The Death Series: A Dark Dystopian Fantasy Box Set: (Books 1-3) (60 page)

That made me laugh harder.

Suddenly, two noses were pressing on the glass outside the office; the Js.

Chen sighed, giving up on me and motioned for them to come in.

Jonesy took one look at me and said, “Cool it, ya fool.”

I doubled over and John shook his head.

Mom folded her arms over her chest. “If you can stop being ridiculous for two seconds, maybe you can get to your class? Do you think you can manage that?”

I hiccuped to a stop.
It was critical that I didn't look at Chen.

The Js saw that I was having trouble and looked at Chen, a slow grin spreading on Jonesy's face.

Chen stood up, running her hands down her sensible pencil skirt. She looked like she was in mourning, all black. Black hair, black skirt, hose, shoes and silk tee.
Weird.
Kinda goth for an in-charge chick like Chen.

“Your parents are coming to pick you up. There will be a one day, out-of-school suspension for the both of you.”

John paled and Jonesy shrugged.

John's parents were going to take his entrails out and hang him with them. Jonesy could probably manage Bill and Helen, they were immune to news of their son now.

“Mr. Hart. Stay out of trouble. Brody Smucker and Diego Billings will have a three-day suspension, Carson Hamilton and Brett Mason will have a one-day.”

Her eyes bored into the Js and John got a red as a fire engine blush but Jonesy didn't even falter. “Those clowns should get more days.”

Oh cripes. Mom put her head in her hands but Chen said, “That may be, Mr. Jones. I am well aware of Mr. Mason and Mr. Hamilton's social interaction issues...”

I barked out a laugh and she gave me The Look. “Sorry,” I mumbled, making the crooked mouth again.

Mom saw. “Caleb, get moving.” She pointed at the door.

I stumbled out the door, barely containing myself. I looked at my watch and saw that I had maybe ten minutes left of first hour, AFTD. Not looking forward to that. At. All.

I was doing okay and then the Js jogged up behind me.

“Nice in there, Hart. What, you couldn't put a cork in it for like, five minutes? It's amazing Chen didn't do a pecker-pull,” Jonesy said.

John and I flinched.
That sounded painful
.

Jonesy ran a hand over the top of his nappy hair and it sprang back to life like an errant rug. “At least Smucker and Billings are outta here for three days. A little reprieve from their suckiness,” he said and John nodded.

“Smucker?” I asked.

“Yeah, that dillweed Brody.”

“That's him and Christi's last name?”

John and Jonesy were looking at me oddly.

“Yeah.”

“Like the jam?”

John shrugged. “Yeah.”

I howled again. Somehow, thinking of those sibs in terms of food was hilarious.

The Js stared at me, puzzled.

Jonesy clapped me on the back. “Suck it up, hysteria king, or Smith is gonna stick you in some coffin.”

Right, I took deep breaths. What a weird-ass day.

I got into class and Ceci gave me a dirty look. Guess she was all put out that Carson the Creep wasn't gonna be at school tomorrow.

Gramps would say,
cry me a river.
I was gonna get right on that.

Tiff gave me the guy nod, lifting her chin up a fraction of an inch.

I gave it back as Smith tracked my progress to my seat and I flung myself into it, heaving my backpack on the back of my chair.

“Mr. Hart. How did your chat go with Principal Chen?”

I shrugged. “Okay.”

His eyes narrowed. “I'd like to make a case study on the group of killings that are presently going on in our area.”

Tiff and I looked at each other. We weren't allowed to talk about this.

He saw our expressions. “It's based on whatever is public knowledge.” He put his hand out like,
everything's cool here.

I wasn't buying it. Hadn't he just tried to bulldoze the crime scene? What did he care, anyway? And how was he AFTD? He seemed so old to be a paranormal. Like, he was balding for cripe's sake.

“I have a question,” I said.

“Yes, Mr. Hart.”

“I was wondering when your original inoculation was?”

Tiff was nodding; it was a good question.

“I was in the first group.”

