready with the Pulse-wand, 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 Jonesy burst out laughing the instant the dour TSA worker said,“Next.”

John doubled over, laughing. His face turned tomato-red.

The TSA gal made it worse by spluttering, “Young man, stand up!”

Jonesy yelled, “Anal probe! Right here!” and pointed over the top of John's back. Which caused John to roar with laughter, falling down hard on his bony ass.

The TSA agent flattened 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.”

The TSA woman looked down at John, who had tears streaming out of his eyes. “Straighten up right now, young man!”

John whooped, trying to make a mad dash that looked like a drunken stagger.

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

John's mouth started to twitch, but he managed to contain it. He was still making the funny mouth, trying not to burst out again, Mom was talking sternly to Jonesy, his back to us.

“I'm really sorry about that. I don't know what my problem was.”

“Arms up,” humorless said. “Turn-around. Next!”

John, suitably chagrined, walked over to Jade and me.

Dad, last through security, motioned for us all to huddle up. “Come close, fellas.” When we all leaned in, Dad looked straight at Jonesy. “I better not have any more of this behavior. Jonesy: control your bullshit.”

Jonesy blanched. I had ever heard Dad swear. A silence fell over our loose circle.

Dad straightened. “Follow me.”

He strode off. Jonesy and John trailed behind with their tails between their legs. I took Jade’s hand, and we walked beside Mom.

 

***

 

Tim Anderson just flat-out didn't believe us.

Dad tried to reason with him, but Anderson interrupted my dad with, “Dazzle me, guys.” He looked at me. “Can something die and you raise it?”

I gaped at him. “What? You mean like right here?”

Anderson shook his head and turned back to my dad. “Listen, Dr. Hart, I know you're the principal scientist with regard to the genome map. Terrific. But do you really expect me to put my—excuse me, ladies—nut-sack on the line for some wild stories about a five-point AFTD running amok with his friends and some shadowy government co-op dispatched to
acquire
him?”

He's starting to piss me off.

Dad began drumming his fingers on Anderson's desk. He looked as angry as I felt.

Mom huffed. “What would we have to possibly gain from making up a story about our own son?”

Anderson shrugged. “Who knows? I get whack-jobs all the time coming in here and spraying their lies all over. I'm not inclined to believe things on hearsay. I'm a journalist, guys.”

Dad slapped his hand on the desk, rattling the glass pen holder. “We are
not
crazy
or
making things up.” He waved at Jade.

Anderson leaned back in his chair, unfazed by Dad's outburst.

“Jade, show Mr. Anderson what's going on.”

Jade stood and walked over to Anderson. A predatory smile I’d never seen before played on her face.

“What are you doing, girlie?” Anderson asked her.

Jade just smiled wider then touched his shoulder. He jumped.

“Seeing,” she answered.

Emotions flew across her face as she read Anderson.

Anderson pushed her hand away. “That's enough of that.”

He looked pretty shaken.

Jade turned to Dad. “He wants an exclusive if he can have proof. Otherwise, it's just a wild goose chase.”

“Are you quoting him?” Mom asked.

“Yes... no. I mean, people think in images, and I saw geese in his head and him chasing them.”

“It's an old expression,” Anderson said quietly.

“He wants to go to the ghost cemetery,” Jade said.

He glared at her.

“Well, you didn't believe us,” I said.

Dad stood. “Let's do it. You see some of the evidence, and then you write something. Seems clear cut.”

“He will,” Jade said.

“Must be a nice skill, girlie,” Anderson said.

I grimaced.

“It's Jade, not 'girlie.’”

 

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