Into The Fire (The Ending Series) (13 page)

I watched as Gabe inserted the vial into an opening in the
top of the inoculator and took a step away from his desk…toward me. I shot to
my feet. “What are you doing?”

Gabe held his hands low, one gripping the inoculator, the other
reaching for me. “It’ll make you feel better, I promise. I’m just trying to
help you, Dani.”

“I don’t need help,” I said, backing toward the door. “I
feel fine…great, actually. No more headache. All better,” I lied.

Holding up the inoculator so I could see it better, Gabe
said, “Dani, it’ll barely even hurt. Just a little pinch, and then
everything—the confusion and weird déjà vu moments—it’ll all be gone.”

“I know what that is.” I backed into the door and slid my
hands behind me to grip the doorknob. My chest was suddenly tight with terror.
Even though I didn’t remember why, some part of my brain
knew
I didn’t
want him injecting me with whatever was in the vial. “You want to hurt me.
That’s why you’ve been acting so strange toward me…why you wouldn’t…why last
night…”

Gabe shook his head, pleading with his eyes. It seemed
genuine, but some visceral feeling inside me told me it was just…wrong.
This
is all WRONG!

“I want to help you, Dani. Please trust me.”

I wanted him to stop saying my name. “I can’t,” I whispered,
finding the door handle behind me and shoving the door open. I spun and dashed
into the lab.

Unfortunately, Gabe’s legs ate up about twice as much
distance as mine with each stride; he overtook me in a matter of seconds. He
tackled me, wrapping his arms around my body and trapping my arms at my sides. Turning
our bodies, he cushioned my fall so that I landed on him instead of the
unyielding linoleum floor.

“Why…are you…doing this?” I grunted, trying to wriggle out
of his grasp.

“I’m trying to help you.” After several deep breaths, Gabe
whispered, “You’ll understand soon.”

He rolled until I was flat on my stomach on the cold, gray
and white-speckled floor and he was straddling my back, holding my arms
immobile against my sides with his knees. I could kick backward, a little, but
it didn’t do me any good.

“I’m sorry this had to be so difficult,” Gabe said as he
pressed the muzzle of the inoculator against the side of my neck. With the
sound of compressed air being released, I felt a sharp pinch in my neck. It was
quickly followed by a dull throb as the toxic-looking liquid entered my body.

“You’re a bastard,” I hissed.

“So much more than you realize.” He sounded regretful.

“I’m going to…to…” I growled, floundering for an adequate
form of violent, painful revenge, but Gabe cut off my train of thought by
releasing me and standing.

I glared up at his towering form as I turned over and
scooted backward until my shoulder rammed into a cabinet. I tried to stand, but
fuzziness was filling my head and the floor seemed to be tilting like a
carnival ride. “What’d you do to me?”

“Just wait,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning his hip
against the opposite counter. He was watching me, waiting for something.

“I—” Whatever words I’d intended to say died on my tongue.

An image of Callie, my roommate back in Seattle, burst
into my head. She was curled in the fetal position on her bathroom floor,
my
dog beside her and the smell of vomit lingering in the air.

And then I was sitting on top of Cam, beating his lifeless
body in an attempt to make him wake back up.

In another instant, a note from Grams appeared in my
shaking hand. Her written words told me she was dying, but that she hoped I
would survive.

“No. No! NO!” I wailed, clutching my head.
They’re dead.
They’re all dead…how could I have forgotten?

Hundreds of memories of Jason—of fighting with him, of
watching him, of searching abandoned buildings with him, of feeling him lying
beside me—overwhelmed all my senses. It had been Jason and Zoe, along with Chris,
Ky, and the others I’d encountered since the outbreak, or my suppressed memory
of them, who had come to me in my dreams, urging me to remember. “Oh God…”

And then I was with Zoe, hugging her and jumping up and
down. She was alive…I’d found her.
Was that really only two days ago?

General Herodson’s voice—his words—were the final memory to
return. “Oh my God,” I whispered, suddenly recalling his exact words…words I
hadn’t really
heard
until now.

