Dead Man Living

A Total-E-Bound Publication

www.total-e-bound.com

Dead Man Living

ISBN #
978-1-78184-233-1

©Copyright Carol Lynne 2013

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright February 2013

Edited by Claire Siemaszkiewicz

Total-E-Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2013 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

Warning:

This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a
heat rating
of
Total-e-burning
and a
sexometer
of
2.

This story contains 64 pages, additionally there is also a
free excerpt
at the end of the book containing 6 pages.

DEAD MAN LIVING

Carol Lynne

The day Joe Baker died was the first day of his new life.

Shot while trying to rescue a victim of domestic violence, SWAT team leader, Joe Baker was pronounced dead shortly after arriving at the hospital. Eight minutes later, he opened his eyes a changed man. With his newfound ability to see auras and graphic glimpses of impending murders, Joe retreats to a life of solitude, going as far as losing the only person he’s ever loved, his best friend and former partner on the force, Brian.

When a vision puts him in contact with Beth Adams, director of a battered women’s shelter, Joe is drawn to her pale aura. Curious, he accepts a lunch meeting with Beth only to have another vision strike him. With Beth as the newest victim , Joe calls upon Brian to help protect her.

Joe didn’t expect to fall in love with Beth, nor was he prepared for Brian’s confession of love after so many years of wanting nothing else. Faced with a decision, Joe prays his greed won’t drive away the two most important people in his life
.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Boy Scout: Boy Scouts of America

Hy-Vee: Hy-Vee, Inc.

Chapter One

Trying to get to the crying woman, SWAT team leader Joe Baker took a chance. He knew the victim’s husband had a gun pointed at her. From what Joe could see, the man had already shot her at least once. Blood pooled on the cheap, faded green carpet under her as she begged him to let her go.

Using hand signals, Joe instructed his team to create a diversion, before he slipped in through the back door of the run-down duplex. The voice of his best friend, Brian, sounded over the bullhorn as Joe made his way inside.

His gun at the ready, Joe tried to assess the situation as he listened to the man yell at his wife. An adjustment to his position gave him a view of the man’s reflection in the adjacent window.

When the gunman turned his back on Joe, he knew it was now or never. As he swung around the corner, gun raised, the man’s wife called out a warning.

“Frank, watch out!”

Joe managed to get a shot off as he was knocked to the ground by the force of a bullet aimed his way.

* * * *

Gasping for breath, Joe sat up. The wet sheets that surrounded him testified to yet another nightmare. He reached up and rubbed the scar on his temple.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stumbled to the bathroom. The dream seemed to be his constant companion since the shooting a year and a half ago.

He’d been dead within minutes of the fatal blast to his head. The paramedics had done everything they could but hadn’t been able to save him. He had been pronounced dead at three twenty-four by the emergency room physician.

Little did they know.

It still didn’t make sense to the medical community and since then, Joe had become somewhat of a celebrity in Kansas City. ‘The cop who rose from the dead’, at least that’s what the local papers had splashed across their pages.

All he remembered was being enveloped in a soothing white light. He had seen his friend Brian standing nearby as the doctor and nurses in the emergency room had hovered over his body. Brian had obviously been arguing with the doctor about something as the physician had turned and shook his head.

Joe hadn’t heard their words, but he’d known he was dead. He’d wished he could tell Brian it was okay. He’d felt safe and welcomed in this new place, until the light had begun to recede and he was thrust back into his body.

When he had opened his eyes, he’d thought he’d gone blind until he’d realised there was something covering his face. A shout of fear had escaped him, something that had never happened to him before. He’d always been known as the toughest cop on the force.

With his body strapped down, not only had he not been able to see, but he hadn’t been able to release the dark prison from his face. He’d yelled for help until someone had walked into the room and flipped on a light.

* * * *

Joe turned on the shower and tried to shake off the memories. Those first few months had been the hardest of his life. He’d gone through round after round of testing, both physical and psychological all to no end. The doctors still had no answers for him, and no one could explain the changes he’d incurred.

The hot spray embraced him as he stepped into the shower. Why hadn’t he just stayed dead? He’d become almost a recluse since being released from the hospital, because every time he ventured out of the house, he was bombarded with ‘the walking dead’, as he called them.

