Death Whispers (Death Series, Book 1) (20 page)

“Caleb,” she croaked.

Her voice sounded full of mush.

I took a deep breath. “Hi Gran.”

“Am I free of this?” she turned to gesture at
the grave. Her skeletal fingers caressing the air.

“Right now you are.”

She frowned. I could tell that she wasn't clear on
where she was at exactly.

Comprehension slowly dawned on her face.

“I am dead. Really and truly dead.”

This was the hard part. “Yes.”

“And you are a,” she struggled to think, being
dead fifteen years would put a crimp on that, “necromancer?”

I
had actually looked up that word after the first corpse called me
that. I guess they knew what I was... somehow.

I would keep it simple. I was certainly more (and
different) than that. “Yes, Gran.”

“You have questions of me. I hear them.”

That was new. I guess the communication was a
two-way street.

She
stepped toward me and I fought the urge to step back. That was all in
my head. This new thing I could do, this ability, did not feel
sickened or grossed out with Gran. Actually, I felt a sense of
ownership over the dead,
mine
,
it intoned,
mine
.

Standing my ground until she was about eighteen
inches away, in my peripheral vision I could see my mom step away
from my dad. He pulled her in against him, watching me, all the while
murmuring something in her ear. He looked at me, giving me the barest
of nods. I refocused on Gran.

“I want to know what this is.”

She tilted her head to the side, like I had asked
an important question that eluded her grasp.

“
Why...
this is you, Caleb.
You
have caused this.”

Her arms, with the sleeves in ribbons loosely
swaying in the slight breeze, clung and whipped around her like a
cape.

“I mean,” I was frustrated here, dad was
taking stills in the background and it was distracting. I gave him a
look, he stopped.

“What did you hear?” I asked her.

“Your summons, dear boy, your summons.”

Oh. “You heard me calling you?”

“
Yes,
your voice telling me to come to you. You
did
call me to you. For your bidding.”

Wow, this was definitely
big-time-in-my-pants-creeper status, she looked at me raptly, waiting
for some command. No wonder Parker was in trouble. If he had anything
close to this, he would be like a king amongst robots. Not a cool
thought. I was starting to understand why Dad had been so fast to get
me hooked up with the happy med. The,
we're-gonna-hide-what-you-can-do pill.

“Ah, no. I don't have a job. I just have some
questions. Actually, I'm worried I can't control this so my dad
thought it would be good if we came here and practiced.”

Saying it out loud made it sound super dumb. Don't
worry Gran, just a little corpse-raising and then we'll tuck ya back
in your grave-bed and be on our way. Geez. Practice makes perfect.

She looked puzzled. “You're just practicing this
gift? With me?”

I gulped and I heard a dull click, my throat dry
as a desert. “Yeah, that's about it.” I would have killed puppies
for a glass of water about now.

She finally took the time to turn around and look
at my parents. She stood there, with her hips facing me and her torso
almost fully turned to them, reluctant to turn away from me and fully
face them. I heard disgusting sounds when she turned and realized it
was her spine, wetly cracking.

Mom's
face was flaming when Gran looked at her. But my dad just stared
back. Whatever he was thinking, he wasn't swayed by emotion. As he
would say, the nuts and bolts of preparing me was the critical thing.
He knew what Gran was, Mom didn't. That was the
difference.
Mom still thought of Gran as
Gran.
But
she wasn't anymore, she was Gran but she was
other
too.

“Gran.”

She turned from my parents without a backwards
glance or a word. Mom looked at Dad and he shrugged.

Gran looked at me, waiting.

“Who are those people behind you?”

“
My
granddaughter and her husband,” she said,
just
restating the facts
.
Pretty clinical for a corpse.

“Do you want to talk to them?” I asked.

“Do you wish for me to?” she asked, her
eyeballs, which had not filled in all the way, (better not to think
on that too long), rolled around in the eye sockets with a little too
much room.

“No. I wish for us to discuss things.” Copying
her words.

She relaxed. As if a corpse could relax.

“I am here to serve you.”

I gave Dad a panicked look.

Okay. I needed to get a grip, figure out some
stuff and put great-grandma back in the ground.

“Is there anything you need?” I asked.

“Yes, it would give me great peace if you would
tell my son, if he lives, that I am sorry.”

“For what?”

“He will know. Will you?”

Mom nodded her head. “Yes, I will.”

She turned, inclining her head. ”Thank you.”

“What am I here to do? I mean, what good can I
do? How can I help people?”

“Only you know those answers, Caleb. Doing that
one errand of mercy for me will be something of worth, to be sure.”

She talked funny!

“Some of us can tell you a portent of your
future.”

That was news. I heard mom gasp her surprise in
the background but Gran remained focused. My eyes met dad's and he
just nodded again.

I was thinking fast. Portent... a forewarning.

“Do you wish to know what role you have in this
life?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes rolled up in her head, her hands lifted
above it, reaching for the sky. Thunder clapped and I jumped. Fat
drops of rain splattered on our skin while Gran, her gray skin
looking like paper stretched tight like a drum over bones, swayed in
place, hearing a rhythm that only she could.

The rain was getting its teeth in it, starting to
come down in earnest. Gran's head snapped down and she stared into my
eyes, a strange light illuminating hers. All movement stopped and she
pointed a finger at me.

