After the Ending (21 page)

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Authors: Lindsey Fairleigh,Lindsey Pogue

Tags: #Romance, #Science Fiction, #Young Adult, #Thriller

BOOK: After the Ending
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He crooked his neck to see the wound. “Yeah, what’s wrong
with it?”

I took a step back, completely astonished. “Absolutely
nothing.”

The look on Jake’s face wasn’t one of curiosity or
concern—instead, he seemed unaffected by my words.

“It’s almost entirely healed,” I told him, hoping he’d
provide some insight into his apparent lack of surprise. “It’s barely been
three days.”

“I guess I’m a fast healer,” he offered casually, looking
around the room.

“But I saw the blood. You were in so much pain you could
barely move.” I replayed the gunfight in my head, remembering how his features
had twisted in agony.
He’s hiding something.

I studied him carefully. “You don’t seem surprised. Has
this happened before?”

He smirked. “This is my first time being shot.”

“That’s not what I meant. Do you always heal this fast?”
Go
ahead, lie to me.

He looked into my eyes but said nothing. His silence was
all I needed to confirm my suspicion that he was more than he seemed to be.

Checking the unscathed flesh where his wound should have
been, I tried another tactic. “Why do you keep pushing me away?” Frustration
had enabled me to blurt out the question that had been nagging at me.

Jake stared at me, his eyes narrowing and his thumbs
tapping the padded table.

“Jake,” Sanchez said, hurrying through the swinging
emergency room doors with a grin. “We found some more fuel in one of the
warehouses, but we’re having a hard time getting to it. Can you help?” Looking
around the emergency room, she asked, “Where’s Harper?”

“Checking on Summer. She’s not doing well,” I told her.

Sanchez considered the information for a moment, but her
eyes soon brightened with enthusiasm. “Come on,” she said to Jake before
heading back down the hall.

Jake glanced at me, reaching for his shirt. “We done
here?”

“Hold on, I need to take out the stitches,” I said as I
leaned closer.

“Just leave them,” he snapped.

“Well at least let me put some gauze over them until
Harper can take them out,” I said, frustrated. “They’ll catch on your shirt and
tear out. It’ll take, like, five seconds.”

Jake blocked my hand, and even through the thin gloves,
the heat of his touch electrified my skin. “I’m fine,” he responded flatly.

The morning light shining through the high windows washed
over Jake’s face only inches from mine, and for the first time, I stared into
his eyes. His irises weren’t simply brown like I’d thought, but they were amber
with pale golden flakes around the pupil and were ringed with ebony. They held
secrets. Suddenly, his emotions invaded my mind. He yearned for something, and
his anger and apprehension roared through me. I saw the girl again. She was
looking up at him with nearly violet eyes, and her tears were mixing with blood
as they streamed down her cheeks. She took a final, uneven breath.

Like he could tell I’d seen too much, Jake pulled his
hand away and yanked his shirt on.

“Thanks, but I’m fine,” he repeated roughly before
retreating down the hall. Cooper trailed only slightly behind him.

25

Dani

 

 

I hadn’t thought it was possible, but I was even more sore
when I woke from my daylight slumber. I emerged from the tent in the late
afternoon, my joints creaking like I was the tin man in need of oil. And my
muscles,
oh my muscles
…they seemed to have calcified and merged with my
bones.

Just one more night,
I reminded myself. My plan to
travel during the dark hours each day had proven ingenious so far; I’d been
able to avoid my abandoned group—if they were even looking for me—and Crazies
alike.

As I puttered around the campsite, my head throbbed with
an emotional hangover from the previous day’s overwhelming doses of loneliness
and despair. I felt numb, mentally sluggish, and a little sick. Not that it
mattered—I had things to do.

To appease my dream stalker, I refrained from speaking
aloud to my animal companions. I almost broke the rule when it was time to
leave.

Where’s Jack? He
was just here.

In the fading light, I searched the periphery of the
campground, crunching pine cones and needles loudly as I moved from site to
site. What little heat the December sun had provided during the day was
dissipating quickly, and eerie shadows were being cast between the towering
redwoods. I desperately wanted to get moving before the chill settled deeper
into my body and stole what little mobility I had left.

Just as I opened my mouth to quietly call for him, Jack
trotted out of some nearby bushes with a wagging tail. He barked merrily.

I glared at him.
And
where have you been?

He lay down before me, rolling over to offer his neck in
submission.

Awareness dawned on me like the rays of the rising sun.
It was so simple—so obvious. I
had
been experiencing the symptoms of one
of MG’s “Abilities” over the past few weeks, I’d just assigned the effects to
the wrong being:
it’s not that Jack’s the smartest dog in the world…it’s
that I’m in his head.

