Cece cried genuinely and reached out to touch Jason’s hand. “But Jase, I—”
“GET OUT!” he roared.
She did.
In the ringing silence, John surprised everyone by saying, “You can watch Cece all you want, but I’ll be watching that one.” His finger pointed straight to my heart. He walked out of the room, pausing in the doorway to gloat. “I hope you enjoy looking at what you can’t have anymore. Cece’s with me now. She chose me.” And then he was gone.
Hunter took a single step toward the exit to follow his friend but didn’t complete the action. He turned to meet Jason’s eyes and then mine. “I…I’m sorry,” he apologized weakly. “She lied. Said you attacked her for no reason. I don’t know you very well, but I do know her—I should’ve known better. I assumed the worst of you, and I’m sorry. I…I hope someday you can forgive me.” He hurried out of the room.
Shutting the door, Chris said conversationally, “Well, I thought that might actually end in a fight. Can you imagine? Our merry little band of travelers would completely collapse…there’d be blood…probably some of us would die…”
Ignoring her, Jason squatted down in front of me. “Why don’t you lay down in here and try to get some sleep? It’s just after midnight, and Chris and I still have some work to do, so…,”…we’ll be here…we’ll look out for you, hung unsaid.
In the background, Chris continued talking to herself. “…At least four of the men’ve had their eyes on Cece…I wonder how many she’ll have believing her by morning…could be difficult though…divide us further…”
“Really? I mean, um…okay,” I said, accepting Jason’s offer with relief. I really didn’t want to be alone.
As Jason and Chris resettled at the little table in the far corner, I curled up on top of the bed’s quilt, dangling my hand over the edge to rub Jack’s scruff.
An hour later I was still awake, silent tears sliding across my face. I’d been crying long enough for my pillow to grow noticeably damp. What would I do if our roles were reversed? What if Cece had caused a delay that kept me from getting to Zoe in time? What if Zoe had been murdered?
I’d blame her. I knew it for truth the second I thought it. Guilt seemed to wrap around me, heavy and constrictive. It’s my fault.
I tried to remain quiet, but the tears grew more insistent, demanding the participation of my whole body.
A chair creaked in the opposite corner of the room. “No,” I heard Jason murmur. “I got it. Let’s call it a night.”
There was the scratch of chair legs on the floor, a dozen muffled steps, and the groan of the mattress depressing behind me. Remotely, I registered the sound of the door and figured Chris had left the room.
Softly, Jason touched my arm. “You okay?”
I could feel his heat radiating near my back. With only the thin blanket as cover, I was cold. It had taken the suggestion of Jason’s warmth for me to notice.
I shook my head and managed to croak, “It’s my fault Kasey’s dead,” before silent, convulsive sobs overtook me completely.
“It’s not your fault,” Jason whispered fiercely. “Cece should blame herself. She could’ve gone straight to Portland, but she chose to follow me. I’d decided to go after you hours before we left, and she knew it…and dammit, Dani, I’d make the same decision every time if it meant you’d survive.”
I cried harder.
In a heartbeat, Jason’s arms were around me, his body curled behind mine. I could feel his breath rustling my mussed curls as he promised, “She won’t touch you again. I won’t let her.”
Finally, warmth! I thought ecstatically as he held me tightly against him. Once again, I felt like I was in the protective embrace of a warrior—vengeful and fearsome. Slowly, my sobs died down, and I fell asleep.
~~~~~
When I woke, the pale light of the December morning poured through lacy curtains, illuminating a white-washed dresser and rickety oak table on the opposite side of the room. I was nestled against Jason’s relaxed body—my head rested on his chest and my arm draped haphazardly across his middle. His heart beat loudly beneath my ear, far too rapidly for someone still sleeping. One of his arms was hooked around my back, allowing his hand to grasp my waist. The other moved gently as he twirled one of my stray crimson curls. At some point during the chilly night he had covered us both with an antique patchwork quilt.
Oh. My. God. I’m cuddling with Jason! Umm…uh… My thoughts faded to incoherency as I pretended I was one of the women Jason truly desired, not just one he comforted out of pity.
I hesitantly looked up at him, and as soon as our eyes met, the tranquil expression slid off his face. He didn’t know I was awake, I noted, disappointed. He was probably imagining I was someone else, too.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked softly. The handsome face gazing at me could have been carved from marble for all of the emotion it showed.