“You
will need protection. Surround yourself with your own kind and others
who have skills that are unusual but more common now. Do not be
deceived by people that would use you for evil. There is a young
girl, with a name of stone, who will be your greatest ally. You must
protect her, she will be your salvation.”

With that, Gran sank down to her knees and looked
up at me. A great toll had been taken for this fortune telling thing.
Great hollows had begun to cave in her face. I realized that all this
being alive again took energy. I could feel that power in me right
now, very low, like a spent tank of gas. Did I have enough to put her
back? My energy faltered.

She gave me a small smile. Kinda wish she hadn't
done that, there were about three teeth in a mouth that was black
with decay and a bit of tongue.

I smiled back anyway, brave-much.

“You can put me away, I need to rest now.” She
spared a glance for my parents, her eyes resting briefly on my mom.

She looked at me. “Tell Alicia what is
different. Only you matter in this time, this world.”

“I understand.” And I did. I wasn't
comfortable with it, but it didn't matter. It was what it was.

My parents came over and stood on either side of
me.

I didn't look at them. But said, mainly to Dad,
“I'm really tired.”

“What can I do, Caleb?”

“I gotta put her back.” Gran stared up at me,
her gaze unwavering. No pressure... damn. Out of nowhere, I heard
voices behind us. What in the Sam Hill?

Witnesses.

Dad turned and put his body directly in front of
Gran, who being on the ground, prone, could still be seen. Mom
flanked Dad and I was in the middle, behind them.

I
turned around and gave Gran the index finger over my lips, the
universal sign for
quiet
.
This couldn't get any weirder.

She
understood, I could
hear
it
.

There
were three kids from school. The middle girl I knew, there was
something about her. My power flared, recognizing hers.

She
was like me.

Her eyes widened and she said to her friends,
“Let's get out of here.”

My parents relaxed.

I came around Mom's side and said, “No!”

What
was her stupid name? We had just been talking about other kids that
had AFTD. Let me think...
Tiffany-something!

“
Tiffany,
no... stop. Help me do this,” I said.

She
stiffened, slowly turning. My first thought was, wow, she could be
pretty. She stood there with a purple hoodie, brown hair peeking out
from the hood, which half covered her face, just a sliver showing.
She had dark eyes, color unknown. I spared the briefest of glances at
the other kids, dismissing them, their faces familiar. But right now,
blowing any cover in the whole world, I was going to ask for help. I
knew I didn't have the energy to put Gran back, not for certain. I
was pretty sure I didn't need blood, or something catastrophic to
make it work. I needed energy, death-energy
.

“What?” kinda pissed.

“I have AFTD, like you.”

“Ya think?” sullen.

So
she loved it as much as me, fine. Like we had a choice? Not for the
first time I wondered if the adults that made the drugs, unlocking
our paranormal potentials were really that smart.

She glanced at her friends, a guy and girl. They
were taking turns looking nervously between my parents and me.

The boy looked at Tiffany. “I thought you said
there wouldn't be any other people?”

She
gave him, what I considered to be, one of the best girl eye-rolls
ever. He pursed his lips and crossed his arms across a barrel chest.

She jerked her head to the left and said, “This
is my brother, Bry.” Oh, that explains the dynamic between those
two.

Back to the mess.

“Listen, I kinda raised my great-Gran,” I
began.

“What-the-hell?” she all but screamed.

Mom humphed in the background, unappreciative of
the colorful wording.

We ignored that.

“
No...
no
,
I can't help with anything that big,” she said.

A voice that sounded like gravel crunching under
tires said, “Yes, you can, seer.”

The
corpse speaks
.
Brother.

“What is that?” Tiffany asked.

“That's Gran.”

Mom and Dad had moved away from me, revealing
Gran. She looked worse for wear but not bad for a corpse who had
accomplished a bit of precognitive forecasting.

“
That,”
she pointed without an ounce of reverence, “is not your
great-Grandma, “it's an
it
.”

I casually turned around to see Gran. Yeah, I
guess she wasn't really Gran anymore.

Gran stared back at Tiffany.

“
Hey,”
Mom piped in without a hesitation, “that's
my
Gran you're dismissing you brat.” Nice. Mom had regressed to name
calling, a first.

“Mom, I got this.”

Dad
gave Mom a look,
let
him handle this.

She huffed her displeasure, crossing her arms,
silently stewing.

“
Yeah,
she's not really Gran anymore, but she
still
has to go back.”

“
You're
the smart one that raised her.
You
put her back.” Tiffany crossed her arms, so unhelpful.

The sun broke through the clouds, a light drizzle
continued to fall making the whole scene glow with an eerie
luminescence. Gran came forward in an awkward shuffle.

“You will do as this one says. He is a ruler
amongst your kind.”

That partial tongue does odd crap to speech.

Tiffany
was staring at Gran in the strangest way. I didn't have enough juice
to force her help. In fact, I didn't think I could make her do
anything, not with that humongous brother standing there and a girl
(another body with a pulse to deal with), helping in the fracas if
things got ugly. I didn't want to fight her but things were gonna go
bad if I didn't get Gran back.

I could feel it.

“Make
me. I'm not gonna help out. I wanna get out of here. Period. End of
discussion.”