Men and women whose souls were as dark as night. Almost everyone he came into contact with had tainted souls of varying degrees. Joe saw them in a broad spectrum of off-white to grey to black. The neighbours he’d always chatted with over the fence, the grandmotherly woman at the post office. It seemed the old adage was true, you couldn’t tell a book by its cover.

The most frightening aspect of his newfound abilities was the foretelling of future events when he came into contact with people. At first, the doctors hadn’t believed him, thinking the gunshot had scrambled more of his brain than they had first feared.

It wasn’t until he’d told one of them that he knew they were cheating on their wife with a woman in radiology that someone had believed him.

Although the doctor was extremely embarrassed by his admission of guilt, he’d brought in a psychologist to work with Joe. What he hadn’t told the doctor was the affair would end in the physician’s own death at the hands of a jealous husband. Three weeks later, the doctor had been gunned down in the parking garage attached to the hospital. The death still weighed heavily on Joe’s heart.

The ability to see tragic events was what Joe hated most about his ability. He no longer saw the good in people, only the bad. Even though he knew it was irrational, Joe had lost faith in the human race. Why couldn’t he see happy events in the future, why only death?

Shaking it off, Joe poured a good amount of shampoo into his hand. Lathering his hair reminded him he really should get a cut. For the fourteen years he’d been on the police force, he had always kept his thick black hair well-trimmed. Now that he was on permanent disability, it didn’t seem to matter. His hair was already down to his shoulder blades and growing longer by the day. He just couldn’t bring himself to walk into a salon, when it took all his strength to simply go to the grocery store every two weeks.

He turned off the water and grabbed a towel. If he didn’t hurry, the all-night grocers would be crowded with busy housewives doing their weekly shopping.

It hadn’t taken long to figure out a schedule to fit his curse. If he arrived at the store before four a.m. he was virtually guaranteed to be alone in the aisles. Well, except for the stockmen and cashier. He had grown somewhat used to them, though, and could block them out.

Not bothering to dry his hair, Joe put it back into a loose ponytail and dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt. Grabbing his keys from the coffee table, he took a deep breath before opening the door. The anxiety was always the worst part of his bi-weekly outing.

* * * *

There were only a few customers in the store, and Joe did his best to avoid them. He pulled his baseball hat lower on his forehead and concentrated on the floor directly in front of his shopping cart. He hated his life more and more all the time.

Although he’d never been a social butterfly, he had at least been friendly to people.
Fuck.
Now he couldn’t even bring himself to look people in the eyes. He finished his shopping and rolled the cart to the check-out stand.

Joe gave the cashier a nod and unloaded his groceries onto the conveyor belt. The same woman had checked him out for almost six months. He wasn’t sure if she worked all the time or if the two of them were just on the same schedules. “Morning, Jessica.”

“Morning,” she greeted as she began to scan his items.

He noticed the small school picture taped to the side of the cash register. “Cute kid.”

“Thanks, he’s my pride and joy.”

He’d mentally calculated the total and knew he was close. It was one of the ways he tried to keep his mind sharp. He usually guessed within a couple of pennies.

Jessica gave him the total and Joe grinned as he pulled out his wallet. The picture that held a prominent place as he opened the cracked and misshapen leather, was of him and his ex-buddy Brian. He mourned his relationship with Brian more than anything, but his best friend refused to come around since he’d been released from the hospital. Joe had managed to hide his sexual attraction to Brian for years, so he didn’t believe that was the reason, unless he’d said something that had clued Brian in.
Shit.
No sense mourning what could’ve been if only he’d had the balls to talk to Brian about his feelings.

He withdrew the needed bills and set them on the belt, shutting the wallet quickly. At least his mind was still sharp. This time, he’d been only six cents off.

Jessica was used to Joe and placed his change in front of him. By the time he’d reached his car and loaded the groceries, the morning was still dark.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, but before he knew it, the sun was peaking over the horizon. A blaze of orange and red signalled another day. Joe hated it when he got into this mood. Depression sucked, but when you had absolutely no one to talk to, it was even worse.