“I’m very sorry to hear that, Danielle. I had really
hoped you would feel more at home here and that I wouldn’t have to bend your
mind like all the others. My most loyal are those who choose to follow me of
their own accord. Oh, well. You will do exactly as I say. You will agree to
stay in the Colony and be excited about moving into the house I’m providing for
you. You will forget anyone and everything you experienced since you were
infected with the Virus, up until you arrived here. You will forget any
negative opinions you may have formed about the Colony or me. You will only
remember that you traveled here alone—this has always been your
destination—that Gabe is your friend, and, of course, how to use your
remarkable Ability. You will
always
tell me the truth. And, most
importantly, you will work for me, doing whatever I wish you to do, and be
happy about it. Does that sound acceptable?”

General Herodson had manipulated my mind; he’d torn away my
most valued memories and controlled my every decision. As his words replayed in
my head, rage, hotter and more explosive than anything I’d ever felt, boiled
within me. It rushed through my veins, flooding my muscles with adrenaline and
white-hot fury.

I began to scream, channeling the single, concentrated
emotion into the sound. I screamed until my throat was raw and my voice had
faded to a rough rasp.

9

ZOE

MARCH
16, 1AE

Another set of gunshots cracked in the distance, and something
clicked inside Jake. His fallen features transformed into something fierce and focused
as he reached for my hand. All his chaotic emotions were shadowed by protective
determination.
For me?
He looked at his sister.
No, for Becca.
I
felt unsettled—an unpleasant mixture of hyperawareness and emotional
numbness—and I was unsteady on my feet as he hauled me over to the display case
and pulled out our duffel bag of weapons and ammunition.

There was more gunfire.

“Get your asses out here!”
Sanchez’s voice echoed in
our heads.

They’re still here?
An unexpected sense of relief
washed over me.

“We’re by the movie theater, in the center of downtown.
Chris and I are cornered in the ice cream shop, and Jason, Harper, and Carlos
are holed up a few stores down. There’s at least a half dozen black-bands
scattered across the street. Come around the corner of Sixth and Main so they
don’t see you.”

Jake lugged the bag out and opened it, tossing me extra
ammunition before zipping it back up and heaving it over his shoulder. I
slipped the two extra magazines for my pistol into the waist of my cargo pants,
swallowed the bile rising in my throat, and tried to exhale the burning
sensation in my stomach. I’d grown far too used to the taste of fear.

The touch of Jake’s warm palm on my cheek startled me. “Stay
down and stay focused.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for me to process his
words.

I nodded back at him and offered a weak, but grateful smile.
He kissed me. I didn’t have time to overthink us, but I was confused.

“We’ll come back for you,” Jake told his sister, and before
I really knew what was happening, he captured my hand again and we were running
out the door.

We slinked around cars and buildings for a couple blocks,
drawing closer to the mayhem. Approaching a drugstore at the corner of Sixth
and Main, we sidled up to the cement wall to catch our breath. Jake peered
around the corner of the building, his fingers still gripping mine.

A few gunshots cracked in the air and Jake pulled back,
straightening. “There are three soldiers about two blocks down, and there are a
couple of them making their way toward us. The ice cream shop is a couple stores
down, and I think the rest of our people are in the restaurant and flower shop
the next block over, but I can’t be sure.” He shoved our bag into a mass of
juniper bushes lining the side of the drugstore. “We have to get closer. We’ll
use the flower beds for cover.”

We rounded the corner of the drugstore and headed toward the
firefight in the heart of downtown. “Stay low and keep quiet,” Jake mouthed. Two
black-bands, using abandoned cars as cover over a dozen yards away, were
yelling at one another.

I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants, gripping the fabric
like it was a stress ball. After another gunshot, I heard a pained shout, and
my heart stopped momentarily.
Jason
.

“Over here,” Jake said, tugging me down behind one of the
raised cement flower beds. The pool table–sized beds lined both sides of the
street, their contents dormant for the winter, aside from the garbage can–camouflaging
shrubbery on one side; it was the only thing keeping Jake and me out of sight.

I heard my brother shout in pain again and Jake stiffened. “Stay
here, keep your gun ready, and shoot anyone who even sees you,” he whispered,
releasing my hand.

I nodded and removed my pistol from my thigh holster.

“I’ll come back for you. Don’t come out unless I call your
name. Okay?” He saw hesitation in my eyes. “They’re military-trained, Zoe, not
Crazies. If they shoot at you, they
won’t
miss.”

