Out Of The Ashes (The Ending Series, #3) (33 page)

“I’m sorry,
Zoe, but I can’t leave. Peter needs me and I—”

“You would
stay with them, the General and his son, and forget about us?”

She seemed to
deflate. “I could never forget about you and your brother,” she said. Her voice
was thin and her eyes gleamed.

“Then come
back…” I hated the desperation in my voice, but I couldn’t help it.

She reached
out for me, her warm hand gently clasping my shoulder. “It’s not so easy, Zoe,
you have to understand.”

“Then tell me.
Why? Why can’t you leave Peter? Leave the General? Why didn’t you come with me
when you saved me from Clara? Do you love your new life, your new family, so
much? Do you—”

“He’s sick,
Zoe.”

My mouth was
open, but there were no words.

“Peter needs
to stay at the Colony, and I won’t leave him. Please, don’t ask me to abandon
another one of my children, to leave him in Gregory’s hands.” She shook her
head, a tear escaping down her cheek, and she swiftly brushed it away. “I won’t
lose another child because of my past decisions.” She hesitated. “I’m sorry.”
This time her tone was a bit colder.

I nodded. Not
in understanding, but because I guess I never really thought she’d come back to
us. Otherwise she would’ve already found a way.

“Bring him
with you,” I blurted. “We’ll figure things out…you’re all we have left. I
don’t—”

“He has to
stay in the Colony, Zoe. There are things he needs, things I couldn’t give him
if we were anywhere else.”

I struggled to
swallow the lump thickening in my throat. I tried to feel sympathy for Peter, the
half-brother I’d never met, but he was nothing to me. The knowledge that my mom
was sitting in front of me and refusing to rejoin what remained of our family
was too painful to ignore. “Now that you have Peter”—I wrung my hands in my
lap—“do you still regret leaving us?” Despite the drumming of my heart and the
sound of my own voice echoing in my ears, all I could focus on was her answer.

Her brow
furrowed. “Of course I do. I wish things had been different—that I could’ve
watched you and Jason grow up, that I could’ve been a part of your lives. But I
don’t regret leaving to save you. How could I?”

Trying to
ignore the burning ache in my chest, I latched onto my resentment. “Why did you
even have kids?” I bit out. “How could you when you knew you’d never be safe?
Now, everyone’s dead or crazy, and we’re worried about Monitors and the General
finding us.” My voice ricocheted in the stillness of her dream.

Jason and Dad
were suddenly gone, and it was just my mom and me sitting together in a setting
she seemed so out of place in, my future juxtaposed with my past.

“I understand
that you’re angry,” she said softly. “I don’t blame you.”

Shaking my
head, a whimsical thought left my lips. “None of this would’ve happened if
you’d just stayed.”

“You all would
be dead if I had stayed. I had to go.” I could hear her frustration, but I
ignored it.

I reminded her
of her own words. “You told Dani that Herodson would’ve found someone else to
create the Virus even if you hadn’t.” I stood, unable to sit so close to her
any longer.

“There are
always what-ifs and maybes. I can’t go back and change my decisions. Knowing
you’re alive means more—”

“Alive?
Barely,” I spat. “Everything changed the day you left, can’t you see that?”
Resentment made it difficult to speak. “Dad, Jason, me…we weren’t a family, not
really. Dad was never around, and Jason and I never had a real relationship.
All I had was Dani. While you…” I could barely say the words. “You started a
new family…with
him
.”

“Please
understand that I’m sorry, God am I sorry, for all the pain I’ve caused you and
your brother…”

“But?”

“But this is
my life now, and I have to do what I can to make things right.”

“Just not
right with us,” I whispered.

Her eyes shimmered,
and her lips tensed as she swallowed. After a brief moment, she descended the
steps and stopped in front of me. Hesitantly, she reached for my face. Her
eyebrows lifted the barest amount as she wiped a tear from my cheek.

