Into The Fire (The Ending Series) (8 page)

Suddenly, my brain fog evaporated and the General asked,
“Does that sound acceptable?”

I shook my head, trying to make sense of what had just
happened. “Um…yeah,” I heard myself say as my lips stretched into a grateful
smile.
I’m so happy to be here.
“I think that sounds perfect.”

General Herodson’s answering grin was radiant, washing away
a strange sense of anxiety.

“I’m very glad to hear it,” he said. “Now, I’m sure you’d
like to see your new home and settle in.”

I nodded.
My new home.
“Yes, that would be great. But
I don’t know where it is.”

“Not to worry.” He stood and rounded the desk, then reached
for my hand, pulled me up from the chair, and draped his arm over my shoulders.
Compared to me, he was tall, though he was probably still a little under six
feet. “I’m sure Gabriel will help get you settled. I’ll be sure he knows to
introduce you to the other communications specialists as soon as you’ve
recovered.”

“Okay,” I said, feeling absolutely content with my new
situation. I’d felt so lost and alone for so long, it was nice to finally
belong somewhere…to be around other people.

When the female guard opened the door, Gabe came into view.
He’d been leaning his back against the opposite hallway wall, but he
straightened as soon as he saw me. His handsome face lost all expression, going
completely and utterly blank. “Are you finished, Sir? Can I take her back to
the hospital?”

“Actually, Danielle has decided to stay. I believe you know
the house we prepared for her. Please take her there and help her settle in.”
General Herodson removed his arm from my shoulders and nudged me through the
doorway. “And make sure she wears these at all times,” he said, handing Gabe a pair
of yellow armbands that matched those I’d seen on pretty much everyone.

Gabe’s expression remained blank as I neared him, which
irritated me. Shouldn’t he have been happy that I was staying in the Colony,
that he’d get to spend more time with me? I was certainly looking forward to
getting to know
him
better…a lot better. But his eyes held a hint of
something resembling unhappiness.
He doesn’t want me to stay?

“Yes, of course, Sir.” Gabe accepted the yellow fabric, then
reached out and placed his arm around my shoulders much like General Herodson
had done. Except Gabe’s embrace felt different—more protective, possessive,
even. I figured it was just because he was noticeably taller and stronger than
the older man.

As Gabe started to guide me down the hallway, I looked back
at the General and smiled. “Thanks again,” I told him.

5

ZOE

MARCH
15, 1AE

Walking closer to the fire pit, I could distinctly hear the
shock in Jake’s voice as he confronted our mysterious visitor, his sister.

“I—I thought you…” He stared into Becca’s eyes. I could feel
the concern and guilt washing over him in waves, and I hesitated, not wanting
to intrude. “You were dead.” He reached for her, but she raised a hand to block
him. He froze, clearly distraught. “Where the hell’ve you been?”

And just as Jake’s mind fled to memories of the past,
Becca’s did as well, sweeping me along with it.

“We found the telepath,” a slender, stern-looking man
said as he rose from behind his large metal desk. His voice held a tinge of
victory, although his eyes remained empty. He was a middle-aged military
officer with brown hair and a slightly darker, cropped mustache. His navy blue,
medal-adorned uniform looked pretentious. I noticed a raving gleam in his eyes
as he glided over to Becca, who was standing in front of his desk wearing
pastel green scrubs.

“The one you’ve been searching for,” Becca said, only a
hint of emotion in her raspy voice. Her dark hair was twisted into a tight,
fist-sized bun atop her head, and her eyes were a dull mixture of blue and
gray…not the violet I recalled from Jake’s memories.

“Yes, the very one.” The officer nodded and walked the
few feet between the edge of his desk and Becca’s position in front of it. His
lips curved into a knowing smile as he placed both hands on her shoulders.
“Everything is turning out
exactly
like I wanted…we just need to wait a
little longer,” he added. “So prepare yourself for a special task.” He leaned
in closer to her.

She raised her chin a notch, honored that he’d chosen
her
to help him. “Of course, Father. Anything you wish of me, I will do.”