I nodded, feeling dumb while I watched Jake covertly crawl
behind the cover of an abandoned Audi and disappear around a small, empty deli a
few shops beyond the drugstore.

Upon hearing approaching footsteps, I froze. Multiple
someones, probably the black-bands we’d seen arguing, stopped on the other side
of the flower bed. I couldn’t see them, but I could hear them and feel their
emotions—an unnerving mix of exhilaration and determination—as they scuffled
closer to my hiding place. When they opened fire on my friends across the
street, my ears rang, my hands started trembling, and I broke out in a cold
sweat.

A bullet hit the shop window just a couple yards behind me,
and I watched as the glass spider webbed around the hole. Catching sight of
myself in the broken window, I momentarily panicked.
I can see them.
The
two black-bands were crouched beside a VW bus, their backs to me as they aimed
their rifles through the vehicle’s busted windows.
If I can see them, they
could see me.
I couldn’t risk idly waiting, hoping they wouldn’t turn
around.

Closing my eyes, I considered my options…but I already knew
what I needed to do. I needed to kill them, before
they
killed me.
Briefly, I wondered if Jake’s blood still coursed through my veins from the
transfusion back at Fort Knox—blood which would help me to heal if I was
wounded—but either way, I didn’t have any other choice.
I have
to
kill them.

I had shitty aim compared to the soldiers, but I had the
element of surprise. Besides, they were
really
close…which was both a
blessing and a curse. The shrubbery in front of me was tall and thick enough to
obscure their view of me, allowing me the opportunity to shoot them before
being seen.
If nothing else, I could at least slow them down…shoot them in
the leg so they can’t walk, or maybe the arm to wound them or ruin their aim…something…

Jump-started by the sound of Jason swearing in agony across
the street, I looked down at the gun in my shaking hand and took a few
steadying breaths. As quietly as I could, I aimed through the bushes. The sound
of gunshots continued to scream through the air.

The two black-bands moved, crouching only four or so feet
from me on the other side of the flower bed as they reloaded their ammunition. I
needed to act fast. I was so close I could see the sweat beading on their
foreheads and above their upper lips, and the way their chests heaved under
their gear. I ignored the fact the man nearest me had green eyes that reminded
me of Dani’s, and that he looked to be about my age. I ignored the fact that he
had a tattoo on the skin between his thumb and forefinger.
It’s probably his
mom’s name…or girlfriend’s.

I took a fortifying breath.
They’re probably already dead
,
I thought cynically and pulled the trigger. My entire body hummed with
tension as my muscles absorbed the shock and recoil.

The green-eyed soldier fell to the ground, a bullet through
the side of his neck.
It worked.
I blinked in disbelief before shifting
my aim to the black-band beside him. As he leveled his assault rifle in my
direction, I pulled the trigger again, missing once before shooting him in the
chest. He dropped to the ground beside his comrade, still moving, but I could
only focus on the man I’d shot in the neck. Blood was spurting from the wound.
I
killed him.

I pivoted and fell forward, dropping my gun and bracing
myself on my palms while catching my breath. And then I heard footsteps beside
me. I reached for my gun, but I was too slow.

Roughly, hands grabbed my hair, yanking me to my feet, and I
shrieked. My scalp stung as my assailant tugged mercilessly at my hair, and the
hot barrel of his handgun pressed into my temple.

“I thought I smelled a girl,” he said. “You should’ve shot
me in the head, you little bitch.” He smelled of tobacco and sweat.

“Let her go!” a familiar voice demanded. Harper. The
black-band spun, ripping me around with him and pinning my body against him
with his arm. Harper’s eyes traced down the curve of the man’s arm, tight against
my chest, and up to where his dirty hand gripped my throat. I winced as his
exceptionally long fingernails dug into my skin.

A deadly glint flashed in Harper’s narrowed green eyes. “I
will
kill you,” he growled as he approached us, his steps steady and his rifle
aimed directly at the man’s head. “Let her go,” he repeated without a hint of
fear or hesitation in his voice.

“Fresh meat?” The man chuckled. “I don’t think so.”

Suddenly, I was being dragged behind a building. The man’s
hold on me loosened while we moved, enabling me to maneuver my arm so I could
pull Jake’s knife out of my pocket. My captor stumbled, making the knife
difficult for me to unlatch, but as he caught himself against the building with
his gun hand, I finally succeeded. I stabbed him in the side of his thigh.

