Death Whispers (Death Series, Book 1) (39 page)

Jonesy did a super graceful dance kick where he
sorta hops, then jumps, bending his knee and swinging it out at the
same time. A ripple appeared where his foot had struck, the back
buckling.

Jonesy did another strike and the buckle widened
from top to bottom.

“Come on Jonesy, I thought you were
all-that-is-boy,” John antagonized.

“I,”
kick, thunk, whack, “am!” The whole back gave, splitting open
into the dark.

John, of the ever-prepared, whipped out his LED
light, where a dim spiral wove a murky path through the gloom.

“Come on, let's go.”

And in we went.

There was only enough room to crawl, it was dusty
and we were a sneezing, wheezing mess. I crawled about another eight
feet, turning my head. “This isn't going to work.”

John lit a match. “If there isn't enough oxygen,
this match won't stay lit.”

We all stared at the light of the match, wavering
and uncertain, but burning bright, like a beacon.

“Okay so what now?” Jonesy asked.

“There's enough oxygen this far back that I
think this tunnel here might open up into a bigger space. Keep
moving.”

Jonesy and I crawled forward on our hands and
knees, for about three more minutes. I was losing track of how long
it had been when it narrowed. I belly crawled and twisted through the
last bit and...it opened up enough for me to stand up, the LED light
gripped firmly between my teeth. Slowly, I took it out and looked
around. It was big... real big.

John said, “Wow.”

That about covered it. Everywhere around us were
cars that were compacted in huge stacks. Several were precariously
perched above our heads, acting like a ceiling. I wasn't worried, I
figured they'd been like that for a decade and they weren't ever
gonna come down.

“Come on morons, stop gawking and haul me out of
here!”

John and I turned around, and sure enough, Jonesy
was wedged in the part of the “tunnel” that had been a real
twister to get out of. John barked out a laugh that made Jonesy do a
death glare.

“I like it,” John said.

“We can't get out if he's in the way, smart
one,” I said.

John sighed. “You're right, but it was fun while
it lasted.”

We each pulled one arm, counted to three and
jerked him out like an eel out of an oil can.

Jonesy grabbed his knees and stood up, brushing
the dirt off his jeans.

“Thanks for the help, guys,” Jonesy delivered
sarcastically.

He looked around appreciatively. “This is just
the guy-cave we had in mind.”

John took out another LED light and turned it on
to join mine.

“Where are you getting all the lights,” Jonesy
asked. “And how did you know the combo for the lock?”

“Yeah, what he said.”

“I read some documentary about pre-pulse
security. They said sometimes at commercial sites the numbered
addresses were used backwards, or the last for digits of the phone
number.”

“You mean, ding-a-ling?”

“Yeah, Jonesy, actual non-pulse phones,” John
said.

“Why is this here?” I asked, indicating the
big bubble room of forgotten cars.

“It's like I was hoping. There would be a pocket
of space that was trapped, something they missed,” John said.

“The workers missed?” Jonesy asked.

“Yeah. Just think of that job; all day long
smashing cars, trying to remember where you did it last. It'd be a
bitch to keep track of, thinking you're at the bottom. When, really,
you missed a spot.”

“How would you know?” Jonesy asked.

“I
didn't, I guessed. When Caleb wanted to do the hideout here I thought
it might be a possibility.”

“How do the girls get back here?” I asked.

“Girls!”

“Come off it Jonesy, Jade, Sophie and Tiff are
included.”

“There's Bry and maybe Alex too.”

Huh,
we were getting a
group
I told them.

“We can do it,” John said.

“Does your mom still have that camping gear?”
John asked Jonesy.

“Yeah, we haven't camped much, why?”

“Light?” I said, guessing.

“Yeah. I don't think we need heat, but if we can
get a lantern and propane bottle we could have a halfway decent
place.” John fingered his chin thoughtfully.

He looked at me.

“What now?”

Jonesy grinned. “I think John is thinking we
need some zombie action.”