I closed my
eyes at the feeling of her touch; it was warm and comforting despite my
mounting anger, and knowing it was the last time I’d ever see her, I burned the
sensation into my memory.

“Zoe, I’m so…”
Her voice broke. “I’m so sorry I—”

“Please
don’t,” I said and slowly turned away from her before I completely lost control
of myself.

She made no
move to stop me, and after I whispered Gabe’s name, my mom and the disturbing
replica of my home disappeared.

24

DANI

MAY 23, 1AE

Bodega Bay, California

It was the
morning of the final day of our journey—
finally
—and I was holding open
the stuff sack for our tent, waiting for Jason to shove the rolled-up mass of
dark green nylon into it. Every morning, it seemed to be a personal goal of his
to roll up the tent even tighter, to make it fill an even smaller space. I
smiled.

“Watch this,”
Jason said with a smirk. He slipped the rolled-up tent into the stuff sack like
the interior was lined with butter.

I stifled my grin
while I pulled the sack’s drawstring to close it tightly. “Wow…that’s a real
talent you’ve got there.” I tossed the tent on the ground with our packs,
saddlebags, and the other stuff sacks containing our sleeping gear. “You should
start a tent-rolling league.”

Jason crossed his
arms and watched me as I pulled my hair free of its hair tie and bent over to
smooth the wild curls back into a more secure ponytail.

I straightened
and stared back at him. “What? I’m absolutely, completely serious,” I said,
batting my eyelashes. “You should totally do that.” My eyes widened, like I’d
had a lightbulb moment. “It could be a game in the Post-Apocalyptic Olympics!”

Jason’s eyes
narrowed, the corner of his mouth curving up just enough to reveal the hint of
a dimple. “You’re hilarious,” he said dryly and started toward me. He stopped with
the toes of his boots almost touching mine, and simply stared down at me. “So
damn funny…” His gaze flicked down to my lips, then returned to my eyes.

I licked my lips,
feeling the charge of desire building between us, electric and pulsing.

Annie giggled and
ran between us, causing Jason to take a step backward. He broke eye contact
with me, looking around camp before bending over to pick up our camping gear.
Briefly, his eyes met mine, still burning with unfulfilled desire and so much
damn promise, before he started toward the barn where we’d stored the wagon,
cart, and tack for the night.

“We’re sure
Bodega Bay’s clear?” he asked over his shoulder. “Absolutely sure?”

Taking a deep,
calming breath, I told my libido to shut the hell up and grabbed both sets of
saddlebags, tossing one over my shoulder. I had to jog to catch up with Jason.

“Yeah…or as sure
as we can be.” Last night, Gabe and Zoe had met with some of the members of the
Town Council, Bodega Bay’s ruling body, alerting them of our imminent arrival
plans and double-checking how safe the area had been over the last few weeks. Around
our breakfast campfire, they’d relayed what the members of the Town Council
told them: they’d been doing daily sweeps of the area in and around the town,
and they hadn’t seen any “Lost Ones”—the local survivors’ term for what we
called “Crazies”—for over a month.

Jason shot me a
sideways glance. “And there’s still no contradictory reports from any of your
scouts?”

I shook my head.
I’d confirmed the information Zoe and Gabe had passed on with the animals in
the area. My furred and feathered informants hadn’t caught a whiff of any
off-smelling two-legs for weeks. Beyond that, Ky and Zoe would be doing their
usual mental sweep of the area once we were close enough, and that would
hopefully provide double confirmation. Besides, if we couldn’t trust the
survivors of our own hometown, who
could
we trust?

We reached the
barn, and Jason propped the heavy wooden door open, letting me enter before he
did. He placed the stuff sacks in their usual place in the chuck wagon, his
expression thoughtful.

I watched him for
a moment before setting our saddlebags on top of our respective saddles. When I
turned to face him again, hands resting on my hips, I found him staring deeper
into the barn, his eyebrows drawn together. Worry was written on his face,
plain as day; he never allowed himself to be so expressive when the others were
around.

“What is it?”

