Death Whispers (Death Series, Book 1) (54 page)

Brett asked, “Who's he?”

“My brother,” Tiff said neutrally.

Carson and Brett gave Bry a good look, taking in
his height and bulk.

“John?” I asked.

“I know,” John responded.

“He your 'pet Null' now, Hart?” Carson laughed
keeping an eye on Bry.

“We can exchange insults, Carson,” John said.
“But we're kinda busy so why don't you piss off instead?”

“That works,” Bry said.

“I like it,” Jonesy said.

Brett asked, “What happened to your face?”

“Who cares,” Carson said, giving Brett a look.

I was tired of these two. “What do you want?”

“I've decided to call a truce,” Carson said.

I couldn't have been more shocked if he pulled a
pink elephant out of his ass. Who was he kidding?

The
girls burst out laughing. It was
that
ridiculous sounding.

Carson glared at them and clenched his fists, Bry
stepping forward.

Carson looked at him and licked his lips
nervously.

Coward.

“Don't even think about it,” Bry said, the
battering of his face making him look more threatening, not less.

Brett elbowed Carson, who glared back. “I was
just sayin'...that most of us will be at KPH next year...”

I shrugged.

“... and, I thought... we could just, avoid each
other.”

We were all silent at that. I couldn't believe
that Carson would A) offer a solution, B) really not start shit.

It was Jonesy that was the voice for the group,
“Let's just see how that works out, Hamilton.”

“Okay, I can do that,” I said slowly.

He looked out at the rest of the group, each one
nodding.

Promising an uneasy truce would be hard with a
proven enemy.

Brett looked relieved, Carson satisfied.

“See ya,” Carson said, walking off with Brett,
who cast a glance back at Jade.

I didn't like that.

Jonesy said real low, so they couldn't hear, “We
close that gate from now on, I don't like them lurking around.”

John laughed. “Lurking?”

“Yeah,” I agreed.

Tiff said, “I trust him about as far as I can
throw him.”

“Me too,” Bry said.

“You don't even know them,” Jade said,
puzzled.

“No, but I know guys like them.”

“Carson's a pyro.” Sophie said.


Oh...
great,” Bry said. “Wait, why didn't he light somebody up? Those
types
always
have to show off.”

“I was tuned up,” John said.

Bry
looked a question at John. “
You're
the Null? That's right!” he smacked his forehead, then winced.
“Last night, you guys were testing that out...”

John nodded.

“That works pretty well,” Bry chuckled.

“We're all just pawns on his chessboard,” John
said. “He's made a move, trying to take us off-guard, then he'll
strike when we're not expecting it.”

“We'll have to be expecting it then,” I said,
my arm around Jade, who gave me a little squeeze back. “Ouch!”

“What?” I looked at her, she put her hand to
her side.

“Let me see.”

“We want to look,” Jonesy said. Wounds
fascinated him.

Jade blushed with all the attention but lifted up
her shirt a little.

Somehow, it looked markendly worse in broad
daylight. The beginning of the bruise from last night extended even
further, a rainbow now of various shades.

“Definite flogging,” Jonesy said.

“Yeah,” John and I both said at the same time.

A
reckoning.

All of us looked at each other grim faced. Jade
lowered her shirt.

“He's in jail right now, he can't make bail and
Andrea won't do it. She won't pay, I know it.”

“That's the first piece of good news I've heard
in the last 24 hours,” Bry said.

“Let's get out of here. I need to regroup with
my parents,” I said.

Filling in everyone that arrived late, I mentioned
my dad had a plan to take the heat off of me.

“That's good. I mean, they're just going to try
for you again if there isn't anything done,” Bry said.

“He's right, Caleb,” Jade said.

Everyone nodded. “It's not just me,” I said,
looking at them all in turn. “It's any of us, all of us...”

“If Kyle can help with an idea, we can maybe
have normal lives,” John said, adding airquotes.

“Okay, pulse us,” Bry said, indicating he and
Tiff. “I want to know what's happening. And for the record, I don't
trust that weasel, Carson.”

“Don't,” I said.