Without moving a muscle, I stared at the groveling dog
and projected the thought, “
Stand up, Jack.”

He stood, watching me expectantly.

“Go over to Wings.”

Jack immediately pranced over to the horse a dozen paces
away.

“Both of you, come
here.”

Like well-rehearsed actors, Jack and Wings closed the
distance between us until we stood in a cluster at the center of the
campground.

I can talk to animals…in their minds. Holy crap!
Thoughts raced around my head, making me dizzy, and I dropped to my knees on
the cold ground. I just sat there, looking at nothing.

Jack sniffed my face and whined. “
Mother? Okay? Hurt?”

I stared at him in shock, knowing with certainty that the
deep, rough voice in my head had come from my dog.
It’s not just one-way.
How’d I miss this?

The cynical part of me whispered silently,
Because I wanted to. Because I was afraid.
Because I didn’t want to be a Crazy.
Belatedly, I thought,
This is the coolest thing ever!

“No, Sweet Boy,” I said both out loud and in Jack’s mind.
“I’m fine. You’re such a good boy.” I scratched his neck for a few more seconds
before standing and turning my attention to Wings. “I suppose you don’t really
need this, do you?” I asked, tugging gently on her bridle. If we could talk in
each other’s minds, I figured we could manage traveling without Wings having
several chunks of metal jammed into her mouth.


No. Remove please.”
Her voice was as rich and
sweet as vanilla custard.

Neither Jack nor Wings actually spoke in words. Rather,
it was like I could instinctively decipher the meaning of their projected
thoughts, and my brain seemed to translate them into something recognizable. It
was the same as listening to someone speak a foreign language for the first
time and just
knowing
what they were saying. I wasn’t sure how it
worked, or why…only that it did.

Obliging Wings, I freed her of the tangle of leather and
metal and tossed the entire contraption into some nearby ferns. It took me
longer than usual because my hands were shaking with adrenaline. Feeling
suddenly awkward about forcing her to carry me, I pointed to her back and
asked, “May I?”

She consented with a snort.

As we made our way out of the campground, questions
bounced around my mind like ping pong balls.
Am I delusional? Is this real?
How can it be?
I let Wings and Jack navigate the highway while I tried to
do the same with my thoughts.

 

 

A few hours after midnight, we passed the scattered houses
on the outskirts of town. Finally, after ten days of painfully slow
travel—first by car with the others, then by horse on my own—I had arrived in
Bodega Bay. I was home.

During the long hours of the night, I’d managed to
wrestle with uncertainty, eventually accepting reality. My Ability was real. I
could talk to animals, and they could talk to me. I had also come up with a
plan—there were a few places I needed to visit first, but I knew exactly where
we’d hunker down.

Riding through the abandoned streets of my neighborhood,
I felt like a stranger in my own town. It was as though my home had transformed
into an Old West ghost town. I half expected to hear rusty signs squeaking and
to see a tumbleweed bouncing across the worn pavement. As far as I could tell,
I was completely alone.
Maybe this was a bad idea.

Where once they had been familiar and welcoming, the
grassy hills to the west now seemed foreboding—anything could’ve been hiding
behind their gentle slopes. Even the waves crashing against the jagged rocks sounded
malevolent, like they were purposely masking any audible warnings of danger.

Apprehension built inside me as we closed in on Grams’s
house. I hadn’t seen a single living person since leaving Fort Bragg, but I was
desperately hoping to find one in there.

Dismounting in the driveway, I asked Wings to stay hidden
in the nearby trees. I’d expected to feel relief when I finally approached my
childhood home. Instead, the steel-gray color of the siding had gone from
soothing to dreary, and the various nooks and crannies surrounding the
sprawling split-level house provided numerous hiding places for potential
threats. My knees trembled as I slowly ascended the front steps.

Jack followed me, his tail drooping.

What if she’s like Aunt Janet?
I thought, standing
on the porch and staring at the familiar, coral-white front door. Or
what if
she’s a Crazy?

“If Grams is here, we have to find her,” I told Jack. He
sat down obediently and waited for me to open the door.

Fear caused my hand to shake as I grasped the doorknob
and thought,
Please be locked
. The handle caught when I twisted it, like
it was trying to deny me entrance, but then the latch clicked, and the door
slowly swung open. Jack pushed into the house in front of me while I stood on
the welcome mat and held my breath. Taming my wild emotions, I exhaled and
gingerly breathed in through my nose.

