Blue Dust

By Ralee Rowan

Fordyce Kerrich has a dirty, little secret. He’s a zombie – a hybrid zombie, to be exact. For a hundred and thirty years the Blue Dust teen has been on the run. He’s been running from the seekers who want to kill him, running from reality, and running from himself. But things begin to change when he meets Krista. Krista’s everything he’s ever wanted in a girl. She’s smart, beautiful, and she takes the word ‘strange’ to an entirely new level. Fearful of telling her the truth about himself, Ford soon discovers that Krista’s keeping some secrets of her own – secrets that could change everything. With the seekers closing in, Ford and Krista strike out to discover the truth about the past while carving out the future, and the trust they have in each other is the only thing that’s going to keep them alive.
WARNING: This book contains NO rotting flesh, missing body parts or squirming worms. It DOES contain a little romance and a lot of adventure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ralee Rowan
• Release date: May 2, 2013

Ralee Rowan

Ralee Rowan loves to write in just about any genre. When she's not writing, she and her husband are chasing after their five kids, numerous cats, and three dogs. When life drives her crazy, Ralee goes along for the ride.

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Blue Dust

Ralee Rowan

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012 Ralee Rowan

Discover other titles by Ralee Rowan at Smashwords.com

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Blue Dust

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.

Copyright © 2012 Ralee Rowan

Cover art by Rowan Graphics © 2012

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

For the Gang

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Get off, you jerk! Krista grabbed the back of his tee shirt and yanked, ripping the collar.

I paid thirty-five dollars for this shirt! He spun around and planted the palm of his hand square against her mouth.

Krista fell back into the row of bushes separating the sidewalk from the ice-cream shop. For a moment, she lay still, not sure if she wanted to cry or jump up and rip his face off. She decided she wasn’t going to let him have the last laugh. Pulling back her foot, she let loose, kicking him hard in just the right spot.

Bending over and gasping through the pain, Kyle Decker had a look on his face that told Krista she’d better watch her back for the rest of her life.

You’ll be sorry, you ugly bitch!

By this time, the new kid was on his feet and in Kyle’s face. No, Kylie, he mocked, you’ll be the sorry one if you come near either one of us ever again. I’m sure you know what Goths do to our enemies.

Gym class, Kerrich. The coach will have no problem turning his head when I pummel you into the ground. Kyle stared hard at Ford Kerrich before turning and limping away.

Ford glared at Krista. I really don’t need a girl to fight my battles.

Krista couldn’t believe it. Her lip was swollen and bleeding and he didn’t even appreciate it. Well it seems to have worked, she snapped. You’re still in one piece.

He looked at her, the glare slowly dissolving into a mere frown. Thanks, I guess. But you didn’t have to do that. I could’ve taken care of him on my own.

Krista wiped her bleeding mouth on the back of her hand. I’m sure you could have, but I owed him one, anyway. He stole my cell phone.

Ford frowned. Stay here, he said. I’ll be right back. He jogged into the ice cream shop and came back with a stack of napkins. Here. For your mouth. You’re bleeding all over the place.

Krista looked down at the front of her blouse. It was covered with bright red drops. Nice. I guess Kyle had the last laugh after all. This was my new shirt.

Ford laughed. Krista thought it odd that it took a bloody mess to make him smile.

Do you realize this is the first time I’ve ever seen your teeth? You should smile more often. It makes you look younger. Krista grabbed her backpack from the curb and started walking.

Hey, wait! Ford quickly matched her stride. You said he stole your cell phone. Did you ever get it back? Because if you didn’t, I have ways of taking care of things.

Stopping, Krista turned to Ford and put a hand on her hip. Yes, I got it back, but not before he’d loaded it up with nice family pictures, if you know what I mean. And besides, she added. I like to take care of things the legal way.

Ford grunted. Well, this wasn’t exactly legal. He was attacking me, not you, so technically speaking, you committed assault and battery.

Her eyes narrowed to evil little slits. Fine, Fordyce Kerrich. I’ll never again step up to help you, even if your eyes are being beaten shut!