Bry raised his eyebrows.

Oh. “Yeah, I'll let ya know.”

He nodded, the girls gave each other hugs, Jade
getting handled more carefully.

“Hey Jade, maybe you should go to the doctor?”
Sophie said.

“Can't. No health insurance.”

What? “You don't have the chip?”

“No. Those were being done on a day I missed
school, around the time when my mom died,” she said softly.

Ouch. We let it drop but Jonesy said, “It's
alright, if it's a busted rib, they can't do jack anyway.”

He meant well and Jade got that.

We got on our bikes, Jade balancing and wincing.

“How come you rode?” I asked, noticing it
hurt.

“Faster,” she said, breathing through the
pain. I balanced my right foot in the dirt, the bike seat riding
right under my butt and put a hand on the back of Jade's head,
showing her with my eyes I was sorry she was hurting.

“I'm sorry I couldn't stop him.”

“It could have been worse, you deflected it.”

“I guess,” I said. She was “managing” my
feelings.

“Caleb?” John asked.

Balancing on my toes I turned to him. “Yeah.”
My hand slid away from Jade.

“If Parker said your house was bugged and you
guys talked about Garcia, don't the Graysheets know
all
now?”
he asked.

I had a moment of panic so big that I couldn't
breathe.

John and Jade saw my face. “It's okay, wouldn't
something bad have happened by now if they knew?” Jade said.

My heart felt loaded up in my throat, stalled.

John shook my shoulder. “Hey, snap out of it.”

Jonesy said, “Let's just ride to your house and
ask your dad, he'll know.”

I finally breathed out. Couldn't do anything about
it right now. I needed to see if the Graysheets knew more, had nailed
Garcia, what my dad's new scheme was.

I nodded.

“You okay now?” John asked.

Jonesy gave me a hard guy-clap on my back.
“Caleb's okay, aren't ya?”

I looked at our group, the Js and Jade, yeah, I
guess I was.

Whatever happened after I got home, I had them.

CHAPTER 35

I dumped my bike on the front lawn, glancing back
at Jade once. She smiled and I rushed through the front door not
bothering to close it.

The parents glanced up at me, startled. “What's
the problem Caleb?” Dad asked, rising off the couch, looking behind
me for possible pursuers.

Mom looked too, but it was only Jade and the Js
coming through the front door. Mom gave me a puzzled look, with a
dash of anxiety thrown in.

I put my index finger against my closed mouth, the
universal sign for quiet.

Dad nodded and I pointed to the back deck. All of
us moved out there.

“What's going on?”

“Remember I told you that the Graysheets bugged
our house?”

“Yes.”

“Well, we talked about everything last night,
Garcia, everything. Then this morning I told you where the hideout
was,” I said in a rush.

“Oh. Okay, I'll explain. First, we can go back
inside.”

I shook my head no.

“It's okay Caleb, when I spoke with Garcia, he
phoned me from a secure pulse, gave me directions on how to
neutralize the bugs, and I answered yes or no. There's no way the
Graysheets could have heard. Unless they're telepathic and could
understand more than a yes or a no.”

I let the breath I'd been holding out in a rush.

“How'd you deactivate the bugs?” John asked.

“Garcia figured it would be a pulse-based system
interface. I used our security system, using the 'terminate all pulse
sensors' feature.”

“Doesn't that flat-line everything in your
house; pulse, lights, everything?” Jade asked, Mom was nodding.


Yes,
our system has an automatic reset, if all pulse is deactivated, it
automatically resets all
known
devices.”

“Their stuff wasn't included in the start-up
because...” I began.

“It didn't register,” Mom finished.

“Nice,” Jonesy said.

“Obvious, really,” John said.

“They'll know when they can't hear us anymore,”
I said.

“It's temporary, putting the kibosh on their
surveillance, which bring me to a new point,” Dad said.

Here we go.

“I think we should go to that journalist that
worked on those articles that John brought for you to read.”

“Who?”

“Tim Anderson,” John said quickly.

“Yes, that's the man,” Dad said smiling at
John.

