After the Ending (23 page)

More voices and footsteps thumped onto the deck. Slowly,
I found a sparse spot in my herbaceous shield and watched a nightmare play out.

Cece stood feet away from Jason, pointing at him. “You
all heard him! He’s hearing voices. He’s a crazy freak just like everyone else
we find. We can’t keep following someone who isn’t even sane.”

What are you doing
in my house, bitch?

With a haughty sneer, Cece turned away to face the
handful of men gathered behind her on the deck—her harem. “We need a new
leader. Someone who won’t make us stay in some little shit-stained town just to
look for one whiny little bitch.”

What the hell is she
doing? She’s insane!

Everyone but Chris and Jason nodded in agreement.

Where are the
others? Where’s Ky? Where’s Hunter?

“Good,” Cece said smugly. “Now we just need to dispose of
you.” Turning back to Jason and Chris, she drew her sidearm and trained it on
Zoe’s brother. Her followers did the same, half aiming at Chris and half at
Jason. Both of my friends stood as motionless as statues.

This can’t be
happening!

“I tried to give you a chance to see things my way. I
even got rid of that little—”

“Fuck off you psycho bitch.” Jason’s hands clenched into
tight fists and he snarled, “I never should’ve touched your skanky ass. I will
kill
you
for what you did.”

Cece stuck out her lower lip in a mocking pout and tapped
the barrel of her gun lightly against her mouth. “You were so
unreasonable—taking her side on everything. At least I didn’t do anything
permanent. Not like what’s about to happen to you.” She smiled wickedly, again
aiming her weapon in his direction. “You really should’ve been more
supportive…more understanding. You had a chance after she left, but you missed
it.”

“You’re fucking insane.” Jason stated.

Cece shrugged, dismissing his opinion with that single
gesture. In a few steps, she was inches from him. She pressed the muzzle of her
weapon into his abdomen and stood on tiptoes to whisper in his ear, pausing to
kiss his neck softly. As she spoke, his fists clenched and unclenched. From my
vantage point, Jason seemed to be expending a herculean amount of restraint to
remain still.

Before she finished talking, her hands still groping him
like a lover, Jason made his move. His body blocked my view of his sudden
strike, but I could still hear. With a sickening snap, Cece’s gun clattered
onto the weathered wood. It took Jason less than a second to spin Cece around
and maneuver her into a choke hold, clutching the side of her head while she
whimpered. Even with several handguns trained on him, Jason had gained the
momentary upper hand.

“Lower your weapons, or I’ll break more than her wrist,”
he warned.

Distracted by Jason’s deadly grace, I hadn’t noticed
Chris draw what appeared to be a sawed-off shotgun. She had it aimed at John’s
chest.

“If you…kill me…they’ll kill you,” Cece gasped between
shallow breaths and pathetic whimpers.

“Worth it,” Jason stated coldly, and I knew he wore a
sadistic grin.

NO! This can’t be happening!
The situation was
spiraling out of control. There were few remaining options that included my
friends’ survival. Utter desperation filled me.
Dammit, I can’t lose them! I
can’t lose
him
!

Of its own accord, a plan formed in my mind. I focused
all of my mental energy on Cece. “
Miss me, bitch?”

Her whimpers suddenly ceased. I hoped it was because
she’d heard my voice in her head and not because Jason was following through on
his threat. I couldn’t let him do it. I refused to watch him die.

Wasting no time, I continued my assault on Cece’s mind,
“He’ll do it, you know. And then what’ll you
have? Nothing. You’ll be dead. You won’t even be avenged. Your little followers
won’t get a shot off—I’ll see to that. Think about it, Cece. If I can talk in
your head, what else can I do?”

Cece sobbed, “No…can’t be…it’s not possible…” Her words
echoed in my mind.

A massive headache was forming in my skull, and my body
was beginning to shake from a sudden chill. It was difficult to keep my voice
from sounding strained in her head. “
Oh, it is you psycho bitch. I’m in your
head…should I stay and play around?”
I attempted to make my tone even
colder as I thought, “
Call them off, and get the hell out of here.”

I couldn’t hear her response through the sudden whooshing
in my ears. It felt like there was too much blood saturating my brain, making
my head throb with an explosive intensity. I tried to see how the scene played
out, but my vision was narrowing, dimming. I put all of my effort into watching
and listening, but it wasn’t enough. Leaden, my eyelids shut, and my head
slumped to the ground.