Geez.

“What do we have to do?”

“We need to widen this some. No big deal,”
Jonesy said easily.

Jonesy's ideas were always a big deal.

“I agree with Jonesy, we just widen this tight
spot,” John pointed to the squeeze that had stymied Jonesy's
progress, “and we put them back.”

I put them back.

He twisted his upper body, turning toward Jonesy.
“What do you think, it's a one or two zombie job?”

“Hey!
Don't ask him, they're my zombies,” I said.

John turned away, smiling. He got down in the
mouth of the entrance to the tunnel, turning the LED light on,
checking it out. Then he turned it off, standing, “We leave LEDs
here so as soon as we return we can set up our stuff.”

John told us we'd need a lantern, propane, a
couple of blankets and some milk crates.

“Where are we gonna get those?” Jonesy asked.

I didn't have a clear picture of what a milk crate
was.

“Here. It's a dump, after all.”

“What are those gonna be for?” Jonesy asked.

“Tables, chairs, storage, whatever,” John
said.

“Okay, let's get out of here before it gets too
late,” I said.

We crawled out of the tight tunnel the way we came
in: slowly.

Jonesy had the most trouble.

He finally climbed out, arching his back.

“We gotta remember that these old freezers are
not safe, they self-lock.”

“What do ya mean?” Jonesy asked.

“We close the door from the inside and we're
screwed.”

We looked at him.

“Back in the day, kids would play hide-and-seek,
hide inside, accidentally close the door... and...”

“I never heard of that,” I said.

“Yeah, you wouldn't. We don't have bogus stuff
like that now. Hell, they make up committees of people just to think
up safety features,” John said. “Anyway, we gotta put a door stop
in there so we don't lock ourselves in and get busy dying.”

Nice, John. Don't say that in front of the girls.

“Okay, whatever but,” and Jonesy laid his
finger up, almost in John's face, “we need to keep it open in a way
people don't notice.”

“Right,” John conceded.

We stood there quietly.

“Let's just use a piece of cardboard, slam it
into the door and the...” I waved my hand around, “jamb-thing
won't self-lock.”

John nodded. “It's not complicated. We make an
escape hatch that doesn't make our hideaway a big coffin.”

We agreed.

“I gotta get home and take care of Onyx.”

“Yeah, let's not get the parents all interested
in what we're doing,” Jonesy said.

“My parent's don't give a crap as long as that
4.0 GPA is still there,” John said.

I guess I was lucky that Dad wasn't bringing the
hammer down on me since I barely got “C's.”

We
walked out of the dump and through the gate
.

Jonesy stopped outside of the gate and looked at
John. “You're kinda a putz not to let us know about the lock
thing.”

John grinned. “Yeah, but I wanted to see if
you'd climb it. Even Caleb did.”

It wasn't easy.

Jonesy said, “Remember: A) we have a hideaway
now, B) we have a plan for next Friday, D) we have girls to protect
from...”

“That would be C, Jonesy,” John interjected.

“
Whatever.
And
C
,”
he nodded to John, “we have Girls to Protect.”

“Protect from what?” I asked.

“I don't know... whatever.”

“You get kinda squirrely when we get in tight
spots,” I reminded.

“
Right,
but you have to remember that I'll protect the chicks.
You
...
you're on your own.”

“Gee... thanks,” John said, without surprise.

We separated, biking to our respective houses.

Onyx knew I was coming and met me at the door.

His tail wagged like an ink spot in the middle of
the doorway, eyes softly glowing in the twilight. He trotted to me as
I came forward. I rubbed the bridge of his nose.

The Boy has returned and is pleased because he
is a Good Dog. I will lick the Boy's hand.

Onyx gave a lick that was wet and slimy, he looked
so happy I didn't have the heart to wipe the nasty dog goo off.