He looked at me
and blinked, his usual guarded mask sliding back in place. “What if we lead him
there?”

I tilted my head
to the side. “Herodson?” I frowned. “I don’t think we will, or at least, I
don’t think he’ll follow us.”

“You can’t know
for sure.”

Shaking my head,
I exhaled heavily and moved to stand in front of Jason. I reached for his hands
and wove our fingers together. “No. I can’t know for sure.”
And if Becca
can, she’s not saying anything about it.
I peered up at him. “I can’t know
anything
for sure, except that I love you, and I want to find a place where we can
settle down and be together”—I laughed softly—“with our crazy new family of
superhuman freaks and just
live
.” I sighed. “I’m tired, Jason. We can’t
run forever, and we can’t pretend that everyone else’s safety is our
responsibility, because it’s not. The only people we’re responsible for are
ourselves.”

Jason’s gaze
softened. “And Annie…”

I smiled. “And
Annie.”

~~~~~

“Have you seen
Jason?” I asked first Mase and Camille, who were moseying around the Bodega Bay
Riders’ Ranch collecting firewood; then Carlos, who was setting up a stall in
the stable to be a comfortable living-space-slash-prison-cell for his sister
while Vanessa remained locked in the neighboring stall, chatting nonstop with
nobody; then Chris and Harper, who were inside the ranch house, cleaning up the
gory remnants of the attack that had spurred our early departure months ago so
it was at least partially habitable for the few days we would be camping there;
then Gabe and Sanchez, who were unloading gear from the cart and wagon.

But nobody had
seen Jason for nearly a half hour, not since we’d arrived at the ranch.

I found Zoe just
outside the stable’s pasture door, rubbing down the last of the horses with
Sam. Her hair was up in a short ponytail, and she was wearing her usual dark,
fitted tank top, jeans, and combat boots combo, making her appear both harder
and more laid-back than she’d been the last few years.

The weeks since
leaving Tahoe had really been the only time we’d had together since the
outbreak, and I was enjoying finding out all kinds of new things about my best
friend. She was stronger, both physically and emotionally—instead of emerging
shattered from a situation that would have broken most people, she’d come out
more decisive, willful, and sure of herself—and she was more capable and
confident than the Zoe I remembered, which made me smile. Art gallery and
bartender Zoe seemed like a washed-out reflection of the vibrant, vivacious
woman standing in front of me.

I
leaned
one shoulder against the metal door frame. “Have you seen your brother?”

Zoe’s face scrunched
up, making her look constipated, before she turned away from me to continue
brushing Shadow. I knew that face; it meant she was hiding something from me.

“Zo…” Squinting,
I visually scanned the part of the pasture that I could see while I telepathically
scanned the rest of the pastureland around the ranch for Jason’s chestnut
gelding. When I didn’t feel the unnamed horse’s mind anywhere, I expanded my
search. Only then did I find him—in town, heading straight for our home street.
“He’s going home? Why?”
And why isn’t Zo going with him?

“I don’t know?”
Without looking at me, Zoe gestured inside the stable, indicating the stall
immediately to the left of the doorway; it was the same stall that Wings had
favored during our several-week stay on the ranch during the winter. “Just go
after him already.” Zoe glanced at me over her shoulder, smirking. “You know
that’s what you’re going to do anyway, and I’m not crazy enough to try to stop
you, so…”

Nodding, I strode
to the stall doorway, where Wings stood with her head stuffed in a bucket that
I could only assume contained oats or some other tasty snack. She lifted her
head just enough to look me in the eye, murmured
“Yum”
in my mind, and
returned to eagerly stuffing her face.

I couldn’t bring
myself to disturb her well-deserved rest by re-saddling her and asking her to
carry me the mile or so between the ranch and Jason’s house. If I asked her,
she would do it, but that didn’t make it right.

“Enjoy, Pretty
Girl,”
I told her before
leaving her to munch on her oats in peace.

When I turned
back to Zoe, I found her cinching Shadow’s saddle around his onyx belly.

“Take him,” she