Jack’s warm body huddled against me as my world faded out
of existence.

Zoe

The morning was gloomy. The weather had progressively
worsened, and I wasn’t excited about training under the looming, possibly
rain-filled clouds that churned in the angry sky.

In the warmth of my sleeping quarters I readied myself
for a day of flailing and falling. I layered myself in some of the training
attire I’d acquired from the one-stop shop on base—the “PX” according to
Harper. With the exception of my brown tank top and combat boots, the
army-green, long-sleeved shirt, cargo pants, and socks all labeled with FORT
KNOX made me look like a walking billboard for the base. My goal: to keep my
arms warm, my legs shielded from the scrapes that would come with every scuffle
and fall, and to protect my feet from the heel stomping and ankle twisting I
would undoubtedly endure. Based on experience, I knew my agility was lacking,
but I dressed optimistically. I also knew that the bulkier my clothes were, the
more difficultly I’d have bobbing and ducking…and running away.

Hoping to minimize the amount of tearing and knotting my
long hair would sustain, I weaved it into a thick braid. With my black tresses
pulled away from my face, it was easier to see the faint yellow remnants of the
bruise on my cheekbone.

However, taking in my overall appearance, I was
pleasantly surprised. I looked pretty badass—
looked
being the operative
word. I relished the idea of venting some of my irritation. I was still stewing
over what had happened with Jake. His matter-of-fact tone pissed me off, and
his inscrutable attitude was getting old. Self-defense lessons would start
after breakfast, and unfortunately for Harper, as my trainer and partner, he’d
be receiving the brunt of my pent-up aggression.

Walking into the mess hall, I found Harper sitting at a
long table with Sarah, Biggs, Clara, and Jake. The last thing I wanted was to
sit next to Jake while he exuded the mysteriousness that annoyed me so much.

Outwardly unfazed by his presence, I passed him on my way
to the stainless steel tubs filled with mounds of steaming food. With a smile,
I filled my plate with hash browns, bacon, and scrambled eggs, and wondered who
was to thank for such a glorious meal.

I heard chattering and laughter bubbling up from the
tables behind me, and it instantly brightened my mood. The sounds filled the
large dining room with vibrancy and comfort.

“Hey Croft, you mind grabbing me some OJ while you’re
up?” Harper called out.

Assuming he was talking to me, I peered back at him.
“Croft?”

“Yeah, you know, Lara Croft—tomb raider, relic hunter…?
You look like her today.”

“She’s hot,” Biggs said uncharacteristically, and I
couldn’t help but laugh.

“She’s a video game character,” Sarah said
disapprovingly. “She’s not
hot
.”

“She kicks ass. That’s totally hot,” Biggs reiterated.

Jake chuckled. “Yeah, she’s pretty hot.”

Distracted by Jake’s comment, I filled a cup until orange
juice spilled over the rim. “Shit,” I spat. Wiping my hand on my pants, I
headed to the table. Biggs scooted over to make room for me.

“Thanks,” Harper nodded and winked as I handed him the
sticky cup. His charm and playfulness sometimes made me forget he was a medic.
I’d always imagined doctors as old and stuffy. Harper was definitely neither.

I took a sip from my own cup of orange juice and nodded.
“Sure thing.”

Avoiding Jake’s penetrating stare was impossible. He sat
directly across from me, his attentive eyes alternating between Harper and me.
Guilt poured off of him every time our eyes met, but his closed-off expression
remained.

 As I slowly ate my breakfast, I lost myself in
thought. I couldn’t help wondering what Jake had done before the Virus.
Why
do I care? Stop thinking about it.
But even as I told myself I shouldn’t
care, I knew I did. The simple fact that he
wouldn’t
talk to me made me
all the more curious.

Jake was tall and strong—someone my dad would’ve called a
“strapping young man”. With his military-style clothing and close-cropped hair,
he could easily be mistaken for a member of the armed forces. I just couldn’t
picture him taking orders from anyone. Given his rugged appearance and macho build,
he could’ve been a lumberjack. However, I couldn’t picture
that
without
the idea of him stripping off his clothes while gyrating to techno music. That
made me smile, just a little.