“I thought that everyone was done in 2015,” I said, for once feeling pretty good about knowing more stuff 'cuz of my dad.

He shook his head. “No, not all. There were a group of us that were a 'placebo' group.”

I knew what that was: some people were injected with the real juice and others got saline solution.

I guess he got a kick of the real thing.

“There were a few in my group that manifested unique abilities.”

Something stunk.

“Who was in your group?
Not
mundanes, Mr. Smith,” I asked.

There was a small silence. “Jeffrey Parker, for one.”

Okay, now we were getting somewhere.

“He's in some freaky government op thing, right?” Tiff said in typical eloquent style, snapping a bubble.

Smith cringed, holding out his small trash separator, but responded, “There is evidence that points to Parker's affiliation with a government entity.”

Evidence my ass. Tiff looked at me and rolled her eyes, throwing the wad of gum in the can.

“So,” he clapped his hands together, my earlier humor slipping away like autumn fog that faced the cold, “...about the victims. Let's talk about a zombie's state-of-mind and how it differs at the time of death if say, someone is murdered versus someone that dies peacefully.”

Was death peaceful?

I didn't think so.

CHAPTER 23

Mom hovered anxiously around Helen, who was in a reclined position on the chaise lounge on Gramps' illegal grass.

“Are you sure there's nothing I can get you?” Mom asked anxiously.

“No,” Helen groaned, her forearm making an indentation on her hair (I hadn't thought that was possible). “I feel ridiculous. I am forty-two years old; I've been pregnant before, this should be easy.”

Mom said, “Well, I didn't think it was.”

I left The Vicinity before they discussed the Dreaded Childbirth Stories.

My posse of dudes were all here, sucking down pops. Jonesy already had the next can of Coke on the picnic table in front of him. He and John clicked cans together. “Happy birthday, Terran.”

John nodded. “You too.”

They slugged their pops and I slid in on top of the bench seat next to Jade. It was the last week of September and the sky had that surreal deep blue, the type that it got right before autumn came.

We sat there quietly for a second and Jade said, “Fifteen is so lame.” Her voice was glum.

I squeezed her against me. “Why?” I pressed a kiss on the top of her head and she gave me a wan smile.

“Because, if we were sixteen, we could drive, we'd be sophomores...”

“Ah, I've gotta take that dumb-ass Driver's Ed in the summer because of my birthday,” Jonesy interrupted.

“Me too,” John added.

Bry said, “That's what you do if you got a fall birthday. Otherwise, it's the biggest teaser in the world turning sixteen but not done with the class part. That sucks.”

We all nodded, Bry was the only one of the group that had wheels.

Alex was wearing the longest board shorts in the world, like capris. Wardrobe-challenged much. “When do you turn...?”

“Seventeen?” Bry said.

“Yeah,” Alex said.

“December.”

“Why were you at school when the goon squad tried to be losers again?” I asked.

“Ah, news flash, Caleb, they're not trying,” John said.

I nodded,
true.

“Droppin' Tiff off.”

“That was lucky,” John said.

“Don't believe in luck,” Jonesy said.

“I could have helped,” Alex said indignantly.

“Right. But you wanted to keep things secret,” Jade said.

We all looked at each other. “I think that's out now,” I said.

Bry lifted his brows and I expounded, “Alex threw a formula-guy through the gym door.”

Bry's head whipped to Alex and he ducked his head, pleased with himself.

“Like, pushed him...?” Bry asked.

“No, it was a superman,” Jonesy said, throwing both arms straight out in front of him.

“Cape time,” John agreed.

“What happened that he had to go through the door? Just askin'!” Bry said.

I told him the whole deal; them trying to force Griswold to let us go with them, how she'd managed their suit-asses, how they were packin' heat; all of it.

“This sounds a little like Graysheet-action to me,” he said.

We nodded. It had to us too.

“Can you believe Griswold?” Jonesy said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I thought she really sucked...” Jade said and Sophie nodded.

Tiff said, “Well, she really sucked for them!”

We laughed then John said, “We'll have a sub until Griswold gets back.”