Whirling around, Krista began to jog away, sorry she’d bothered to waste her time on the weirdo from her homeroom. She glanced over her shoulder. He was following her again. Will you stop following me! She was beginning to wonder who she was angrier with, Kyle or Ford.

I’m sorry. He ran to catch up. Can you please walk? My ribs hurt. Ford grabbed at the spot where Kyle had landed a half dozen jabs.

Krista slowed and they walked together. Where do you live? She was admittedly a little curious about this individual. He really hadn’t made any friends at school in the two months he’d been there, and with summer vacation coming around in a few weeks, she wondered how he planned to entertain himself.

Over behind the old Ridley cemetery. My grandma lives there. I’m staying with her for a while. She’s been sick and stuff and needs someone to look after her.

Yeah. Krista eyed him suspiciously. He didn’t exactly look like the care-taker type. His black, mangy-looking hair tumbled around his shoulders and certainly didn’t look sanitary. What’s wrong with her?

Ford paused. Well…nothing’s really wrong, exactly. She’s just getting old and forgets to take her medicine sometimes. She likes the company. Ford could see she didn’t believe him. It flashed in her big blue eyes like a neon sign.

Okay, Ford. If you don’t want to tell me the truth, then don’t. But remember, we’ve been to battle together.

Ford laughed.

That’s the second time I’ve seen your teeth. This is becoming a habit. There was something sad in his deep, brown eyes that made Krista want to befriend him. Why don’t you stop by my house on the way home? I live just up the street.

He stopped dead in his tracks. Why?

Krista frowned. Well, I don’t know. I just figured you’d want to meet my parents before we got married. She tried to keep a straight face, but it didn’t work. Kidding, of course. Actually, I need you as a witness to what happened. My parents have a tendency to think I’m lying when I come home with all of these weird stories, and I finally have proof. You don’t mind, do you?

Mind? Ford could barely believe his luck. He’d been spying glances at her for weeks and was convinced he had every golden blonde hair on the back of her head memorized. N-no, he stuttered. But, just how often do you get into these things?

Krista rolled her eyes. Often enough that my parents want to put a hidden camera on me. There it is, she said, nodding toward an enormous Victorian mansion gracing the corner of the street. It’s not much, but it’s home.

You’re kidding, right?

Krista grinned and led him up the front steps. Stay here for just a second. I have to check to see if someone’s home. It’s a rule of theirs that I can’t have anyone over unless at least one parent is home.

Ford shrugged. It makes sense, seeing as you’re always getting yourself into trouble.

Ha, ha. Krista smirked and let herself into the house. Less than twenty seconds later, she opened the door and waved him in. Dad’s home.

Halting to a stop, Ford peeked over and around her shoulder.

Come on Kerrich. He doesn’t even own a shotgun.

What Krista didn’t realize was that Ford had a thing about father figures. He never had one that he could actually remember and couldn’t relate, so they kind of made him nervous. As long as you think it’ll be okay. I know how dads can be when it comes to their daughters. I don’t want to get another dose of this. He pointed to his ribs.

Krista Sue! Bring your friend into the kitchen!

We’ve got fresh baked cookies, she said, grabbing him at the elbow. Dad’s specialty is Pillsbury chocolate chip.

Walking into the kitchen, Ford realized he was more than correct to worry about her dad. The man was huge. Ford estimated him to be at least six three. However, the apron and plate of cookies made him a little less menacing.

Hello! He extended his hand to Ford. I’m Krista’s dad. You can call me Joe, Mister McConnell, or Dad, whichever you prefer.

Ford’s hand nearly disappeared in his monster-sized palm. I-I’m Ford. You can call me Ford.

Krista tells me you two got in a fight on the way home.

Ford opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Krista nudged him. Either speak or fill it with a cookie. She grinned and grabbed the plate from her dad’s hand.

The fight. Yeah. Well, it wasn’t Krista’s fault. She actually didn’t have anything to do with it.

She frowned. What are you talking about? Of course I did. I started the whole thing, and if you get a phone call from Mister Decker complaining his son may never sire a child, that was my fault, too.

