"Are you dead?"
"Yes."
The jurors gasped.
I whispered something to my attorney who nodded in agreement, Clyde's eyes shifting from Toothy to me.
My attorney stood and the Judge's eyes went to his. "Yes?" he put up a palm to halt the interrogation from Toothy.
He huffed, folding his arms across his chest.
"May I interject a question on behalf of my client?" my defense attorney queried.
"That is not usually allowed," the Judge said, his eyes shifting from me to my attorney.
"It brings balance to the current question."
The Judge leaned back in his chair, his bulk making it creak in protest. He steepled his fingers. "It better balance it alright."
"Yes, Your Honor, I think it does."
"Approach the witness and ask your question." Then, "No," he paused, looking at the two lawyers like sharks circling each other in a fishbowl, "you tell him the question," he pointed at Prosecutor, "and he will address the... witness," he said, indicating Clyde.
My attorney walked to Toothy, telling him the question and Prosecutor backed up. "No! I will not, it makes no sense," he said in an astounded answer.
My attorney stared at him until Prosecutor's eyes fell, then he hissed out, "It's relevant and you know it!"
Toothy pegged his hands on his skinny hips, then narrowed his eyes at Clyde.
Seconds passed, the courtroom held its collective breath.
Finally he asked, "Are you alive?"
Clyde paused for a heartbeat, two. Then his eyes shifted to a point in the audience.
Bobbi Gale. He looked at her when he answered.
"Oh yes."
The courtroom was instantaneously plunged into a vortex of noise and chaos.
The gavel came down on top of the Judge's great wooden desk, over and over again.
"Order!" he sputtered.
Clyde's eyes met mine.
We smiled at each other.
It was gonna be okay.
CHAPTER 2
present day
Beep! Beep! Beep!
My dream of the courtroom shattered like a million pieces of broken glass. It was a rare night anymore that I was dreamless.
My arm flung out until it made serious contact with my Indestructible Pulse Clock.
Actually, they were plenty destructible, this was my third one. I turned over on my back and Onyx belly crawled along the top of my bed and gave a long lick to my cheek.
Disgusting.
I patted his head anyway, "Good dog, Onyx."
Wag-thunk-wag.
Dogs were always in the same mood every day... good. No morning issues. They dug Mondays just like any other day.
I fantasized briefly about how cool it would be to be a dog.
No parents.
No homework.
No interference.
I frowned at that last thought. My probation was almost up.
I looked around my room, mainly clean now. I guess I was kinda bored if things were even remotely organized. But with Jade coming over all the time... hell, I just couldn't hide my homework and stuff in my clothes bin. She'd asked disturbingly logical questions.
Like: how come your dirty clothes aren't in there?
Or, my personal favorite... where are your clothes?
I grabbed my slick new pulse. It was a smart pulse. (As opposed to dumb?) And thumb-swiped it to awake.
Hello Caleb, we are currently running updates. Your pulse communication system will be operational in three minutes and twenty-six point four seconds.
So much for smartness. I had to wait to pulse Jade because these jag-ups were running an update. I noticed how they loved to run dumbass updates only when I needed to pulse somebody.
Effing Murphy's Law.
But it wasn't just anybody, it was Jade. She had to be checked on. Every day.
Now that she'd been with that loser foster family for almost a year, it was my daily chore. I'd worked the whole summer again as a Yard Servant to the Rich (which included lectures from Gramps about how lucky I was not having to do the acres of lawn mowing that he had to in his day).
Right, uh-huh.
I'd bought a special pulse-lock for her bedroom door at the foster family's house. She lived in the basement, translation: dungeon. There was one small and narrow window. It ran about one and a half meters wide by forty-six centimeters tall. I was sure it broke every lame fire code there was. I bet Jade could escape if she needed to because she was so small, but a dude? No way.
They couldn't get in now, though. That lock was the Rock of Gibraltar. Impenetrable. Except, of course, for Archer. He could kick any lock's ass. He was an asset to the group. Totally.
I swung my legs to the floor, grabbing my pulse-reader off the corner of my desk where my pulsetop monitor was suspended over the writing surface, pulse magnetization holding it in midair. I slipped out the door and went downstairs in my boxers, heading toward the laundry room. Hadn't quite gotten the hang of putting away my clothes and crap but they were in the dryer... clean. A step up for me.
Mom had her back to me so I tried to sneak by.
I got nailed anyway.
"Caleb!"
Onyx trotted behind me and I never slowed, answering as I walked, "Yeah!"
"Clothes!"
"They're in the dryer, Mom," I replied.
I knew a rant was coming.
"You need to fold them and put them in the drawers."
Uh-huh... I'd get right on that. I looked down at the pulse.
"Uh-huh," I muttered as I swiped my thumb across the pad.
Operational, thirty seconds.
Eff... finally.
I pushed open the dryer door and jerked out a shirt and a pair of jeans, socks and new boxers bunched in my left hand.
Onyx started sifting through the sorted dirty piles on the floor.
"Knock it off!" I hissed at Onyx. "Mom's gonna have ten cows."
I turned and there was Mom, hands on hips, a frown on her face.
"Do we need to have another responsibility discussion?"
I didn't think I ever needed one of those especially after that beaut of a dream and it being Lame Monday and everything.
No.
"No," I said, breezing past her on the way to the bathroom.
"I don't ask much, Caleb."
Right, and monkeys fly outta my ass.
"But I'd like for you to at least remove your laundered clothing from the dryer."
"Yeah, okay Mom. Can we talk about all this fun stuff later?"
