Into The Fire (The Ending Series)

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Into The Fire (The Ending Series) Page 10

by Lindsey Fairleigh


  But as soon as the door closed, it opened again, and my brother strode in, heading straight for me. Before I knew what was happening, his arms were wrapped around me in the fiercest hug he’d ever given me. I didn’t have time to return the embrace before he pulled away and disappeared out the back door once more.

  I stared at the door, stunned and wishing I’d been able to hug him back. Will I ever see him again? Exhaling, I crumpled the thought into an imaginary ball and tossed it into a lockbox that I planned to shove into the deepest chasms of my mind. I’d been tossing a lot of unwanted thoughts in there lately.

  Feeling eyes on me, I glanced at Becca, and then at Jake. Both of them were watching me intently, but Jake averted his gaze almost immediately. He stood at the mirrored window, which stretched the entire length of the wall, again staring blankly outside.

  This is gonna be a long wait. Taking a deep and concentrated breath, I sidestepped Becca and walked over to the window. I stood beside Jake and gazed out at the empty street.

  Hiding out at the outskirts of downtown, we could barely see the old-fashioned buildings that were once quaint and rustic boutiques and restaurants—the raised flower beds that lined both sides of the street were unruly and overgrown, and the windows were still painted with holiday greetings and well-wishes.

  It felt like an hour had passed since the others had left, since I’d been standing silently, wondering what to say to Jake, but it had only been a few minutes. Each second went by excruciatingly slowly, and Jake pacing from the front door to the window and back wasn’t helping time lapse any quicker.

  Feeling his overwhelming distress, I gazed back out the window and tried to focus on something else…anything other than his turmoil.

  I watched the naked branches of the trees shudder in the breeze and the stray bits of garbage rolling down the deserted street like tumbleweeds. I contemplated giving in to the lethargy that was making my eyes heavy. It had been days since I’d really slept, but now wasn’t the time.

  I scanned the room, taking in every boring detail of my temporary cage. It had obviously been abandoned long before the outbreak. The plaster walls had fist-size holes in them, and clothing racks had been ripped from the walls and tossed into a pile in the back right corner of the store. There were a couple of crumbling boxes in another corner, stacks of magazines filling each of them. A woman bending over, ass bared, in a slutty French maid costume graced the top cover in one box, the other displaying a voluptuous cowgirl sitting precariously on a saddle. An old porn shop? I grinned. Mirrored windows, just outside of downtown? Of course it is.

  As Jake continued to pace, memories of Becca flashed in his mind, and I saw their childhood play out like I was looking into a zoetrope. I wanted to watch each memory longer, to see more of what their lives had been like before, but the scenes flashed by regardless of my wishes.

  A small boy—Jake—sitting on the edge of a tattered mattress. His sister sitting in front of him, her back to him and her little legs folded underneath her, barely raising her up enough for him to brush her hair and put it into a ponytail.

  Jake, a little older, leaning against a yellow Formica countertop. The house was old and dirty. Piles of laundry and crumbling, old cardboard boxes were stacked against the wall behind him. Becca sitting on the counter nearby, eating an apple while he made her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

  A teenage Becca stepping into a minimally decorated living room with a worn leather couch, a side table, a reading lamp, and a vintage green recliner in front of a small, boxy television sitting atop a wooden crate. Her brunette hair was curled into ringlets and piled atop her head, and a nervous smile inched across her face. She was wearing a strapless, crimson chiffon dress that hung just above her knees and simple black pumps. Jake handing her his old pocket knife, a familiar, severe look on his face. Her smile widening as she accepted the knife and placed it in her black velvet handbag.

  Jake driving a black Jeep, Cooper sitting happily in the back, Becca hanging her bare feet out the passenger-side window. She was laughing and tossing popcorn at him, and I could tell he was trying not to smile. She rolled her eyes and pushed the play button on the stereo. Immediately dropping the bag of popcorn onto the floor, she wriggled and danced in her seat, letting the kernels fall all over the interior of the car. Jake pointed to the mess, trying to keep his eyes on the road, but she waved his anger away as she continued singing, shimmying her shoulders and flailing around.