He gave her shoulders a slight squeeze. “Yes, I know,” he
said. He straightened and strode to a large window, his hands clasped behind
his back. “Sometime soon, you will be going to their camp to find out everything
you can about them. We need to know how dangerous they are, and how useful they
may be. We need to know if they’re special—like you, my dear.” He flashed her a
false smile over his shoulder. “And we need to know what their plans are. Will
you do that for me, RV-one, and do it
well
this time?”

Taken aback by his tone, she nodded and smiled. “Of
course, Father,” she repeated.

“Leave me now.” He shooed her away without even a glance
back up at her. “Don’t let me down again, RV-one.” There was an edge to his
voice, a warning. “You will regret it.”

The telepath.
“Dani,” I whispered.
What are they going
to do to her?

“I said, ‘where the hell’ve you been,’ Becca?” Jake’s hands
clasped her shoulders.

Becca straightened, looking startled. “I am not
Becca.”
Her raspy voice sounded official. “I do not know you,” she said slowly and
stepped away from him. “And please do not touch me.”

Jake frowned. “Don’t touch you?” Although he dropped his
hands to his sides, he didn’t step away. “Jesus Christ, Becca…are you alright? What
happened to you? I thought you were dead.”

She held his gaze for a moment longer before turning her
attention to the fire.

After a few breaths of silence, Jake took an uncertain step
closer. His eyes were wide, and his lips were parted like he was struggling to
find the right words. “You had no pulse…you were bleeding all over the place…”
His words were quiet and unsure, like he was questioning his own memories. “You
were
dead,” he said under his breath.

Becca’s eyebrows rose infinitesimally, but I couldn’t feel
her emotions clearly enough to interpret them. “I do not know what you are talking
about,” she said stiffly. Her strange speech pattern was jarring. “And my name
is
not
Becca; my name is R—Rachel.” Idly, she rubbed the skin beneath
the cuff of her sweatshirt, and I could just make out some black marks on her
wrist.
A tattoo? Like Dani’s?

Jake hesitated before he spoke. “Your name
is
Becca.
It’s Rebecca Marie Vaughn,” he said, and though she recoiled at his intensity,
he continued, “You’re twenty-four. You like to swim, but you love snowboarding.
You were born in Durango, but when Mom died we went to live with Gabe and Lizzy
in Colorado Springs. Your birthday is September twenty-fifth, and your favorite
color is red. You said you had fun at your prom because you knew that’s what I
wanted to hear, but secretly you hated it.” He shook his head. “I
do
know you. I’ve known you your whole goddamn life. You’re my little sister,” he
stated, his words pained, almost pleading.

Becca watched him for a moment, her eyes narrowed in
question.

“You were dead, Becca,” Jake said, still unable to grasp the
reality of her being there and standing in front of him.

She shrank away. “Please stop calling me that. I have
already told you, I am
not
your sister. I do not know what happened to
her, but I assure you, I am not her.” Her voice was slightly harder than
before. “Please stop calling me Becca.” Her steady tone was breaking, and I
wondered which emotion might surface first.
Confusion? Anger?
She turned
back to the fire. “Call me Rachel.” There was a hint of sadness in her voice as
she made the request.

I backtracked slowly and leaned against the barn. I wanted
to stay, to help Jake in some way, but I didn’t know how. I glanced back and
forth between them, watching Jake’s expression change from disbelief to sadness
and then to confusion. I could feel his apprehension warring with the
overwhelming need to pull his sister into his arms, to assure himself she was
really there. I wished I could take away the pain and regret that filled his
heart, but I couldn’t. All I could do was feel it with him.

After a second’s pause, Jake took a much-needed step back,
turned, and strode past me and into the barn. Cooper, who’d been sitting
quietly by the fire, rose and trotted after him. When Jake finally reappeared,
stalking toward Becca with a small square of paper held between his fingers, my
heart seized.
Oh, shit.
Assuming it was a photo of the two of them, I
held my breath, waiting to see how their interaction would play out.

Jake stopped beside Becca. “Look at it,” he said evenly,
holding the picture out to her. When she made no move to accept it, he sighed. “Just
look at it.”

