Death Whispers (Death Series, Book 1) (10 page)

His last memory is a metal machine hitting him
and his life ebbing. Then one of the boys is there, calling to him.
He struggles, deciding he wants to play ball again and be a dog for
this boy. He Lives.

I
snap out of the reverie of the dog's emotions, our glances lock, his
eyes imploring, and I know, that somehow I am responsible for this
life, this dog
.
The midnight-black tail wags like a friendly exclamation
mark,
moving the mist slightly. Wait, what was that horrible sound; beep,
beep, beep,
BEEP!

I opened one blurry eye, slamming my palm down on
the alarm. All a dream! I flopped over on my back. Well, that was
freaky. The dog was communicating with me while I slept.

I sighed, sitting up and swinging my feet around
to slap the floor, the warmth of my bed like clinging fingers begging
me to stay.

Ignoring that, I walked over to the window
noticing the field shrouded in mist. Tall, Western Red Cedar and
Douglas fir trees were scattered like soldiers in battle, leading
down to Clark Lake.

I turned away, feeling uneasy from the dream and
went for the bathroom. A shower would chase the lethargy away. I was
definitely going to find clean clothes, thinking of Jade.

But my thoughts strayed back to the dog. He was a
part of my life now, whether I wanted him to be or not.

After showering, great smells made their way
upstairs; fried egg sandwiches. Yup, that was it.

I plopped down in my seat and Dad looked up from
his reading. “How did that reading go last night?”

“Kinda scary.”

Dad raised a brow.

“This
Parker kid,” I hesitated, “was a lot like me.”

Mom's
hand paused, then landed the egg on the buttered toast. She turned
and gave me a look,
go
on
.

Mom placed the glass plate in front of me with a
perfectly centered, two-egg, cheese-laden breakfast. Steam rose from
the eggs, the cheese melting at the edges. Ah... bliss.

I waded in without preamble. “He also 'heard'
things from animals. He was off the charts on his aptitude for the
AFTD.”

Dad said, “We know that.”

He
seemed annoyed. That I didn't need. I just found out I had this
ability and was trying to hide it. Get the dog, get the girl; no
pressure!

Mom shot Dad a look. “What Dad means, is we'd
like to hear anything that you felt could help you with this.” She
gave me an encouraging look. I relaxed.

I used my fork like a knife to shear off a corner
of the egg sandwich and popped a satisfying hunk in my mouth. I
chewed and watched The Parental Unit.

“Looks like he could see ghosts too.” Dad
shrugged his acknowledgment. That was a typical aspect of AFTD.

This is where I landed the bomb. “He could
control them too,”

Dad stilled, his whole body stiff. Mom glanced at
him and they had a look that passed, one of those annoying ones that
said a lot but not to others.

“That's not good,” Dad finally replied.

I knew why I thought it wasn't a potentially good
thing for me to have but I wanted to hear Dad's thoughts.

Mom echoed my feelings with. “What are your
thoughts, Kyle?”

“If
he can control ghosts... hauntings, rather,” looking at us in that
quietly intense way of his, “then that is another useful tool. Dad
continued in the well of silence, “Him being a Cadaver-Manipulator
is certainly rare, but controlling hauntings?” he threw up his
hands to emphasize just how big that “little” skill would be.

“I guess a little terror would go a long way,”
I said.

“Let me get this straight,” Mom queried.
“Caleb is what? A domestic terrorist now?” She looked
incredulously at Dad.

“In a word... yes.”

We were quiet, letting that potential future sink
in. My egg began to cool. Well, nothing was going to get in the way
of my appetite. I shifted my gaze to the clock, ten after eight. I
stuffed down the remains of breakfast.

“Have you seen ghosts, Caleb?” Dad said
breaking the silence.

“Nope.” I said, using the last bit of bread to
wipe up egg yolk.

Mom let out a sigh of relief. “I guess we don't
have to worry about that.”

I hated to burst her bubble but....

“That was the last skill he gained before the
government took him.”

“What year did your reading say that he was
transferred to the 'government school'?” Dad made airquotes.

We weren't dumb enough to think the school was
anything more than a farce so they could exploit kids.

I thought about that. The first year that they
could push through their FDA approval for the drug that made us all
“reach our genetic potential” was 2015, or 2016? Didn't matter,
it was in those years that the first group of teens, nationwide, had
been inoculated for a hell of a lot more than Hepatitis B. It had all
been in those papers. The more I read, the scarier the connections
became. It was starting to stink like conspiracy.

I said, “I think 2016...?”

Dad nodded. “Yes, that rings a bell.”

Mom looked at the clock. “You better skedaddle
there.”

“I have a plan, we'll talk after school,” Dad
said.

I stopped my jog and turned slowly. “You're
gonna be here, Dad?”

“Yes, I'm taking the day off.” Since Dad never
took a weekday off unless it he had the barf-o-ma-tic it must mean
this was top priority.

“We'll experiment with your skills.”

“Don't forget we need to talk about the dog,”
I reminded.

Forget jogging, I shifted right to sprinting until
my lungs burned, singing their resistance. That's all I needed:
possible detention. Carson was a regular feature in detention hall.

I burst through the main entrance, the bell
shrilled behind me as the two-way door swung back and forth on its
hinges, slapping empty air.

CHAPTER 8

I plopped down next to John, Jonesy was across
from me with his head in his palm.

“What's your problem?”

He
was absolutely
never
quiet.

“Can't wait for Sunday, I'm itching for
payback.”

John rolled his eyes.

“What is it today, Wednesday?” I asked.

John nodded.

“Well, get over that. Let's talk while we work
on this.” I looked down, studying my heart-shaped box. Mr.
Morginstern sauntered up, hands thrust into his pockets.