  “Please untie me, Jake.” Becca’s voice was almost booming in the silence.

  I turned in time to see his eyes shoot to hers.

  “Please? If I fail him again, he will be so angry. I do not want to make Father angry. Please.”

  Jake looked at me and then sat down on a plastic chair by the window, making it creak under his weight. He covered his face with his hands, and it looked like he was trying to rub away his own personal hell.

  I glanced at Becca again, whose eyes were closed and chin was quivering slightly. “I have to get back,” she rasped. “I have to warn them.”

  Warn them? I approached her, the rubber soles of my boots squeaking on the cement floor. “Warn who?” I asked her, but she didn’t answer because Jake strode over. When he looked at me, his eyes were an inferno of rage, resentment, and despondency. My stomach dropped and my defenses flared.

  “Jake,” I said, reaching for him, but he pulled his arm away. “Please, talk to me.” I reached for him again, and as soon as I touched him, my shoulders dropped; he was splintered inside, like wood being hacked into a thousand, unmendable pieces. “Jake…” His name was barely a whisper.

  He tugged his arm out of my grasp. “Don’t, Zoe,” he said before he turned away from me.

  “Don’t wha—”

  “I can’t,” he began, glaring back at me. “I can’t do this. I can’t send her back to that place…to that man.”

  “What?” Becca screeched. “Jake, I have—”

  “I can’t send her back, and I can’t…you…”

  “Me, what? You’re scaring the shit out of me.” My voice was trembling. “But she wants—”

  “I can’t breathe!” He stalked to the storefront window, his broad chest heaving under his t-shirt. “I should’ve known. I should’ve—”

  “Known what, exactly? That she wasn’t really dead? Or that they’d somehow bring her back to life and brainwash her?”

  “I am not—”

  I continued to talk over Becca, my voice harsh and defensive. I couldn’t help it. I’d never seen Jake so distraught, so…I didn’t even know. “You couldn’t have possibly known what she’d turn into or who she’d become.”

  With one palm pressed against the wall by the window, Jake bowed his head, drowning in the undertow of emotion. His jaw worked, his hand flexing and shaking against the plaster.

  “I have to leave, to get her out of here,” he said, adamant. “I can’t just hand her over like she’s not my sister.”

  “Jake,” Becca tried again. “I need to go back. I have to go back.”

  He only shook his head, refusing to listen. “I won’t let you go back there, Becca, no matter what you want. I’m getting you out of here.”

  I froze. He’s leaving. I glared at his back, but feeling his misery, my anger quickly subsided. “We can figure something—”

  “Stop!” He pulled his arm back and slammed his fist into the wall, denting it. “There’s nothing to figure out. My sister will not be used as a pawn.” His face fell. He leaned back and brought his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

  He’s already made up his mind. Instantly, I started to question everything about Jake and me…about us. My reservations from the first time I met him—the first time he saved me, opened his mouth, and pushed me away—flared to life, and I chided myself for being so naïve. I knew something like this would happen.

  The questions jumped off my tongue before I could contain them. “What about D
ani? What about me? You’re just going to leave?”

  When he didn’t respond, reality burst overhead like a looming storm cloud, clearing away the fog that had settled in my heart and mind. How could I have been so stupid?

  The conversation we’d had on the dock back in St. Louis resurfaced from under a month’s worth of foolhardy emotions. Jake’s words replayed in my mind.

  “For whatever reason, I know you don’t want to let me in…or maybe you just don’t know how…what are you afraid of?”

  This. This fucking feeling of inexplicable loss was what I’d been afraid of—the living lump of hysteria swelling in my throat, the desperation in my heart. I couldn’t swallow it away.

  Biting the inside of my cheek as hard as possible, I willed myself to calm down. Keep it together, Zoe.

  Jake strode past me to Becca, pulling her up to her feet.

  Lunging at him, I pushed against his chest as hard as I could. “You’re leaving?” He stumbled away from Becca, and I pushed him again. “You’re going to kill Dani!” I shoved against his shoulder. “You’re going to kill us all if you take her!” I smacked his chest. “I won’t let you ruin everything.” I won’t let you break my heart! I pushed, shoved, and slapped him again and again. “You son of a bitch!”