The Dog pressed his nose to the Boy's body and
smelled very interesting smells; smells of real trash (tantalizing)
and foul-smelling things that are on the metal boxes, earth and
something old. Such good smells. He also smelled the other Boys. What
had the Boy done?

“Good dog. Gooooood dog,” I said, scratching
the sweet spot.

Wag, thunk, wag.

I walked in through the door, greeting The
Parents. Mom had her nose buried in her dedicated reader and Dad was
taking notes (with a pen!) from his pulse-top.

They looked up while Onyx trotted past, taking an
experimental whiff of his food bowl, he didn't look sure.

Where is the person-who-feeds him, the Dog
wondered? The food is here all the time. The Dog paused... was this a
New Thing? He surveyed the pack. They did not seem to be interested
in the food. This new thing was confusing. He would wait and see what
the pack did.

I noticed that Onyx went and laid down on one of
Gran's blankets. Mom had an endless supply of those.

“What were you up to all this time, pal?”

Going to the dump, exploring it illegally, finding
a dangerous boy-cave so we could hide from the authorities.

Out loud I said, “Just screwing around,
exploring.”

“That sounds about right,” Mom said, smiling.

“Sounds like the heat may be abating for the
interim, Caleb.”

Mom looked on with interest but I wondered what
Dad meant. Their expressions sometimes stumped me.

“I think, what Dad's saying is the government
may no longer be interested in you.”

“
That's
not what interim means,” I said, guessing temporary
.

“
You're
right, Caleb, I don't have a crystal ball. I don't know that they'll
always
not
be interested. For now, we have a reprieve. But, if they find out
you're not a two-point we're back to square one.”

“We agreed to take one day at a time, Kyle.”

“I agree, Hun, but let's be prepared for the
inevitable.”

“They'll eventually find out,” I said.

Mom nodded, Dad said simply, “Yes.”

Oh well. “What's for dessert?”

Mom laughed. “Nothing stops the unmovable
object.”

“What...?”

“
Your
appetite.” Dad laughed,
obviously.

I didn't understand what was funny. I had to eat
all the time, it's just the way it was.

“So... what's your plan for the weekend?” Mom
asked.

I swallowed a huge mouthful of chocolate pudding.
“I'm going to hang with Jade tomorrow night.” I looked up,
thinking. “I guess not much Sunday. Oh! The Js and I are gonna
explore...”

“...going to...” Mom corrected.

“
...
going
to.” Brother, anyway,“Check out this cool, haunted house.”

That
got Dad's full attention, the haunted word.

Dad stared at me for a second. Mom was doing the
fish thing, her mouth opening and closing, gasping for air. I had
that effect on my parents sometimes.

“This is not keeping a low profile, Caleb.”

“It was Jonesy's idea.” To cover for my
friends I added, “but it doesn't mean cemeteries.”

Not really.

“Well, that may be; you're aware you can control
ghosts. Haunting is another issue to contend with.”

I wasn't sure what the problem was, but I wasn't
going to raise zombies so I figured it would be okay.

“Jonesy has some... interesting ideas,” Mom
said.

She didn't know
the half of it.

“But, he doesn't seem to think things through.”

Really?

“Just be careful, Caleb. We trust you. Keep in
mind how wrong things went at Scenic with Gran,” Dad said.

I wouldn't forget that. Licking the spoon clean as
I walked the dish over to the sink, I filled it with gray water to
let it soak until Mom did dishes.

Onyx
stood, shadowing me as I went to my bedroom. I flopped up on my bed,
grabbing one of Mom's old books. It laid on my chest, unopened. Ideas
whirled through my head. I needed to think of something for Jade and
I to do tomorrow. This girlfriend thing was complicated and school
was ending. We were gonna find out where
we'd
be next year this Monday. I knew we'd be going to KPH, but
what
about Jonesy? And Brett? I guess Kent Lake. But...
what
was Alex? After Carson's pyro show, I didn't want any more surprises.

I cracked open the book, feeling its hefty weight
in my hands like a promise spoken, kept and realized.