Becca pried her eyes from the flames and slowly reached for
the photo. I could feel her mounting curiosity. She studied the image for a
moment, her expression giving nothing away.

Unexpectedly, her head snapped up, her eyes locking on to Jake’s,
and she thrust the picture at him. “Take it back,” she said brusquely. Her
display of frustration was the first sign of any intense emotion she’d shown
since she’d arrived. “I am not
her
.” She tugged anxiously at the hem of
her tattered black sweatshirt.

Jake’s mind was a cesspool of draining emotions—his anger
and
confusion
twisting with concern and despondency. He shook his head and walked away,
defeated.

His words, or the pain behind them, must have affected Becca,
because she watched him fixedly as he took one slow, brooding step after
another into the barn. He passed me again without a glance in my direction, and
I wondered if he even realized I was there.

Unbidden, another of Becca’s memories surfaced.

“Where was she, RV-one?” Father asked, eerily calm. He
clasped his hands behind his back and turned away from her, heading toward his
cluttered desk. “She was in your charge. I gave you specific orders.”

Becca’s eyes closed in shame. “Yes, Father. I know I have
let you down.”

“Yes, you have.”

Her face was expressionless, but when her eyes flew open,
they were filled with a sickening regret. “She was in the cafeteria,” she
offered. “CL-one is new. She did not understand why she must wait. I was only
in the restroom a few minutes. I do not know why she left.”

“Interesting.” He sat down in his leather desk chair,
calm and collected.

“I will speak with her, Father,” she said with only a
tinge of panic lacing her words. “I will determine the right course of action—”

“No, you won’t.” Father picked up a pen lying beside a
stack of files and began writing something, seeming completely unaffected by
her heightened sense of fear.

“Father?”

“Your carelessness is unacceptable,” he said
distractedly. “Grant,” he called.

I could practically taste Becca’s terror as the name
rolled off his tongue.

The door opened and a guard stepped inside. “Sir?”

“Take RV-one to the interrogation room.” He absently
gestured to Becca with the top his pen, his focus intent on the file in front
of him. “Make sure she realizes how important my orders are and what happens
when they’re not obeyed.”

Becca stepped forward. “Father, I will—”

“No,” he said, finally looking up at her. “And never let
this happen again. I won’t be as kind next time.” He glanced at the guard. “If
she struggles, do it again.”

After the guard nodded and pulled Becca’s hands behind
her back, the memory changed.

Becca was lying on a slanted board, her feet restrained
above her and her arms tied at her sides. Muted rays of light shone through the
fibers of the rag draped over her head. Her eyes were blurred from the remnants
of water that still seeped through the wet cloth onto her face and trickled
down her throat. Every attempted inhale was like breathing in scorching fire.
Tears of pain mixed with the water as it streamed across her temples.

When Becca heard the sloshing of water and realized her
momentary respite was over, she tried to scream, to beg for the guard to stop.
But it was no use.

Again, water seeped through the rag, running into her
nostrils.

Again, her mouth involuntarily opened and she attempted
to breathe. Water gurgled down her throat, making her lungs seize, her chest
heave, and her throat burn as she choked, almost suffocating completely.

Again, the primal instinct to breathe forced her body to
thrash against the board. She couldn’t help but struggle between bursts of panic.

Again, she was choking on water as she all but drowned.
Terror completely consumed her.

My mind stirred defensively, shutting out the suffocating
feeling that had begun to consume me.

Becca was standing alone by the fire. She inched closer to
the flames and tentatively raised her hands to their warmth. It was like she’d
never seen fire before.

What else did they do to her?
I drew an unsteady
breath.
Oh my God…what are they going to do to Dani?
I continued
searching through Becca’s mind for a memory that might help us figure out what “Father”
wanted with my best friend.

A cafeteria flashed in my mind, and I saw Becca sitting
among a sea of others dressed in scrubs like her, but in different colors, each
with two letters and two numbers tattooed on their wrists. They all seemed
socially stunted, innocent, and overtly unanimated—like Becca.