  Jake gripped my arms, immobilizing me and forcing me to look up at him. His eyebrows lifted with sympathy…or is it sorrow? I was too upset to differentiate between his emotions and mine.

  “Let go,” I warbled.

  As he opened his mouth to speak, a gunshot cracked through the air and Jake yanked me down to the floor.

  8

  DANI

  MARCH 16, 1AE

  Pine needles pricked my bare arms as I wandered through a shadowy forest. Towering redwoods and lodgepole pines shaded me from an unusually hot summer sun and saved my skin from burning. Luckily, the underbrush was sparse, consisting of scattered ferns and low, scraggly shrubs which didn’t hinder my steps.

  A sudden, loud rustle sounded off to my left. I paused mid-stride, wondering if I’d disturbed a rabbit, or possibly a deer, but when I peered in the direction of the noise, nothing moved between the thick, mossy trunks. I resumed my steady pace. The only noise was the crunching of twigs and dry pine needles underfoot…until I heard the sound again, closer and off to my right.

  I snapped my head around, searching. I caught a glimpse of black near the ground before whoever—or whatever—had made the noise disappeared behind a redwood at least forty yards away.

  “Hello?” I called. “Is someone there?” What if it’s a bear? Oh God, I hope not! I couldn’t remember the rules for confronting a bear—was I supposed to stare it down, avoid eye contact, or make myself big and loud? Fat chance there, I thought. Loud I could do, but big was so far outside of my wheelhouse, it was in a different country.

  For minutes I heard nothing but wind, the sounds of birds chirping, and small creatures scurrying through the branches overhead.

  “Is someone there?” I called again, trying to keep my voice steady. Adrenaline flooded my body, doing its best to convince me to turn and flee.

  From nowhere specific, a man whispered, “Dani.” My name bounced around between the tree trunks, repeating and gaining strength. Not a bear…a person. Should I be relieved? I wasn’t.

  “Where are you?” I screeched, spinning around and frantically searching for the speaker among the trees. “Who are you?”

  I spotted the black thing again and realized it was a boot. Before it disappeared behind a thick redwood twenty yards ahead of me, I glimpsed the rest of the man it was attached to. He was tall, and his jeans and black t-shirt did nothing to hide his powerful build. Too soon, he was gone, hidden by the trees.

  “Hey! Where are you going? How do you know my name?” I tried to yell, though it came out strained and breathy. I jogged to the tree he’d disappeared behind, but by the time I rounded its monstrous girth, there was no one to find.

  “Red,” he called out from everywhere and nowhere. Again, the single word echoed off the endless forest of tree trunks. The rich sound of his voice made my heart swell in longing.

  Hearing the rustle of dried sticks and pine needles directly behind me, I spun. For once, the man didn’t hide.

  He was larger than I’d first thought, about a foot taller than me. His dark hair was cropped close, and sapphire-blue eyes glowed in a handsome, angular face. Every plane and ridge was precise, almost severe, making him equally harsh and beautiful. Jason? He wasn’t alone.

  From behind the trunks on either side of him, a handful of people emerged. A slender, raven-haired woman whose jewel-blue eyes were almost identical to Jason’s.

  “Zo,” I breathed.

  I scanned the rest of the faces. A blonde woman with kind features. A teenage boy with dark hair, tan skin, and haunted eyes. A young Asian man whose lips were curled into a playful smirk. A middle-aged man sporting an impressive mountain-man beard. A beautiful young woman whose face was contorted by a haughty sneer. They all felt so familiar, like their names were on the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t recognize any of them.

  “Why are you following me?” I whispered.

  One side of Jason’s mouth quirked slightly upward, and a barely-there dimple appeared on his cheek. He laughed, the sound rough and baritone. “You need to remember.”

  “Remember,” the others echoed in a ghostly chorus. It was more than a little creepy.

  “I need you to come back to me, Red,” Jason added.

  “Why are you calling me that?”

  He turned and began walking away. The others followed a step behind him.

