The Dead Series (Book 1): Tell Me When I'm Dead by Steven Ramirez Read Free Book Online Page A

were on fire from running and my eyes were blinded by tears of shame. My hands shook, and no matter how much I wanted to save Missy, I couldn’t open the door.
    Outside, Missy sobbed, scraping the door with her fingernails and calling my name. I pressed my head against the rough wood and closed my eyes. “Sorry.”
    Then I heard the most horrific sounds of fighting and tearing and screaming. After what seemed like forever, I heard a dull crack, then a groan.
    Then silence.
    I didn’t move for a long time. Eventually, I wiped my eyes on my sleeve and opened the door.
    Jim’s body lay sprawled at an angle on the ground, his head split in two. His arms and legs twitched for a second, then he was still. A dark stream of infectious black brain blood leaked into the earth. The greasy axe lay next to him. Bloody footprints led away into the forest.
    Missy was gone.
    I felt a lunatic’s laugh welling up inside me. This was perfect. Somehow Missy had gotten the better of the situation and killed my friend, who I knew was already dead. She’d stop at nothing to get me—and Holly too.
    I ran back to Missy’s house. Her front door was unlocked, and I went inside. “Missy?”
    I checked the entire house. She’d disappeared.
    My heart still pumping hard, I walked towards my truck, and before getting in I vomited on the ground.
    Once I was on the road, I checked my cell phone. There was one voice mail. It was Holly wondering where I was. I called her back, trying to make my voice sound calm.
    “Where’ve you been?”
    “I went to see Missy.”
    A long silence. “Will you be home soon?”
    “On my way.”
    After I hung up, a text message appeared. I almost crashed as I read it. You shouldn’t have done that, Dave.
    This was it—I was screwed. Missy would call the police and report me. Is there a law against not helping someone in danger? I could see the cops thinking I’d planned the whole thing to get rid of her. Holly and I had no money for an attorney, so I’d end up with some lame-ass public defender with bad breath and dandruff. I’d be convicted for sure, with Holly left on her own while I rotted in prison.

    “They found Jim,” Holly said as I walked in the front door.
    “What? Who?”
    “It’s pretty bad. Come into the kitchen. You smell like Death.”
    I took a chair at the table and rubbed my eyes, trying to suppress a giggle. I felt like I was in a long, dark drainage pipe and Holly was at the other end, leaning in and trying to get my attention. When I looked up, I saw she’d turned off the kettle and poured out two cups of tea. I had trouble holding my cup without spilling anything.
    “Detective Van Gundy called,” she said. “They found Jim’s body at a ranger station. A neighbor reported hearing screams and called 911.”
    I sipped at my tea and burned my tongue.
    “Someone killed him. And you know Van Gundy—he won’t say any more. Since Jim had no family, they want you to go down and identify the body.”
    “What? Now?”
    She looked away, pretending she heard something. “So what happened over there?”
    “I ended it,” I said.
    Things would have to play out. I was a spectator who had gotten free admission to a freak show. I stood to get more tea and heard myself saying, “I ended it.” A picture of Missy bringing down the axe on Jim left me weak. I knew she was coming for Holly and me.
    My legs gave out, and I crumpled to the floor.
    “Dave,” I heard Holly say. “Listen to me. You have to get it together.”
    “I’m okay,” I said. Holly helped me to my feet, and I sat. “Jim must’ve gone crazy. But now he’s dead. It’s over.”
    I was sick to my stomach and pushed my tea away. Holly turned on the TV, which was already tuned to the local news. We watched footage showing the front of Missy’s house. There was police tape everywhere, and cops trying to keep everyone back. A local reporter named Evie Champagne kept trying to jam her microphone into Detective Van Gundy’s