There was only the smell of home—a combination of
cinnamon, chamomile, wax, and pine that filled the house year-round from
Grams’s compulsive cleaning and candle-making habits. It was the most glorious
thing I’d ever smelled, and not for nostalgia’s sake. Grams
wasn’t
rotting in her own home; there was still hope.

“Grams!” I called out, stepping tentatively into the dark
house and shutting the door. I flipped the entryway light switch, but nothing
happened. “Are you here? Grams?” I roamed around the familiar cluster of rooms,
hallways, and stairs, only tripping over an out-of-place ottoman and a pair of
galoshes in the inky darkness. “Grams?”

I opened her downstairs bedroom door, hoping to find her
asleep in her bed, but my hope proved useless.
She’s not here.
I sat
heavily on the end of her quilt-covered mattress. “Where are you, Grams?” I
whispered into the darkness.

Feeling myself coming unhinged, I reined in my emotions
and hurried out of the room. Jack joined me as I reached the front door, and
together we went back outside.
I’ll find her
, I promised myself and
headed down the street toward Zoe’s house.

An hour later, I’d finished searching the equally
deserted home—like Grams, Zoe’s dad was ominously absent. Defeated and
disheartened, I guided Jack and Wings across town to the ranch where I’d worked
during high school. Not a street light glowed along my path. Not a ray of light
shone through a window.
Is anyone even alive?

Even though it was still dark when we arrived at Bodega
Bay Riders’ Ranch, the surroundings instantly comforted me. It was the only
familiar place I could come up with that Jason might not think to check…
if
he even searches for me at all.

As I dismounted and sent Wings out to pasture, I couldn’t
help but dwell on Jason—the man I had to avoid in order to protect. He, along
with the rest of the group, would be arriving in Bodega Bay in the morning. He
would be in the same abandoned town as me, and I didn’t know if I had the
strength to resist going to him.

To keep him alive,
I can.

26

Zoe

 

 

I‘d been up all night in the hospital, doing everything I
could to help Harper make Summer’s final hours as pain-free as possible. She
rambled incoherently, and her vomiting and convulsions had increased. By
nightfall her body was bloated and shivering, and she was delusional. Harper
couldn’t let her suffer any longer.

“Tanya,” he said grimly. “Her kidneys and liver aren’t
functioning…it’s only a matter of time.”

Tanya sat beside Summer’s hospital bed, clutching her
sister’s hand. Her puffy eyes stayed locked on her sister’s trembling body as
she slowly shook her head in defeat. Though Summer’s waning skin color and
weakening body were obvious, Tanya refused to let her go.
Summer’s all she
has left.
I wished I could do something, anything, to help the sobbing
woman. I imagined myself in a similar situation with Dani, and something in my
chest clenched.

Unable to watch the miserable scene any longer, I excused
myself and left the room. As I walked away, I heard Harper say, “I’m sorry, but
there’s nothing we can do for her now. I know this is difficult, but we have no
choice—we need to sedate her. She’s suffering, and I can’t allow it to go on.”

Tanya’s only audible response was to cry harder. I was
grateful Tanya had Clara to comfort her. They’d been through hell over the last
few weeks, but at least they had each other. I tried not to imagine something
terrible happening to my brother or Dani, the only two people
I
had left
in the world.

After giving Summer enough Morphine to put her in a deep,
painless sleep, Harper joined me at the emergency room’s central nurses’
station. I was cleaning up the disarray left behind by the tornado of Summer’s
decline. Not wanting to disturb the women in the nearby trauma room, Harper
spoke softly. “It’s arsenic poisoning. I’m almost certain.”

My head shot up in disbelief, and I stared at him.
“Arsenic?”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense, and as soon as I
finish the
bloodwork
, I’ll know for sure.”

“But how? Accidentally?”
She wouldn’t have done it to herself, would she?
I thought about
the images I’d seen in Jones’s mind of the naked woman crying.
Was she handling things so badly that she’d
want to end her life?

“Not likely.
Someone
had to have done this to
her,” Harper said adamantly.

I immediately knew who. “Jones,” I whispered.

Harper studied me, his eyes narrowed. “That’s my guess.”

“He said things, and I saw—” I hesitated. “I know what he
was capable of. It was either him or Taylor.”

Harper exhaled heavily. “Do I even want to know?”

Holding his eyes, I shook my head. “I think you should
pull them all aside—Stacey, Tanya, and Clara, I mean—and see if they want to
talk about what happened to them here. I’m sure I saw only a sliver of the
monstrous things Jones did.” My mind rewound to the woods, to the feeling of
Taylor’s foul hands assaulting my trembling body, but I shoved the memory away.