Dad came into the kitchen and arched his brows. "Got your stuff there, pal?"
I nodded. "Yeah."
"Great, have a good day at school... I've got to head in early."
Good. Day. At. School.
Yeah. The only thing that made it good was seeing my girl.
Shit!
I looked at my pulse.
The luminescent characters came together in a rush: Operational.
I swiped it as I locked myself in the bathroom and jerked on the tap for the hot water.
Just a small pulse, I told myself, seeing that time was not my friend.
Top Five Contact: Hot One.
Hey- Stud
Hey back- Hot One
Is everything okay? Stud
Yes... for now. Let's talk more later when we get to school- Hot One
I knew that was code for her walking on her tiptoes around the False Ass Fam.
Okay, you're not...
Break in pulse communication
No, no... I'm fine, I just want to get out of here as soon as I can- Hot One
K, just checkin' in- Stud
I know smiles- Hot One
Love ya- Stud
Me too- Hot One
I swiped to hibernate and stepped into the shower. The warm spray ran down my face and hit the porcelain of the shower pan. I was thinking about everything. The nightmare of the last ten months. The problems with Brett, waiting for a Parker interruption, my probation. All of it.
We'd only just started junior year and already the crap was rollin' downhill. Jade had a month before she could take possession of her aunt's house legally, not that she could live there right away. The place looked like a dump now. The weeds that were once a choked but short brown lawn grew up in strangled patches like forgotten islands in the middle of a sea of muck. I sighed, remembering the awful move into her foster family's house. It was almost worse that they lived in the same neighborhood.
So close to her former house and the memories of the murders there.
So close to Brett, his spark of life given freely and now part of why Jade lived.
I felt myself scowl and turned off the water tap hard, the spigot groaning under the assault.
I stepped out and approached the fogged mirror.
I wiped my forearm across the glass, making a swish mark so I could shave.
A thing that was so fun I wanted to stab myself in the eye. And to think I thought I'd be such a Man when I could. Now it was buying the razor that had the best blades so it might actually cut the hair off my face rather than tearing it off.
Jade liked a little stubble, she'd told me and I smiled over that. That's not all she liked, I thought with a little perv-glee. I thought we were getting pretty close to doin' the deed... but I hadn't pushed. This year had been kinda awful. Her dad and aunt both dying... how it happened. Then the move to the Foster Fam from Hell.
Yeah, the old love life took a back seat to all that noise. Brett was an added complication.
He was totally in love with my girl. And there wasn't jackshit I could do about it.
After all, if I hadn't given her a piece of him, he might have just stayed infatuated, feeling all Knight in Shining Armor and it would have faded.
Instead of intensifying.
I nicked myself on my chin. That GD cleft was a pain in the ass to shave.
Jonesy called it a butt chin.
Dad said it was the way to tell if your parents were biologically yours (insert internal eye-roll here). One of the Parents had to have an ass chin or you were a stork kid.
I smiled at my reflection, washing off the razor and clicking it three times on the rolled porcelain rim of the wash basin. Yeah, I had a butt chin, but not too much, just an indent really.
Jade liked to kiss that too.
I whistled a little as I walked out the bathroom door, thinking about stuff.
Mom was outside, my lunch pulse at the counter's edge. She lifted it like a small flag. "I credited your month already."
"How much?"
"Two hundred."
"Mom, that's not gonna cover the second milk."
"Going..." she paused and I frowned at her correction. "Alrighty... another...?"
"Fifty bucks, Mom."
She sighed, rolling her eyes. I don't know why. Dad made a buttload of cash being the Big Scientist, they could ante up for the milk. Hell, I bet we could have an incinerator in the house to burn away the extra money. Mom didn't believe in Waste though. She wanted me to have a "balanced" childhood.
Yeah, that worked out. Shit was so normal in the Hart Household. Hell, we'd just gotten Clyde weaned from hanging around the trash separators.
She laid the lunch credit pulse card against the disc behind her ear and thought the additional money into the thing, handing it to me.
"I want the..."
"Credit, yeah Mom, duh."
"Caleb..."
"Mom, I think I'm clear about the credit now?" I responded, cocking an eyebrow.
She frowned again, smoothly changing the subject, "Did you get the weekend squared away with the gang?"
I nodded, it was Labor Day and Gramps was torching flesh on the BBQ-er.
Mom looked at her clasped hands nervously and I hesitated at the door, Onyx's tail whacking into my knee in a dog-rhythm.
Her eyes met mine, so like Gramps. I knew what she was thinking and answered her unspoken question, "Yeah, I won't forget."
"I'm sorry to remind you like this all the time Caleb... you're nearly an adult now it's just." Her eyes welled with tears and I fought being a male then, I just wasn't upset or emotional about the whole thing. I'd been tried, there were rules in place, my youth had protected me just not fully.
"I'll check in with probation, Mom," I said, giving her a pat on the shoulder.
"I'm just scared you'll go to jail," she said in a whisper.
Well hell, me too."Nah... it's been forever, I've got... what, two months? Then I'm off the hook." I gave her a wider smile than I felt.
I hated checking in with probation, I hated feeling like I was guilty of something that I knew I couldn't have handled differently. It was different when the people that made the rules had never been challenged with the things they were making the rules for.
Lame.
Mundanes shouldn't be judging paranormals. If I had it my way, only paranormals would judge paranormals. Where was their damn point of reference anyway?
Nowhere.
I grabbed the lunch credit pulse and stuffed it in the back of my jeans. I gave Mom a last look and she returned a watery smile.
