Death Whispers (Death Series, Book 1) (9 page)

Jonesy sighed and went to the Fam-pulse, thumbing
the pad. He sat there silently for a minute, then lifted and read the
screen. He depressed one more time then turned...

“I gotta go, mom's on a rage.”

Mom
frowned. “Maybe knowing where you are is sort of important Jonesy.”
Doing the I'm-going-to-stick-up-for-the-other-parent thing.

“Yeah Ali, I know.” He brightened. “Thanks
for those cookies...” Mom was already getting a little ecobag for
the road, Jonesy grinned. Delayed gratification.

He gave me a finger salute, turning for the door.
“See you dudes tomorrow. Let me know what's going on Caleb.”

John lifted his chin in goodbye, then we heard his
pounding footsteps and the front door slamming.

Dad got back on topic. “Being prepared is the
most important defense.”

“True, as long as we're on the same page with
this cerebral,” Mom searched for the word, “depressant.”

Dad
corrected her, “Inhibitor.”

Dad continued, “Caleb, tell me what happened at
the accident, especially about this mystery dog.”

I started with how we had been walking home like
usual and ended with how I was sure the dog had been alive, at least
a little, because I had felt that “spark.” Dad latched on to the
word.

“Okay, let's go over the cause and effect one
more time, Caleb.”

John and I groaned out loud. I actually
face-palmed.

“Dad...” I started.

“No Caleb, let's look at this with some applied
logic. The dog was hit and flew,” Dad paused, “you said ten or
twelve feet in the air?” I nodded acquiescence. He pressed on, “...
and it lay there for how long?”

John interceded, “We went to the dog right away.
I mean, Caleb went to it and I followed.”

“Yeah.
It was like he was calling back to me, it was faint. I could feel its
will, or whatever. It wanted to be alive, he didn't want to die.”

Dad put his elbow on his knee and cupped his chin.
“It hasn't been mentioned that Parker has this ability. As a point
of fact, I hadn't heard that this was a part of AFTD.”

Mom
asked, “Would Caleb's ability to bring something back from the
brink
of
death still be the same thing, categorized similarly?”

“Perhaps...”
I heard Dad's whiskers as he rubbed his chin. “We'll have to put
some things to the test and see exactly where his abilities reside.”

A
thrill of fear shot through me. I wanted to use the AFTD, it made the
whispering almost disappear. It felt good,
right
.
So far, all
AFTD
got me was two enemies at school and a dog's reclaimed life that
brought me notice from an observant cop.

“What are you thinking, Kyle? That we give him
what, a pre-aptitude test?” Mom asked.

He
nodded. “Exactly. If we can nail down his skill set, know
how
to defend ourselves, defend him, and decide his future.”

“Maybe Caleb doesn't want to be some government
puppet.” John said.

Exactly what I'd been thinking.

“It's a terrifying proposition, the loss of
one's freedom,” Dad said and Mom nodded.

“I think I want the dog,” I said suddenly.

My parents looked at me with identical expressions
of shock.

“Why, Caleb?” Mom asked.

“Because I feel responsible for it now.”

“We
can't just go and take in everything you,” Dad stumbled over this
next turn-o'-phrase, “raise or save son.”

John smirked, this was kinda funny in a perverse
way.

“I know, but when I think about him...”

“It's
a he?” Mom asked.

“Yeah.”

“Well, how do you know?” she asked.

“I
just do mom, it's all part of it.” Unimportant random details!

Dad said, “Go on.”

“Anyway, I can hear him if I listen and he's
lonely for me.”

John
looked at me with a puzzled look,
he
is?

I answered his unspoken question, “Yeah and he
doesn't like wherever he is.”

Dad held up his hand. “Let's just say,
hypothetically, that we were to agree to letting this dog become your
pet. What would that mean for you?” he finished.

Okay, more chores, dogs have to have food and
water, and they gotta make a mess in the yard (and guess who'd clean
that up... oh joy).

Out loud I said, “Responsibility, I guess.”

“And?” his expression unhelpfully neutral.

My mind went blank, I couldn't think of a thing.

“You're
fourteen now Caleb. You have four years left until graduation and
then the dog would have to become our pet.”

“We're not sure we want that, Caleb,” Mom
said.

“Oh.” I hadn't really thought about them. “Can
you think about it at least?”

“I see that you're anxious son, but we can't
make a snap decision.”

“It's important to me, Dad.”

Dad stood up and clapped me on the shoulder,
squeezing it. He nodded once. He understood.

Mom came to stand behind him, her gaze steady on
mine. They'd think about it.

John had to go and told me to read the rest of the
papers.

“Yeah, okay.” I'd been planning to anyway.

Dad
sat down heavily in his usual seat for supper, steepled his hands,
looking at me. I popped a large piece of lasagna into my mouth and
did the tongue dance, realizing too late that it was hot-as-hell.

“I know you've been through a lot today Caleb,”
Dad began.

Ah-duh.

“But, I am fascinated with how this connection
with the dog unfolded.” he waited expectantly.

Mom rescued me. “Why don't you let him finish
eating and we can get the gory details afterward, hmm?”

Mom
knew about The Hunger. In fact, I would use the phrase, I Hunger
.
Which loosely translated meant something like: what is there to eat
in this house in the next five seconds?
My
friends also had The Hunger and we'd fall upon the kitchen table like
locusts and The Hunger would be abated, temporarily.

“So Caleb, what's going on beside dead stuff?”

She turned, carefully setting a glass in front of
Dad, hand on hip. She just missed putting her hand on one of the tiny
bells of her skirt. I was fascinated by my mom's fashion sense. I
don't truly think she had one, but she was a believer.