The strange glee she got from confessing to things she didn’t do confounded Ford. Apparently he’d been doing it wrong all of these years. Confess, and they just smile like they didn’t hear it. I already got the call, Krista dear, and I told him you’d be punished – by being forced to eat cookies.

You didn’t!

I did. But of course I didn’t add the last part until I hung up, but he seemed satisfied. So take your punishment and start eating.

Ford must have looked confused, because Krista laughed and pointed to the coat hooks on the wall. A state police jacket hung neatly on the last peg. Everyone seems to think they should call and complain about every single thing I say or do. I can’t even look at someone’s dog without a phone call. I think they’re all trying to keep me from going astray.

Her dad grabbed a potholder and pulled another sheet of cookies from the oven. It comes with the territory. Krista’s been teased and taunted from the time she was old enough to tell the other kids what I do for a living. But she tells me everything, and I trust her, and if she tells me she kicked Decker, I believe it.

But, isn’t that the same thing Mister Decker told you?

Mister McConnell winked. It’s what Mister Decker didn’t tell me that spoke louder than anything.

Ford liked this man. He might even be able to get comfortable around him.

Come on, Ford. I want to show you something.

He trailed after her, dropping cookie crumbs along the way. They meandered through a maze of rooms and stopped in front of a door painted the color of sunshine.

This is the basement. Don’t mind the ghosts, she teased.

Ford didn’t laugh at that one. I live by a cemetery, remember? Basements don’t scare me.

I hope you’re kidding. Krista flipped on the light and led him down the steps. And if you’re not, we’ll have to investigate one of these nights.

You’re crazy. That’s one thing you’ll never get me to do.

She flipped another switch at the bottom of the steps. We’ll see. Her eyes lit up. There it is!

And it was, in all its horrific glory. The old wooden casket was elevated on a crate at each end and the lid was up.

I really want to ask you why you have a coffin in your basement, but I’m not sure I want to know the answer. Ford inched up and peeked down in.

It came with the house – seriously. She noted the look of doubt on his face. We never got rid of it because it’s really cool, and it makes a great prop on Halloween. Besides, I’m afraid of death, and I’ve been administering self-help therapy by getting in every once in a while.

You’re really sick. Ford ran his finger along the moth-eaten felt lining. Why the sudden urge to show me something like this? He had a sinking feeling he knew just where this was going.

Krista looked a little dejected. Well, I just figured since you’re a Goth and all, that you’d like this sort of thing.

Ford tensed. Just because I’m a Goth, as you say, doesn’t mean I’m into stuff like this. You do realize that vampires aren’t real? He thought she was different, but now he wasn’t so sure. This is Maine. This is witch country, not vampires.

He watched as the friendly vapors disappeared into thin air. That was Massachusetts. Not Camden, Maine. But that’s fine, Ford. I was just trying to be friendly to the odd, little Goth who had no friends. Now I see why you sit by yourself at lunch. She crossed her arms and stared at him with those big eyes of hers.

Maybe I should go. My grandma’s probably looking for me, and it’s almost time for her medicine. Thanks for the cookies.

She didn’t even bother to lead him back up and out of the basement. On the way home, he went over and over the conversation in his head. Why did he have to put his foot in his mouth every single time he made a new friend? Especially this friend. He was hoping to stay in one spot for at least five years, and it would be nice to have someone to hang with.

Ford picked up a stick and ran it along the old wrought iron fence surrounding Ridley cemetery. Sorry if I woke you. Ford had a habit of talking to the tombstones. He was actually kind of fond of cemeteries – in the daylight and from the outside.

Grandma! I’m home! Ford opened the storm door and hurried inside before the nasty, little, black mosquitoes all invited themselves to lunch. Not that they would get anything, but that wouldn’t stop them from trying. Where are you? He grabbed a banana and went to search for his grandmother.

You’re a little late, Fordyce. His grandmother sat in her old, tattered chair braiding dried sage into long oil lamp wicks. She refused to burn a candle in the house as long as she had sage on hand. Ford didn’t particularly