“Good morning gentlemen,” he said in his
I-love-mornings voice.

We all said hi.

Morginstern studied my box and pointed out some
rough spots, emphasizing that if those weren't perfectly smooth,
they'd hang up the lid.

“You see this here.” He pointed to an almost
invisible bump on the interior arc. I squinted and there it was, huh.
I nodded.

“That is the kind of thing that can make a
project frustrating.”

Geez,
really? The whole project had been pretty hard. I wished now that I
had chosen a square, like Jonesy, or a rectangle, like John. Mother's
Day was coming up. Mom always said she didn't care but if I knew
girls and I was getting the hang of that, she would say that but feel
bad if I didn't.

It was a ruthless minefield.

Morginstern
studied Jonesy's box and had a similar lecture for him but pronounced
John's as ready for the lid. Jonesy and I both looked at each other
in perfect understanding, John just got stuff.

Morginstern wandered off to bug the other kids and
we put our heads together like a football huddle.

“I'm in deep crap. I read the Parker kid's stuff
last night.” Nodding in John's direction, “He had some things
that I haven't done yet, but, if I play out like him, I will too.
It's even more important that I not spike their radar on the tests
this Monday.”

“Did your dad get the cerebral inhibitor?”
John asked.

I nodded. “Yeah, he's got it and he took the day
off because he wants to go over The Plan.”

Jonesy stuck out his jaw, leaning back. “What
'Plan'?”

I leaned forward, motioning to get closer.
Jonesy's eyes were so brown the pupils were lost in the darkness,
John tilting his head, worried.

“I don't know. The minute we talk I will pulse
you and let you know.”

“Kyle thought it was okay that we knew?”
Jonesy stuck a thumb in his chest.

I laughed. “Yeah, you were there, there's no
hiding any of it; the black outs, the fugues...”

“The cemetery,” John stated the obvious.

That reminded me. “Have Carson and Brett said
anything?”

We both looked at Jonesy, he talked to everyone.

“Not yet,” rubbing his hands together with
undisguised glee.

As John leaned forward, his frizzy hair covered an
eye. “Don't take this too far. We don't want to hurt them.”

“
Too
much,” I said, winking at Jonesy.

John smacked my shoulder. “Don't give him any
ammunition Caleb!”

Morginstern looked our way. “Get back to work
boys.”

We picked up our sand paper, Jonesy and I hitting
the bumps with the eighty grit we thought we wouldn't have to use
anymore.

John got up with a self-satisfied smile spreading
over his face.

“I
guess I'll go over and use the jig saw for my lid now,” John
smirked.

“Don't be an ass,” Jonesy said.

“Yeah,
what he said,” I echoed.

John walked off, his fro of hair flopping as he
moved between the tables.

CHAPTER 9

It was between bells and I was trying to glimpse
Jade. Crap, I didn't see her by the locker. Bending down, I tore open
the zipper on my backpack without any of my usual finesse and threw
my crap in my locker. I wasn't hauling all that to Math.

I
straightened up and there she was, close enough to touch. I gulped.
She'd come to me.

“Hi,” I croaked out. She flashed me a smile,
the kind that reached her eyes. “Do you want to hang out at lunch?”
my voice steady, yay for me.

She
turned her head to the side and that long curtain of hair swung
forward, hiding her expression. Then she looked back up at me through
the veil of her black eyelashes bordering eyes that shone like
emeralds.

God
she was beautiful.

“I'd like that,” she said. Those gorgeous eyes
studied me. She wasn't a girl to fill silences with a lot of chatter,
another great thing about her. I was making a list.

The other kids would notice us being together.
That's all that kids talked about, how much school sucked and who was
going out with whom. Maybe I could tell her about my problem. The Js
were cool but you don't show your friends your fear. Girls were
better that way.

As we turned away from each other it slid through
my mind that it sucked, only having her in two classes.

Carson and Brett walked by then, wasting a glare
on me. Brett made a pistol hand, taking a “shot” at me as I
walked by. Dick. Carson threw his head back and laughed, delighted by
his friend's cleverness.

Jonesy's hairspray idea was sounding sweeter by
the second.

Math
dragged by, I couldn't wait to see Jade. John saw me look at the
clock and raised an eyebrow.
Later
,
I looked back. He shrugged, his shoulder blades poking out like
weapons and went back to studying, his hair a wall in front of his
eyes. How he read anything was a mystery.

Math over, I raced to my locker to get my
backpack, slapping my beanie on and took out my pulse. Depressing my
thumb on the pad I selected music. Let me see, who to play? I chose
the oldies shuffle: Seether, Hinder and Underwhelmed.

Thinking
into
my touch pad:
volume
15
.
The screen illuminated in phosphorescent green the correct volume and
I
thought:
accurate.

Music filled my ears and I hummed a little,
sliding through the throng, my mind already with Jade. Jonesy slid
beside me, narrowly missing a posse of girls, who giggled as he
walked by. He took the time to salute them with a fingertip, winking,
which caused another rush of laughter.

I
don't know how he did it, but the girls were nuts over Jonesy. He
called it his Undeniable Attraction. Whatever. He was cool, but I
didn't see him as manly
.

John came late from Science not even bothering to
put his backpack away, heading straight for us and falling into step
by me.

I
ran my thumb over the touch pad and
thought:
volume
five...
then:
accurate.

“
Jade
and I are hanging at lunch today guys.”

Jonesy stopped dead in my path and I missed
running into him by a hair's breadth.

“You're kidding. I mean, are you guys, like,
going out?”

John waited.

“
No
,
but I don't want the first time that we can actually talk to be
around you dorks.”

Jonesy
threw up his hands. “I know you're hot for her, but Bros before
'hos man, bros before 'hos.”