“Maybe she won't come back. Ya know, like the government freaks will get her.”

We chewed on that. Finally, I said, “No way, they wouldn't want her around for any long term stuff. She'd totally cramp their style. She's gotta be In Charge.”

Gramps hollered for us to get over and suck up some food.

Didn't have to ask us twice
.
The guys jogged over to the BBQ-er and Gramps turned to us. “Why don't you swine let the girls go first?”

Right.

Tiff, Sophie and Jade looked at us and Jade said, “Let them go... we don't need to 'feed' so bad.” And she smiled.

I'd teach her another French lesson later. I grinned back and she looked like she was getting me.

We piled back around the picnic table and the adults (except Jonesy's mom, who looked kinda green) ate at the “adult's table” right on the deck.

We put our heads together. “What are we doing for Jade's birthday?” I asked.

She looked down at her plate for a second and I lifted her chin with a finger. “What?” Her green eyes were filling with tears.

“I think that my dad is going to try to come by and make me do something with him.”

“Ah, no. I mean, he can't, right?” I said, completely blown away with the thought of that turd being around Jade.

She shook her head. “The restraining order has expired and we have to prove that one needs to be re...”

“Implemented,” John said.

She nodded. “Yeah.”

Bry leaned back against the fence the table was shoved up against, an ugly cyclone thing (you got it, illegal). “I say if you're not there he can't find ya.” and shrugged.

“The hide-a-way is a good solution,” John offered.

“Yeah, the only thing we have to worry about is Clyde showing up,” Jonesy said.

I looked at him. “Why would he?”

“It seems that whenever you get within two miles of Scenic, dead shit happens,” Bry said.

Alex, Tiff and Sophie nodded.

Huh.

I thought about Jade celebrating her birthday in the dump. “Ah...I was thinking about a cleaner place.”

We were all quiet.

She shrugged a shoulder. “It's okay, I just want it to be private, my friends around Mia can come too.”

Jonesy rolled his eyes. “She's gonna have to do a show and tell for me to have enthusiasm with her joining our coolness.”

Sophie crossed her arms over her chest. “Not
your
coolness. She will be added to the girls' coolness, Jonesy.”

He opened his mouth to say something and Tiff suddenly asked, “When's your birthday, Hart?”

Jonesy smiled.

Brother.

“Halloween,” he said and made the sign of the vampire cross.

Bry leaned forward. “No shit?”

I nodded.

“That's funny, Hart. I mean really. That's like the height of weirdness.”

“Irony,” John added.

“Pretty cool,” Tiff said. “I mean, it fits and all.”

Jade smiled. “I think you're the one that will have to have a huge party, Caleb.”

Whatever, it wasn't an important birthday or anything. It's just like Jade said, only fifteen.

“So, when is yours?” Tiff asked Jade.

“Next Saturday.” Jade said.

“Almost October...” Alex said.

Yeah. “My mom will bake a cake. What's your favorite?” I asked.

She smiled. “Banana.”

Figures as a girl she'd have to have lame fruit as part of it.

The guys made faces.

“What?” Sophie huffed. “Banana is perfectly respectable.”

“Chocolate is the only way to go,” Jonesy said.

“Pllleeeassse, that's so missionary position.”

He turned to Sophie with a glint in his eye. “And you'd know, huh?”

Mom said, from about two football fields away, “Did I hear a sexual innuendo?”

Oh. My. God.

Jonesy laughed, pointing at Sophie. “She's acting inappropriately Ali. I am being defiled,” he said, his hands coming to his heart.

Mom didn't buy it for a second.

“It was just an expression,” Sophie said, her face a dull brick color.

“You kids watch what you're talking about over there,” Gramps said. “Or, I'll have to think of some creative tasks for you to accomplish.”

I gave the group The Look. Gramps had talent, he could keep us working for hours.

“Why's that so bad?” Tiff asked. She had obviously never been Tasked by Gramps before.

“Ah-duh, Tiff. He'll have us picking each other's belly lint with tweezers for like, five and a half hours.”