“Why? What can he do for us?” I asked.

“He
can make them hesitate,” Mom said.

“You mean from taking me again?”


Taking
anyone, Caleb. It's bigger than just you. Everyone that is a
five-point should not have to live under the threat of
loss-of-liberty. I'm sorry, I misspoke, in your case, a six-point.
Your safety is paramount. If we visit Anderson, he exposes them.
Keeping the Graysheets planning
their
next strategy rather than executing.”

“Let's lift their skirt and make them worry
about their panties,” Jonesy said.

Mom and Jade looked at him.

“What? That's like a perfect....”

“... analogy,” John helped.

“Humph!” Mom commented.

Sometimes Jonesy really put his foot in it. Dad
was making the I'm-not-going-to-smile face which gave his mouth a
strange, crooked look.

“I've already contacted him and he'll meet with
us at,” Dad looked at the pulse-clock, “six.”

I was starving. Even with Jade as a constant
distraction, I needed to fill the hole. I looked at Mom.

“Those pancakes all gone?” she guessed.

“Mine are!” Jonesy said, sensing food was
close.

“You didn't have pancakes,” I said,
suspicious.

Jonesy discounted my comment with a wave of his
hand. “Doesn't matter, I haven't eaten in hours,” he moaned
dramatically, clutching his stomach.

Brother.

Mom grinned, she loved Jonesy's theatrics. “I
have some leftover pizza?”

John asked, “Is there enough?”

“Always.”

As we engulfed the pizza, Jade watched in a sort
of numb horror as Jonesy ate four slices in ten minutes; we discussed
who would visit Anderson. We decided that all of us going would give
more credit to the story.

“The point is,” Dad said, in between bites of
cheesy pizza, “their presence may lend a degree of validity that
would otherwise not be there. We'd go there and look like hysterical
parents bent on some anti-government zealotry.”

“But you're not hysterical,” I said.

“I know that son, but Anderson doesn't,” Dad
said.

“Yeah, Caleb,” Jonesy began, all his pizza
crammed to one side of his mouth, hand on a glass filled with pop.
“There's a ton of nut jobs out there, waiting to crack.”

“You're
on it today, Jonesy,” John said.

“Every
day, pal,” Jonesy said.

Jade rolled her eyes and we all laughed.

****

Kent Station was in the valley and that's where
the Seattle Post-Intelligencer's satellite office was located. Dad
drove up, easily finding a parking spot, completely unheard of in our
city of two hundred thousand. We tumbled out, the Js and Jade hanging
around on the sidewalk while Dad put his thumb on the pulse-meter.

The Js tried to sprint ahead to the door. “Hang
on, kids,” Dad said, without looking up. Mom was still fumbling
with her stuff, piling a hoodie, purse and her dedicated pulse-reader
together.

“Mom, seriously? The DR?”

“It makes me frantic not having the option to
read.”

Like she was going to read when we were about to
rat on the big, bad super-secret government dudes. Right.

We walked toward the building, all height and
glass. It looked like a giant, sea-green jewel, spearing the sky
above us. The huge sign on top read: Seattle Post-Intelligencer, and
was illuminated with glowing, electric-blue letters.

We walked through the door, getting in line for
the pulse-body scan. Terrorist threats were such a damn drag. All
points of entry: police, fire, media were all protected by
Pulse-scan.

The lady with the Pulse-wand stood at the ready,
her bored face primed to do the next wand pass. “Come forward
please, arms up, turn-around.... next.”

I knew Jonesy was going to have trouble with the
urge-to-laugh-at-inappropriate-times when he started to cover his
mouth. This problem of his was terribly contagious. Thankfully, Jade
and I were already through the line.

But John wasn't.

Out of the three of us, John being the most
serious personality, had the worst trouble calming down once Jonesy
began laughing.

John tried, he really did, but when Jonesy burst
out laughing the instant the dour TSA worker said, “Next,” John
doubled over and couldn't stand up again, he laughed so hard his head
turned tomato-red.

The TSA gal made it worse by saying, “young man,
young man...” she sputtered. “Stand up!”

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