“
Nothing
much besides Carson and Brett still being jerks
.
”
I hesitated over the next thing; it was hard to keep this kind of
news to yourself.

Mom sat next to me, skirt bells tinkling slightly
as she adjusted her position.

I really had their attention because I wasn't just
blurting stuff out like usual. I wasn't in Jonesy's league, but I
wasn't super-quiet like John.

“I like this girl named Jade, Jade LeClerc.” I
said. Just saying her name made my heart beat faster.

“LeClerc,” Dad tilted his head, thinking. Mom
looked stumped too.

“Ya know, her dad is a mechanic for the car shop
in the valley.”

He
did his best not to scowl when he realized who Jade's dad was.

Mom didn't bother to hide her expression.
“Terrible news, that.”

My body tensed, I wasn't going to let Jade get
lumped in with her crap family.

“Wasn't she...” Mom began.

I finished for her, “... yeah, she was and it's
not her fault.”

“Removed from a domestic situation,” Dad said,
adding, “of course it wasn't.”

A contemplative silence fell on the table.
Sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, dust motes circling
lazily in the air.

“I know the father, and he is not welcome but
Jade is. After all, with a family like that...” Dad trailed off.

Mom finished for him, “... she could use some
positive affirmation.”

“Is she a cute girl?” Mom asked slyly.

I wasn't falling for that! “She's cute to me.”

Mom mock-huffed and crossed her arms, “Caleb
Sebastian Hart!” she said, teasing. I didn't know if talking about
a girl I liked was easier.

Raising
the dead, or girls... let me think.

Dad joined in, “Now we have to know what your
lady-love looks like just in case we pass her on the street and
rudely not give salutations,” he winked.

“Lady-love,
Dad? So retarded!”

“Caleb!” Mom said, mouth unhinged. A theme
today.

“
Sorry,”
I mumbled. But it
was
retarded, who said that? They couldn't help it, being old and all.
Hard to believe that mom was Gramps' daughter.

“You have to be more sensitive with your
language.”

“ 'Lady-love'?” eyebrows raised to my
hairline.

“I guess that was a little out-of-date,” Dad
agreed.

“Ya think?”

“So tell us more about Jade,” Mom said.

“Well,
she is really interesting.”

“That's not what I thought about your mother
when I first saw her,” he said with a smile aimed at mom.

Over
share-much
...
“I
mean, she is different than the other girls. She doesn't do that
stuff girls do that's super-annoying.”

Mom crossed her arms again. Uh-oh, I'd stepped in
it.

“What
do girls do that's so annoying?” she asked in that innocent tone
(translation: I will eviscerate you).

I
looked at Dad for help but he looked back,
clearly,
you couldn't have just said that.

I was on my own.

Girls make us nervous, they act like they like us
then treat us crappy the next day. In a word, confusing.

What
I said was, “She treats me the same all the time, not just when
she's in the mood. She pays attention to what I'm saying, she
actually listens.”

A slow smile spread across dad's face while mom
sat speechless at my words, a rare thing, “She sounds great. I like
a woman that is self-possessed.”

“And she's cute too, right?” Dad winked.

“
Yeah,”
I said. “There is that
,
”
grinning back.

“Oh
you two, annoying guys.” Mom smiled.

Dad said, “Tomorrow we flesh out your
abilities.”

“What are you doing tonight?” Dad asked. Mom
looked up from wiping down the kitchen table.

“Ah... John brought over some papers about the
Parker kid.”

“Don't you have a textbook from school that
addresses these abilities?” He looked a question at Mom.

“Yes, he does. He must. First semester in eighth
grade they're required to have one quarter health and one quarter
paranormal development. They're linked you know,” Mom stated.

Yeah,
they were linked alright. That Health class had been the
dumbest
on the planet. I can never get their lame-ass music out of my head.
It was some stupid thing like, “Body changes, everyone goes
through... body changes.”

No shit, Sherlock.

“Were you listening Caleb?” Mom asked.

I stared blankly at Dad.

“Hey pal, I asked if you still had the textbook
here in the house from last semester?”

I looked at mom. “Try under your bed, that would
be my first guess.”

I turned back to Dad. “I don't know, I'll take a
look.”

“Okay, good. Now that these events are coming to
pass, a refresher would be an excellent pursuit of your time. The
sooner the better,” he said with gravity.

I jogged over to the stairs taking them two at a
time. Tearing open my door, I launched myself on my bed, scooping the
papers up as I fell.

I bent my head over them and began to read.

CHAPTER 7

Chocolate-brown eyes stared through the mist,
luminous, shining. I blinked and they were gone. My eyes flicked down
at my feet that were bare, my boxers my only clothing. I looked at my
surroundings and realized with dawning horror that I was in the
cemetery again.

I glanced to where the eyes had been and the dog
stepped forward, an inky silhouette in the midst of an ethereal fog.
The mist was wet, swirling around my face, drenching my hair like
fingers attached to my skull. With a start I realized that it was The
Dog, from the accident.

He
spoke, whispered, thought:
Rescue
me
.

The eyes bored into mine with an eerie intensity,
that connection I'd felt since the accident still tied.

Images flooded my head from the dog, like a movie
running frame by frame:

A
boy, close to my age, throwing the ball. The Dog's pure joy at the
chase, the return, and the reward of the boy's laughing
acknowledgment of him.

Then, a stranger that coaxes me/us with food
and a terrible trip in a thing of metal that moves. Alarming smells
wafting in through glass that is sometimes a hole, too many to
identify. Terrible loneliness for The Boy.

Suddenly, an opportunity to escape the confines
of the frightening and noisy box that moves. the Dog leaps out of the
hole that is sometimes glass and runs until he finds a road, where he
scents two boys. He knows they are close to his Boy in Life and he
will find his Boy again. He pursues them.