  “Wait!” I called after them. I didn’t want to be left alone in the forest. I tried to follow, but shrubs appeared around my sneakers, tripping me with each attempted step. “Don’t leave me! Jason! Zo!”

  “Wake up, Dani,” someone said. A hand was on my shoulder, shaking me gently.

  “No,” was my genius response. I rolled onto my side, away from the offending human alarm clock. Gabe.

  He laughed softly. “You weren’t supposed to fall asleep.”

  I flopped onto my back and glared up at him through sleep-swollen eyelids. “You weren’t supposed to let me fall asleep.”

  Gabe sighed, a deep, mournful sound. It was very dramatic. “True, but you were getting far too cranky.” He didn’t sound the least bit repentant.

  I scowled. “What if I’d been hemorrhaging in my brain? What if I’d died in my sleep because you didn’t want to deal with my crankiness? What if—”

  His laugh was full and slightly booming. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry. I was far too careless with your life. I’m so sorry. Will you ever forgive me?”

  “I’ll think about it,” I told him. “Now, let me go back to sleep. I’m obviously not going to slip into a coma.” Turning my head away from him, I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to return to dreamland. I felt like I’d been having the strangest dream, and for some reason, I desperately wanted to return to it.

  “Can’t do that,” Gabe said. “You’re coming with me to work today.”

  Groaning into my pillow, I mumbled, “Can’t you just let me go back to sleep instead?”

  “No can do.” The bed bounced as he stood. “If you get ready, I’ll make you breakfast. You like pancakes?”

  I stiffened, suddenly salivating. Pancakes. How long has it been since I’ve had pancakes? “Throw in some bacon and you’ve got deal,” I said, sounding way too excited. If I was being honest with myself, he had me at “pancakes.”

  “I think I can manage that.”

  Entering Gabe’s lab was like walking into Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory, but for science fanatics, which I’m not. Thanks to my linguistics studies, I prefer tangling with syntax and semantics rather than compounds and cellular structures, but even so, the room was still awe-inspiring. Each consecutive counter in the long room was filled with more fantastical and majestic equipment, and each machine, with its shiny baubles and crystal-cle
ar lenses, screamed of wonder and amazing discoveries. I brushed my fingertips over the scope of something that looked like the lovechild of a telescope and a machine gun.

  “Please don’t touch that,” Gabe said.

  Okay… “So, this is your lab,” I noted as we passed by counters filled with meticulously arranged high-tech devices, glass containers, and yellow notepads.

  “Yep.”

  “You’re in charge of the whole thing?”

  “Uh, yeah,” he responded, smoothing his blond hair against his scalp—it was pulled back into his usual low ponytail, the few inches of gathered hair fanning neatly down the back of his neck.

  “What exactly is it that you’re in charge of?” Even if there were a gun held to my head, I couldn’t have guessed the purpose of most of the obviously priceless equipment.

  Gabe shot a quick look over his shoulder as he led the way down an aisle between two counters. “I’m in charge of the Ability Research Department.”

  “That sounds important.”

  “It is.”

  “Wow, you’ve really got that whole humility thing down, huh?” I said, shaking my head. As I scanned around the lab—the unoccupied lab—I frowned. There were three rows of work counters and dozens of stools, but no scientists. “Where are all of your worker bees? I mean, I’m assuming someone with such an ‘important’ job has a handful of science slaves, but this place is totally empty.”

  He unlocked a taupe fire door. “I told them to work on their other projects this morning.” At my cocked head, he added, “We don’t have enough scientifically-inclined people to devote a large number of them to one department alone…even if it is the most important department.”

  “Seriously, Gabe?” I asked, swatting his forearm. “Get over yourself already, you’re not that amazing.” Like a battering ram, the déjà vu hit me again, nearly knocking me breathless. I hunched over, gasping.

  “Dani? What’s wrong? Is it your head?” Gabe asked in a rush. He held my elbow in a gentle but strong grip and led me through the doorway to a worn couch in one corner of what could only be his office. The room was a mixture of neatness and clutter that was purely Gabe, and it held the faintest trace of his clean scent.

 

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