Free Death Whispers (Death Series, Book 1) by Tamara Rose Blodgett Page B

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.
    His last memory is a metal machine hitting him
and his life ebbing. Then one of the boys is there, calling to him.
He struggles, deciding he wants to play ball again and be a dog for
this boy. He Lives.

    I
snap out of the reverie of the dog's emotions, our glances lock, his
eyes imploring, and I know, that somehow I am responsible for this
life, this dog . The midnight-black tail wags like a friendly exclamation mark,
moving the mist slightly. Wait, what was that horrible sound; beep,
beep, beep, BEEP!

    I opened one blurry eye, slamming my palm down on
the alarm. All a dream! I flopped over on my back. Well, that was
freaky. The dog was communicating with me while I slept.
    I sighed, sitting up and swinging my feet around
to slap the floor, the warmth of my bed like clinging fingers begging
me to stay.
    Ignoring that, I walked over to the window
noticing the field shrouded in mist. Tall, Western Red Cedar and
Douglas fir trees were scattered like soldiers in battle, leading
down to Clark Lake.
    I turned away, feeling uneasy from the dream and
went for the bathroom. A shower would chase the lethargy away. I was
definitely going to find clean clothes, thinking of Jade.
    But my thoughts strayed back to the dog. He was a
part of my life now, whether I wanted him to be or not.
    After showering, great smells made their way
upstairs; fried egg sandwiches. Yup, that was it.
    I plopped down in my seat and Dad looked up from
his reading. “How did that reading go last night?”
    “Kinda scary.”
    Dad raised a brow.
    “This
Parker kid,” I hesitated, “was a lot like me.”
    Mom's
hand paused, then landed the egg on the buttered toast. She turned
and gave me a look, go
on .
    Mom placed the glass plate in front of me with a
perfectly centered, two-egg, cheese-laden breakfast. Steam rose from
the eggs, the cheese melting at the edges. Ah... bliss.
    I waded in without preamble. “He also 'heard'
things from animals. He was off the charts on his aptitude for the
AFTD.”
    Dad said, “We know that.”
    He
seemed annoyed. That I didn't need. I just found out I had this
ability and was trying to hide it. Get the dog, get the girl; no
pressure!
    Mom shot Dad a look. “What Dad means, is we'd
like to hear anything that you felt could help you with this.” She
gave me an encouraging look. I relaxed.
    I used my fork like a knife to shear off a corner
of the egg sandwich and popped a satisfying hunk in my mouth. I
chewed and watched The Parental Unit.
    “Looks like he could see ghosts too.” Dad
shrugged his acknowledgment. That was a typical aspect of AFTD.
    This is where I landed the bomb. “He could
control them too,”
    Dad stilled, his whole body stiff. Mom glanced at
him and they had a look that passed, one of those annoying ones that
said a lot but not to others.
    “That's not good,” Dad finally replied.
    I knew why I thought it wasn't a potentially good
thing for me to have but I wanted to hear Dad's thoughts.
    Mom echoed my feelings with. “What are your
thoughts, Kyle?”
    “If
he can control ghosts... hauntings, rather,” looking at us in that
quietly intense way of his, “then that is another useful tool. Dad
continued in the well of silence, “Him being a Cadaver-Manipulator
is certainly rare, but controlling hauntings?” he threw up his
hands to emphasize just how big that “little” skill would be.
    “I guess a little terror would go a long way,”
I said.
    “Let me get this straight,” Mom queried.
“Caleb is what? A domestic terrorist