“I was thinking toe jam,” Alex said for a crystal clear visual.

“Eewww!” Sophie said and Jade made the gag face

Tiff laughed. “You guys are so tame, you should be in my house.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Bry agreed.

“I don't think I want to hear the Weller stories,” Jade said as politely as possible.

“Probably not.” Bry agreed.

We started to polish off the food, our plans for Jade's birthday weekend set when Gramps gate swung open and the formula-guys waltzed in.

They were the same ones from school.

On Gramps' property.

Gramps slowly stood, taking in the measure of the pair and said to me, “Caleb, go in the house and get the puppy.”

Oh shit.

“Pop,” Mom began and he looked at her and her hand fell away from his sleeve.

Jonesy looked at me. “Don't tell me the puppy is some sissy thing.”

“Not from Mac it's not,” John said and Bry nodded.

It so wasn't
. I jogged into the house with the suits marking my progress.

I grabbed the KEL-TEC KSG bullpup shotgun that Gramps had trained me to use. He said it was the very best home self-defense weapon.

I checked that the safety was on and jogged back to where he stood, the nose of the shotgun pointing at the grass. My judo training, however short, swirled at the back of my head.

Gramps was big on preparation.

Mom covered her mouth with a hand and Helen said, “I think I'm going to sit down.” She looked around. “And watch the drama from there.”

Bill nodded, settling her in a chair and called Jonesy over with a hand.

“What in the Sam Hill is going on here? Who are these guys?” Bill started in.

Jonesy shrugged. “They're the guys that were lurking around during the AP Test last year.”

“So, they're okay,” Bill clarified.

Jonesy thought about it. Finally, he shook his head. “I don't think so, Dad.”

Bill straightened. “We need to get to the bottom of this.”

Jonesy put a hand on his arm. “Mac's got this, Dad.”

Bill looked at Jonesy, nearly his height now. “What do you mean?” He lowered his voice, “He's older now, Jonesy.”

Jonesy nodded. “Doesn't matter, he's got it goin' on, Dad.”

Bill waited with Jonesy and I gave the puppy to Gramps, stock first, like he'd shown me.

The suits put their hands under their jackets. “Hold up there, fellas.” Gramps said, pressing the muzzle of the shotgun under the tender flesh of Skinny-who-Smoked. “What are you doing on my property, packing heat, without being properly introduced?”

“Mac...” Dad began.

“Not now, Kyle. We need to get these introductions out of the way and then we can swap spit and take long showers. Right now, I don't know their plan.”

Stocky said, “Are you Mackenzie O'Brien?”

“I am,” Mac said, the muzzle never wavering.

“Can you take your gun away, sir, so that we can talk to the group here?”

“No.”

They stared at each other and whatever Stocky saw convinced him of Gramps' intent.

Gramps wasn't much of a negotiator.

“Alright, I'm going to disarm,” Stocky said.

“
Slow
Pal, or we're going to see daylight through his head.”

That was it for Helen, who ran to the house, making pre-barf sounds.

Huh.

Jonesy looked after her and Bill shrugged. “Nothing stops it,” he said, not without sympathy.

Stocky took Smoker's gun from the holster and put it on the ground and I gave Dad a look and he picked it up and put it out-of-reach. He repeated it with Stocky's gun.

Gramps hadn't moved. “Now the ones at the ankle, fellas.”

Stocky sighed, reaching to lift his pant leg up to reveal a super-small gun there too.

We put his and Smoker's guns with the others.

Stocky planted his hands on his hips like,
well?

Gramps lowered the muzzle and stepped back carefully; never lowering his eyes from the two of them.

“Not to be redundant but what are you doing on my property?” Gramps repeated warily.

The two looked at each other, then the loosely assembled crowd of teens and adults.

“We're sorry to intrude...” Stocky began, his hair lifting off a head that was almost bald, the suit sitting on him oddly, his muscular physique pushing it out in all the wrong places.

“No, you're not,” Gramps began.

“Mac, would you just let him speak please,” Dad said.

Gramps looked at Dad and neither flinched.