The black-band howled in pain as I yanked the blade from his
flesh. His grip loosened further, and I started to scramble away.

Seizing the opportunity, Harper pulled the trigger. Three
gunshots sounded before the black-band started to fall, grabbing my hair and
pulling me down with him. I struggled out of his grasp, but his hand latched on
to my forearm.

I stabbed him again, this time in the neck. The muscles and
tendons were dense, making it difficult to drive the blade in, and I felt a
sickening crunch as the blade hit something more solid. Almost instantly, I
jerked my hand away. I stared at the man’s body, wide-eyed and unable to move.

Everything after that happened so quickly, it was all a
blur. More shots were fired, and Harper’s arms were around me. I heard
footsteps and shouting and more gunfire, and then there was silence. I looked
around at a graveyard of dead bodies—almost a dozen of them littered the street
and sidewalks. Blood splattered their faces and fatigues. Their vacant eyes
seemed to bore into mine, accusing me. I couldn’t look away.

Harper entwined his fingers with mine, tugging me with him
as he headed back to the flower bed where I’d dropped my gun. Once I was
rearmed, he checked me for wounds.

“I’m fine,” I told him. “Promise.” He swore softly, and I
remembered my brother’s agonized shout. “Shit! Where’s Jason? Is he okay?”

Harper pointed his chin toward something behind me, and I
spun around, seeking any sign of my brother.

Jake was striding toward us. “Sanchez and Chris are getting Becca
and the horses,” he explained. “And Jason needs medical attention.” He pointed
to another large flower bed across the street.

I followed the direction of his finger and found Carlos standing
above my brother, reaching down to help him to his feet. Jason struggled to
stand, favoring his right foot as he took a wobbling step over a dead soldier
sprawled on the cement. Together, they limped toward us.

As Jake drew nearer and focused on me, his eyes widened. I
glanced down at my clothes. They were covered in blood, and my face felt sticky
and wet.
No wonder Harper was fussing over me.
When I glanced up again,
Jason was closer. He had a deep gash spanning from his hairline down to his jaw
and blood smeared pretty much everywhere.

“Jason! Are you okay?” I ran to him. “What happened?”

He waved me away. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. You need stitches, and I’ve got to—”

Jason put his hand out, gripping my arm as he hobbled closer
to sit down on the ledge of a flower bed. “Is any of that blood yours?” he
asked.

I shook my head as horses clopped up the road. It was
Sanchez and Chris. They stopped the five horses in front of us and jumped down,
Sanchez walking with an evident limp. Behind them, I noticed Harper moving from
dead black-band to dead black-band, collecting their weapons and searching
their bodies for anything useful.

“Are you alright?” I asked Sanchez, searching her leg for
blood.

“It’s just a twisted ankle, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,”
she said. When her gaze landed on Jason, I felt a swelling of concern radiate
from her. Taking a hobbling step closer to him, she began to ask, “Are you al—”

“I’m fine,” Jason said dismissively, and Sanchez hesitated.
Her face was almost expressionless, but I could feel her torment.

Shaking off Jason’s apathy, she said, “Carlos, help Chris
get Jason up on his horse. We need to get the hell out of here. This goddamn
place is cursed.” She glanced at Harper and Jake. “And Becca’s gone.” She shook
her head and rested her hands on her hips. “There goes our leverage.”

Harper joined us, carrying an armful of weapons.
Weapons…Oh!
My knife.
I reached into my pocket, but my knife wasn’t there.

Turning around, I looked at the man I’d stabbed. My knife
was sticking out of his throat and covered in his blood. I hurried over to him,
snatched it out of his neck without a second thought, and wiped it off on his
sleeve. My eyes lingered on his black armband. I cut the band off both sleeves
and stuffed them into my pocket along with my knife.

“We should collect all the armbands,” I called. “They might
come in handy.”

Out of nowhere, my head started throbbing, and I grew dizzy
in the thrall of the most intense storm of despair and fury I’d ever felt. My
body tensed as the rushing swirl of frenzied emotions swept over me.

“Agh!” I screamed and fell to my knees, panting. I
recognized the source of the emotions. “Dani…”