Having been a horrible chemistry student, I was pleased
with myself when I recalled some facts about the poisonous compound. “Isn’t
arsenic in cigarettes and rat poison? Maybe she just…”

Entertained by my naiveté, Harper gave me a small smile.
“True, it’s a lot of places. But what we come in contact with on a daily basis
is either organic or in such small quantities that it doesn’t hurt us. What
Summer’s been subjected to is inorganic, which makes it extremely dangerous.”
He paused for a moment, thinking. “Arsenic’s been used in chemical warfare
throughout history…it’s possible there’s some here on base.” He ran splayed
fingers through his short, dark hair, exhausted and defeated. I could feel
guilt weighing him down, clouding his rationality.

I reached out and gently squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t
blame yourself, H. There’s nothing you could’ve done. You said so yourself.” My
attempt at a reassuring touch was ineffective—regret was pouring out of him.
“You need to get some rest,” I told him.

“I should’ve picked up on the symptoms sooner.” Suddenly,
Harper’s guilt-ridden eyes brightened. “I think I saw arsenic in the armory
yesterday.”

Hearing soft footsteps, Harper and I turned to see Clara
standing in the doorway to the trauma room. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her
face was swollen and blotchy. After an uncomfortable silence, she breathed,
“Summer’s gone.”

Harper hurried into the room to check Summer’s pulse. She
was
gone.

As everyone said their final goodbyes, relief filled the
air, mixing with the suffocating sadness. I left the hospital, suddenly
drowning in morbid thoughts of Dani and what horrible things might have
happened to her. I hadn’t heard from her since she’d gone off on her own, and I
knew Jones and Taylor weren’t the only sickos stalking around out there. But
thinking of Dani triggered my protective instincts, and they quickly
overpowered my grim thoughts.
I should make sure Tanya’s okay.

After finding everything necessary for tea in the kitchen
and dampening a washcloth with warm water, I headed to Tanya’s room. I felt
like a stranger as I tapped on her door, wondering if I’d be intruding. When I
heard her timid voice call for me to come in, I entered. Tanya and Stacey sat
on the bed and stared at me with drawn faces. Their grief was thick and
palpable; I could feel the intensity of their emotions like they were my own.
Sitting in a chair beside the bed, Clara appeared far more composed.

Tanya wiped her red-rimmed eyes and sat up from her
curled position on top of the comforter. “Hi,” she said raggedly, gathering her
unkempt, mousey-brown hair into a ponytail.

Smiling sympathetically, I walked over to the bedside
table and set down the tray. “I brought some tea and a wet washcloth…if you
want it.”

“Thank you,” Tanya whispered. She picked up the damp
cloth and placed it against her forehead.

“I’ll go see what there is to eat,” Stacey said as she
left the room.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” I asked
Tanya, hoping to make myself somewhat useful on such a depressing day.

“No, I’m fine. Thanks,” Tanya said, motioning for me to
join her on the bed. “So much has been going on the last few days…I feel like I
barely know you.”

I appeased her by sitting down. Though I felt
uncomfortable being the center of attention, Tanya seemed eager for the
distraction. “What would you like to know?”

“I know Sanchez and her team met up with you in Ohio. Is
that where you’re from?”

It took me a brief moment to recall everything that had
happened over the last few weeks. “No. Actually, I’m from California, but I was
living in Massachusetts when all…
this
happened,” I said, gesturing around
the room.

Tanya’s face lit up. “Really? I’ve always wanted to go to
California. I grew up in Michigan where I met and married my husband,
Steven…the Virus got him early on. He was transferred here right after we
married. I’ve never been anywhere else.” Her reminiscent tone became distant.
“Summer was visiting me for Christmas from Texas. That’s where she was going to
school. She never settled down…said she never wanted to.” She looked down at
her hands.

“I’m sure she was glad to be here with you. I know I’d be
glad to be with my family if I could.” I frowned as I thought of my father.
Is
he alone?
Is he dying? Is he already gone?

Tanya nodded and shifted, pulling the blankets up around
her. After a while, she dozed off. She was small like Dani, and her petite
frame almost disappeared under the thickness of the blankets.

In the silence, I examined her room, noting how similar
it was to my own. She had a few books strewn on her bedside table and a pile of
tissues on the floor close by. Clothes were heaped in the corner, and unlike my
quarters, the walls were bare—there was nothing to distract from the sorrow
filling the room.

Afraid of waking Tanya, I slowly started to rise but
froze when Clara said, “You’re very beautiful.” Her words were an observation
more than a compliment—almost an accusation—and her piercing blue eyes seemed
to burrow into my soul.