“What are you
grinnin
’ about?”
Harper whispered near my ear. The warmth of his breath sent pleasant chills
rippling through me.

“Nothing,” I lied, shoving a fork full of hash browns
into my mouth.

“You ready for your lessons today?” He wiggled his thick
eyebrows up and down. I laughed, realizing Harper’s eyebrows were a character
themselves—he wouldn’t be the same without them.

I was relieved to see Harper’s playful banter had
returned. Summer’s death had been difficult for him. I could still feel his
remorse, just as I’d been feeling everyone else’s—it was impossible to ignore.

“I think so. Although…you seem a little
too
excited about it.” I smirked. “I’m starting to wonder if I should be nervous.”
I eyed him carefully, waiting for a muscle twitch or an averted gaze to give
him away.

“I’ll look out for you.” His promise was compromised by a
mischievous grin.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“What, you don’t trust me?” he scoffed. “I’m always
looking out for the best interest of—”

“Yourself,” I interrupted, and he laughed.

I glanced at Clara as she stood. She was watching me
intently. When she noticed me looking at her, she flashed a bright smile and
glided away. The pale purple of her yoga pants triggered my memory, and nearly
violet eyes flashed in my mind. Recalling the look on the mysterious, dying
woman’s face and the feeling of Jake’s misery, I suddenly felt nauseous.

I looked up and found Jake staring at me.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “You look sick.”

I had to blink to clear the image from my mind. “Yeah,
I’m fine,” was all I could think to say.

“Alright, Baby Girl,” Harper said as he stood. “Let’s go.
Time to get to work.” He looked over at Jake. “You coming?”

I glanced back and forth between Harper and Jake. “Excuse
me?”
Please tell me Jake isn’t gonna be a part of this.

Jake studied me with unreadable eyes before walking away
in silence.

Frantically, I followed Harper as he marched down the
hall. “I thought I was training with
you
, H?”

He shook his head. “No, Jake’s your sparring partner.”
His casualness was maddening.
Great. This is gonna be torture
.

Walking outside, Harper surveyed the ground and bent down
to pick up a few branches and sticks…though I didn’t know why he needed them.
“You don’t like Jake, huh?” He examined a few large twigs before approaching
me, seeming a little too entertained by my discomfort.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m
trying
to like him, but
he’s sort of a dick. He’s making it nearly impossible to get to know him…or
even talk to him. He won’t even let me thank him properly for…you know.” I
dropped my hands to my sides, realizing I’d been gesturing around wildly.

Harper shrugged which only increased my annoyance. “You
don’t know Sanchez all that well either. Some people are just more private than
others.”

Why is he defending him so much?
Not wanting to
admit it was true, I remained silent.

“Give him a break. Besides, he’s leaving as soon as his
wounds heal. And to answer your question, I
am
teaching you, but Sanchez
brought up a good point—you need to be able to defend yourself against anyone,
Zoe.” His eyebrows shot up in acknowledgement. “Hey Jake, perfect timing. Grab
a stick.”

I turned to find Jake standing behind me with his arms
crossed. I needed to tell Harper that Jake was already healed. Instead, I was
distracted by Jake’s inscrutable expression; he looked neither eager nor
opposed to being there.

Harper cleared his throat then explained, “I want Zoe to
learn how to use things around her as weapons at any given moment. She won’t
always have a gun or a knife, or…us.” He walked over to me, presenting a twig,
a stick, and a small branch. “Pick the one you want to start with. We’ll switch
it up as we go.”

What does he want me to do, build a fire?
I
shrugged and grabbed a gnarly, foot-long stick.

After an hour of step-by-step training with Harper, I
knew how to effectively knee, kick, elbow, and head-butt my way out of an
assailant’s hold, in theory anyway. The stick, which was supposed to be
functioning as my weapon, ended up causing
me
more bodily harm than
Harper. Then, he pulled Jake away from sparring with Sanchez.

“Now, let’s see how well you can put everything
together,” Harper said, grinning. “Show me what you’d do in scenario one, Baby
Girl. Jake’s twice as big as you and five times as strong.”

“Oh come on, I’m not
that
pathetic,” I retorted.
 

Harper ignored me and continued, “What are you gonna do
if he has his arms wrapped around you from behind?”