said. “It was a short day, anyway, and he still seems a little antsy.”

I frowned,
feeling bad about delaying Shadow’s relaxation time, but after receiving
his
reassurance as well as Zoe’s that he would be okay with another short trip, I nodded.
“Thanks, Zo.”

She flashed me a
grin that looked just a tiny bit forced. “Any time.”

Several minutes
later, I was riding Shadow down the gravel driveway at a walk. I left the
stable through the door leading to the pasture.
“Jack,”
I said to my
German shepherd.
“I need you.”

“With Pup,”
he said, showing me an image of Annie,
flanked by two dogs—Jack and Cooper—while she carried on an intense telepathic
conversation with a mama loon, who was floating in the pond behind the ranch
house.

I briefly looped
myself into their conversation, hearing the bird express her concerns about how
much lower her pond was this spring than it had been the previous year.

“I’m going to
be gone for an hour or two,”
I told Annie, interrupting her interspecies conversation.
“Stay with
Cooper…and don’t go any further from the house.”

Annie responded
with the telepathic equivalent of a pout.

“I mean it,”
I said, a warning in my mental voice.

“Okay,”
she agreed without any more fuss. I wasn’t
sure if she was so easy to manage because her mind was more attuned to a pack structure
like the mind of a wolf because of how fully she’d embraced drifting, because
she’d lived among dogs and wolves for months, or because she was simply an
easygoing kid, but I wasn’t about to complain.

I let her know
that I was pleased, then put our connection on the back burner, so I could
speak only to Jack.
“Leave Annie with Cooper and come find me.”

“Yes, Mother.”

About ten minutes
later, I was swaying atop Shadow as he lazily clip-clopped down my street, the
usual coastal fog hindering my view of the bay on the left, of the road up
ahead, of the houses on the right…of pretty much everything.

I’d been paying
attention to the location of Jason’s horse while I rode. He’d been stopped
several hundred yards up ahead, presumably at Jason’s house, but suddenly
started moving further away.

“That’s odd,” I
mumbled.
Is Jason going to
my
house?

The only other
logical explanation I could come up with was that he was heading out to the new
town center, the marina near the end of the peninsula beyond our houses, to let
the Town Council know we’d arrived. I shook my head. The Council already knew
we were arriving today, and had given us permission to stay at the ranch until
we met with them the following day.

Which brought me
back to the deduction that he was going to my house and gave rise to a hoard of
questions, the first among them being—
Why?

Shadow, Jack, and
I continued on through the fog, following Jason’s horse. When I sensed him stop
moving again, I was certain about Jason’s destination.

The shape of
Jason’s horse formed in the fog as we approached my house. He was standing
sentry in the front yard, his reins looped around the deck’s bannister. I
dismounted a few yards away and spent several seconds attempting to puzzle out
what Jason was doing
at my house
. And still, I came up with
nothing…zip…nada.

I glanced down at
Jack, who was sitting patiently beside me.
“I’m going in. Can you stay out
here and keep an eye on things with Shadow and Nameless?”
The poor horse’s
moniker, or lack thereof, had become well known among the other animals,
amusing them to no end.

Jack barked as he
stood and started wagging his tail.

“Let me know
if you sense danger.”

He barked his
affirmative.

I made my way to
the deck stairs, pausing to pick a sprig of lavender from one of the bushes
bordering the railing before making my way up the wooden steps. I tried the
doorknob but found it locked and quickly hurried back down the stairs and
around to the back of the house, where Grams kept the spare key hidden in a
flowerpot on the back deck.

When the sole of
my boot touched the first stair, the back door creaked open, and I stared up at
it. The doorway was empty.

“Jason?” I
ascended the stairs and crossed the deck to the open door, the wooden boards
groaning as I took each step. I paused in the doorway, peering around the
bright, cheery—and
empty
—
kitchen and adjoining dining room. There
was no sign of Jason, other than the door being opened…
which had to be him,
right?