I hesitated. “Um…thanks.”

Suddenly, her expression softened. “Sorry, that sounded
less weird in my head.” Her smile was demure and innocent.
Maybe she’s
bipolar…

“It’s a nice compliment. Thank you. I definitely haven’t
felt very pretty lately.” I pointed to my healing face.

“You look much better,” she said, her unblinking stare
still locked on me.

Awkward
.

Tanya tossed fitfully, thankfully interrupting the
uncomfortable moment. “Have you known Tanya for long?” I asked.

Clara shook her head and moved to close the mini blinds,
shutting out the sun. “Jake and I arrived a week before you did.
” Ah, yes.
The inescapable Jake
. “I’ve gotten to know the others well enough since
then.”

As Clara watched Tanya sleep, I felt the seriousness of
her emotions. I could sense her gratitude and suspicion, although I didn’t
understand what was causing them.

“How long have you known Jake?” I wondered aloud.

Her eyes shot over to me, scrutinizing my face. “A
while.” Smiling shyly, she added, “We have quite the past, actually.”

“Then maybe you can tell me what his deal is.”

“His ‘deal’?” Her pale eyebrows raised in question.

I threw my hands up. “Why he dislikes me so much.”

Clara’s nose wrinkled with displeasure, and she looked
briefly menacing before moving to fold some loose blankets that had been piled
on the floor. “I’m not sure. He’s never really explained it to me, and I try
not to pry.” She looked at me like I was a problem she had to fix.
Warning
duly noted. 

“Got it.” I had the sudden urge to get as far away from
her as possible. “I’m going to check on Harper. Please let me know if Tanya
needs anything,” I grumbled, leaving Tanya in Clara’s care.

I headed down the hall to Harper’s room. His door was
shut, and I hoped he was getting some rest, so I made my way toward the mess
hall instead. At finding Sarah and Biggs locked in an embrace, moaning and
groping, I made a quick exit. I did
not
want to watch them making out on
a cafeteria table.
No thanks.

I wanted to sketch and needed some fresh air to collect
my thoughts. After stopping by my room to pick up my messenger bag of drawing
supplies, I burst through the main doors out into the sunshine. The air was
chilly, but my hair was pulled back into a ponytail, allowing the sun to kiss
my face and the back of my neck, warming my skin. I squinted, basking in the
rays. The old me would have grabbed some sunblock to prevent more freckles from
dressing my cheeks, but the new me quickly dismissed such trivialities.

As I wandered beyond the yard surrounding the barracks, I
stepped off the sidewalk toward a cluster of trees. I spotted a small pond with
a few pine trees scattered around it, creating the perfect oasis for me to
think.

Except…
Jake sat under one of the evergreens,
absentmindedly carving something on a stick. I wasn’t in the mood to argue with
him, but Cooper’s head rose at the sound of a twig breaking beneath my shoe.

Jake looked up before I could sneak away. “Is everything
okay?”

I brushed away the suggestion of concern, knowing the
question had probably been asked out of politeness. “Yeah, just getting some
fresh air.”

Standing a few yards from him, I debated what to do. My
words came out before I could stop them. “What’s your problem with me?” I
asked, sounding more pathetic than I’d intended. “It’d be nice to know what I
did to make you so grumpy.”

Frowning, Jake stood. I’d never seen someone look so
frustrated for no apparent reason.

When he said nothing, I continued, “I barely know you,
but you’re always irritated around me. Like I’ve offended you or something.”

“It’s not personal,” he said, like that was all the
explanation I needed. He was just like my stupid brother, detached and in
control all the time.

My curiosity melted away, and irritation solidified in
its place. “Right,” I said. “So I should just ignore your bad attitude whenever
I’m around you? Try not to let it affect me?”

He ignored my sarcasm. “I’m leaving soon, so it won’t be
a problem,” he said, turning away dismissively.

I threw my hands in the air. “Oh, great! Well, as long as
you won’t be around for long, I
think
I can manage.” His calm, collected
arrogance was infuriating.

I turned to leave, needing to get away from him before I
embarrassed myself with an unflattering outburst. I started to walk away,
vowing I’d never bother him again, but hesitated. “Do you have any idea what it
feels like to know someone saved your life, then wonder if they wished they
hadn’t?” Keeping my back to him, I continued quietly, “It feels like shit.” I
hadn’t realized the truth in those words until I’d spoken them out loud. “Merry
Christmas,” I mumbled bitterly, wondering how much worse the coming year would
be.

As I walked away, I heard Jake mutter, “Dammit.”

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