It was difficult to stay focused as Jake’s observant eyes
watched me, waiting, but imagining the pleasure I’d feel at taking out my
aggression on him—one scratch, stomp, and jab at a time—was enough to inspire
my determination to learn. I stood with my back to him, anxiously waiting for
his arms to wrap around me. I desperately hoped my body would have zero
response.

Distracted by Cooper barking as he played with Sanchez a
few yards away, I spun around. Just as I did, Jake’s arms wrapped around me.
His scruffy cheek rubbed against mine, tickling my skin and exciting me against
my will. His breath was warm on my neck, and an earthy scent wafted off him,
diverting my attention from what I was supposed to be doing.
Wait, what…
the
pressure of his solid arms wrapped tightly around me was distracting.

“You’re not even trying, Zoe,” Harper said, snapping me
out of my unwanted, lusty haze.

“
Agh
!” I finally started to
struggle. Jake’s hold was unyielding as I wriggled around. After only a few
seconds had passed, I was already winded.
This is embarrassing.

I took a deep, conscious breath.
Situation one…a man
comes up from behind me. I’m supposed to…
Using my thigh muscles, I leaned forward
and immediately sprung backward as hard and fast as I could. With the force of
my body movement, I knocked Jake off balance and tried to hit his face with the
back of my head.

My efforts were fruitless. He tilted his head to the
side, and the back of my head missed his face, nearly giving me whiplash as it
ricocheted off the top of his shoulder. “Shit,” I hissed, trying to ignore the
sharp pain in the back of my neck.

Unsure what to do next, I leaned forward, lifted my legs
off the ground, and let my body weight hang limply in his grasp. He stumbled
forward, no doubt surprised by my unconventional methods. His head bent down
toward me, and I quickly planted my feet back on the ground. As he tried to
regain his footing, I head-butted him in the nose.

“Son of a bitch!” he rasped, but his hold tightened—I
still couldn’t wriggle away. As I continued to struggle, I heard snickering and
stopped. Harper and Sanchez were laughing hysterically as they watched us.

“What do you call that? You look like a monkey,” Harper
said as he continued laughing, and I realized I must have resembled a cat
struggling to escape the suffocating arms of its owner.

Jake let go, and I crumpled to the ground with a thud. I
was glad to be away from the distracting sensations I felt in his arms, but the
sharp pain that shot through my knee upon impact was an unwanted replacement.
Catching my breath, I stood up.

“Nice head-butt. It would’ve been more effective if your
hair wasn’t padding the contact,” Jake told me. Although I knew he was right, I
resented his smart-ass tone.

“That was definitely…one way to do it,” Harper agreed.
“But you didn’t get very far, Baby Girl. Try it again; only this time, let’s
practice using the second scenario.” Harper took a step back, clapping his
hands in an effort to keep me motivated, and Jake immediately seized me from
the front. Winded, I quickly tried to collect myself, but with his arms wrapped
around me, his scent assaulted me and derailed my concentration yet again.

As I struggled, my hair stuck to the stubble of his face
like Velcro. I must’ve looked utterly ridiculous with his arms around me and my
face buried in his neck.

Suddenly, my curiosity faded as I once again recalled the
image of the woman I’d seen in Jake’s memories, lying limp and dying in his
arms. What part had he played in her death? Unease washed over me at the
reminder that Jake was practically a stranger. I reprimanded myself for
forgetting that, and common sense kicked in. I was supposed to be kneeing him
in the groin. So, that’s what I did.

Distracting Jake with a fake head-butt should’ve worked,
but he’d been watching me train and knew the moves Harper had taught me—it was
easy for him to avoid my attack. I tried to knee him as hard as I could, but he
blocked my attempt with his leg.

He laughed heartily as I struggled in his hold.
He’s
enjoying this way too much.
Infuriated, I bit his neck with guilty
pleasure. Although the element of surprise would’ve sufficed, I bit him harder
than necessary, and he shouted in pain. I
kneed
him
in the groin as hard as I could, and when his grip loosened, I elbowed him in
the face. Squirming out of his hold, I began to dance victoriously.

Jake’s expression was a mix of anger, pain, and
amusement. He winced a couple of times, but my celebration was short-lived—he
was in less pain than I’d hoped. Bent over and breathing deeply, he smirked.
“Feel better?”