Read Online Almost Dead (Dead, #1) by Rebecca A. Rogers - Free Book Online
Authors: Rebecca A. Rogers
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hand.”
“What?”
“Use your anger.”
Everything clicks. I should’ve seen this all along—it’s Laney’s face, she’s running her mouth about something stupid, and I smack the piss out of it. A dream finally comes true.
Here goes nothing. I rear my arm back and swing…directly through the book. Sara gives me a reassuring nod, and I mentally prepare myself for a second round. You can do this, Flora . The same thing happens—I miss. But on the third attempt, the hardcover soars across the gray, grassy zone and lands nearby.
“Good. Keep trying,” Sara says, pushing me to the limit.
All of this work has left me exhausted. Do the dead have some form of nourishment that gives them extra drive? Like, phantom mojo or something? Too bad I can’t lean on the table for support.
“Why do I feel sick?”
“The longer you’re away from your body, the more fragile you become. When you use excess energy that’s been controlled, it deteriorates your corpse, because you’re still linked.”
“So the more I use, the worse it is for me ? As in, the actual me?”
Conveying her oh-so-important opinion on the matter, Laney says, “That’s stupid.”
But f or once, I actually agree with her. If practicing is only going to kill us, then what’s the point? When we arrive in this Shadowlands place, we won’t have enough energy to apply what we’ve learned here. Sara might as well send us to the Elders.
“You have to learn how to control it, only moving objects out of necessity rather than pleasure,” Sara informs us.
“So, you can’t annoy the crap out of people you hate?” Laney asks, looking confused as ever. I don’t think she’d understand what’s going on even if Sara drew a picture.
“Not unless you’re expecting a death wish,” I say. My answer may not be as nice as Sara’s, but at least it’s honest.
“I don’t remember asking you,” Laney retorts.
“Fine, then. You think you can do what I just did? Let’s see.”
Laney’s so confident she can win at everything, but she needs to wake up. This isn’t one of her shallow beauty pageants. She needs to realize that this is a life or death situation. Once we’re done, we’re D-O-N-E. There is no turning back. We can’t magically return to our bodies, which are whoknowswhere at this point. I mean, it’s not like I have a map of the afterlife.
Laney tilts her nose upward, breezing past me on her way to Sara. “Get the damn book,” she orders. “I’m tired of waiting around.”
Sara retrieves the tattered item from the grass and holds it in front of Laney, who, in turn, takes her first swipe.
chapter eight • laney
W hy can’t I hit this stupid thing? I’ve tried and tried, and nothing happens. Sara probably put some sort of ghostly spell on it so she could laugh internally at my pathetic effort.
“What are you staring at?” I growl at Flora. She’s refraining from bursting into a fit of giggles; her bottom lip is being held down by her top, and they’re both turning white.
“Oh, nothing,” she airily replies. She’s rolling around in a pool of conceitedness—drowning, even. Meanwhile, I’m pouring the sprinkles and topping it off with a cherry.
“Laney, it’s been much longer than I anticipated,” our creepy spirit wrangler reminds me. “I’m afraid if you can’t accomplish this soon, I’m going to have to move on to the next phase.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask. She better not be traveling through more portals and leaving me behind.
“I can’t keep you here forever,” she answers.
Like I didn’t already know that…
T hen she adds, “What comes shortly is essential to your survival. The next person who dies in your hometown guarantees a ticket to the Shadowlands.”
“Wait… what?” Flora opens her big-ass mouth before I can open mine. “Someone dies and we get to go home?”
“It’s not that easy , and it’s not the home you’re used to. You’re stuck
“What?”
“Use your anger.”
Everything clicks. I should’ve seen this all along—it’s Laney’s face, she’s running her mouth about something stupid, and I smack the piss out of it. A dream finally comes true.
Here goes nothing. I rear my arm back and swing…directly through the book. Sara gives me a reassuring nod, and I mentally prepare myself for a second round. You can do this, Flora . The same thing happens—I miss. But on the third attempt, the hardcover soars across the gray, grassy zone and lands nearby.
“Good. Keep trying,” Sara says, pushing me to the limit.
All of this work has left me exhausted. Do the dead have some form of nourishment that gives them extra drive? Like, phantom mojo or something? Too bad I can’t lean on the table for support.
“Why do I feel sick?”
“The longer you’re away from your body, the more fragile you become. When you use excess energy that’s been controlled, it deteriorates your corpse, because you’re still linked.”
“So the more I use, the worse it is for me ? As in, the actual me?”
Conveying her oh-so-important opinion on the matter, Laney says, “That’s stupid.”
But f or once, I actually agree with her. If practicing is only going to kill us, then what’s the point? When we arrive in this Shadowlands place, we won’t have enough energy to apply what we’ve learned here. Sara might as well send us to the Elders.
“You have to learn how to control it, only moving objects out of necessity rather than pleasure,” Sara informs us.
“So, you can’t annoy the crap out of people you hate?” Laney asks, looking confused as ever. I don’t think she’d understand what’s going on even if Sara drew a picture.
“Not unless you’re expecting a death wish,” I say. My answer may not be as nice as Sara’s, but at least it’s honest.
“I don’t remember asking you,” Laney retorts.
“Fine, then. You think you can do what I just did? Let’s see.”
Laney’s so confident she can win at everything, but she needs to wake up. This isn’t one of her shallow beauty pageants. She needs to realize that this is a life or death situation. Once we’re done, we’re D-O-N-E. There is no turning back. We can’t magically return to our bodies, which are whoknowswhere at this point. I mean, it’s not like I have a map of the afterlife.
Laney tilts her nose upward, breezing past me on her way to Sara. “Get the damn book,” she orders. “I’m tired of waiting around.”
Sara retrieves the tattered item from the grass and holds it in front of Laney, who, in turn, takes her first swipe.
chapter eight • laney
W hy can’t I hit this stupid thing? I’ve tried and tried, and nothing happens. Sara probably put some sort of ghostly spell on it so she could laugh internally at my pathetic effort.
“What are you staring at?” I growl at Flora. She’s refraining from bursting into a fit of giggles; her bottom lip is being held down by her top, and they’re both turning white.
“Oh, nothing,” she airily replies. She’s rolling around in a pool of conceitedness—drowning, even. Meanwhile, I’m pouring the sprinkles and topping it off with a cherry.
“Laney, it’s been much longer than I anticipated,” our creepy spirit wrangler reminds me. “I’m afraid if you can’t accomplish this soon, I’m going to have to move on to the next phase.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask. She better not be traveling through more portals and leaving me behind.
“I can’t keep you here forever,” she answers.
Like I didn’t already know that…
T hen she adds, “What comes shortly is essential to your survival. The next person who dies in your hometown guarantees a ticket to the Shadowlands.”
“Wait… what?” Flora opens her big-ass mouth before I can open mine. “Someone dies and we get to go home?”
“It’s not that easy , and it’s not the home you’re used to. You’re stuck
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