I nodded.
Seconds later, Jason extracted himself from our tangled position, and I was suddenly cold and alone on the bed. “Well, um,” he said gruffly, “we should get ready.” He disappeared out the bedroom door, letting Chris slide in.
“I see you’re up,” she said, and the day began.
Date: December 19, 8:00 AM
From: Danielle O’Connor
To: Zoe Cartwright
Subject: Drama, drama, and more drama!
Hi Zo,
So, wow…you’ve got some visitors. Do you think you’ll all stay together? I’m glad you have some more people to interact with. I know you were getting pretty frustrated with Dave. And they’re military people so they can do a really good job of keeping you safe. That makes me super happy!
Okay, I’ve got a lot to tell you, but I don’t have much time. I apologize in advance for the potential incoherency of this email.
First, Cece sort of attacked me last night while I was sleeping. She seems to think that, along with killing her sister, I’m out to take Jason away from her. Too bad for her, he’s already gone. Not that he’s with me…he’s just not with her. Ha!
Anyway, John is apparently her boy toy now, and he jumps at her every whim. Since he woke this morning, he’s been trying to convince members of our group to blame me for pretty much every death not caused by the virus. He and Cece have managed to sway a few other guys to their way of thinking. She’s eerily good at manipulating people...well, guys mostly. Maybe she trades them sexual favors or something?
K, I know you tend to get weirded out when I gush about your brother…which is understandable, but you’re the only best friend I’ve got (lucky you!), so suck it up and listen. Yeah, umm…Jason slept with me. I mean, like sleep slept. I was crying, he comforted me, and then we just fell asleep. Really, NOTHING happened. Just cuddling, I promise. Though my stomach does get kind of fluttery when I think about it. But that’s bad, right? I mean, so soon after Cam? Besides, wanting Jason means almost certain misery—he’s like a Venus Flytrap for women. You can stop gagging now…
Also man-related, there’s a mysterious guy who keeps showing up in my horrible Cam dreams...and he sort of kissed me before I woke up last night. I didn’t mean for it to happen. Oh my God, why am I even talking about this—he’s not real!
My thoughts are too chaotic…I need you to tell me what the hell is going on in my head. How could I possibly dream of kissing some strange man when Cam has barely been gone for 10 days? How could I even consider being excited about cuddling with another guy? What the hell is wrong with me? I loved Cam! I know I did—I still do! Agghhhh! I miss you and need your amazing insight. Like, a lot.
Ciao,
Dani
16
ZOE
Date: December 19, 11:00 AM
From: Zoe Cartwright
To: Danielle O’Connor
Subject: I’m telling Dave tonight and Cece is a BITCH
Hey D,
First of all, I really want to beat the shit out of Cece. Just thinking about her makes me want to
punch something. Got a picture and some darts? It could be therapeutic...I’m just saying.
Oh, and under NO circumstances should you be held responsible for anyone’s death, D. No matter what Cece or any of her tools say. I’m so frustrated that you’re even in this situation. Nothing that’s happened in this goddamn apocalypse is your fault! Trust me.
As for helping you interpret your chaotic feelings, I’m not sure what I can do. I know you loved Cam, so I can’t even imagine how difficult it is for you to be away from him. I’m sure the fact that he never liked Jason makes all of this even harder. But, I also know you’ve always had feelings for Jason. It doesn’t surprise me that you’re battling feelings for him now. You’re only human, D. I say just go with the flow. Just be careful. I know that probably isn’t very helpful. And kissing this MG (mystery guy)? Well, you gotta get action somewhere (kidding). I wouldn’t worry too much about it. It is just a dream.
Unlike the soap opera you’re starring in, there’s nothing too crazy going on over here. Sarah and Biggs are batting eyes at each other, and Sanchez and Harper are hard at work mapping out a route to Fort Knox. Apparently, we’re headed to Kentucky, and yes, I said “we.” We’ve decided to stick together, and I’m really happy about it. Anyway, Sanchez thinks there are more military personnel there and that it would be a good idea to team up with them.
On the Dave front…he’s still ignoring me. The bitchy side of me wants to say “screw you, get over yourself,” but I need to patch things up with him. If I don’t, I know I’ll regret it later. It’s not like I have a plethora of friends and can afford to burn bridges. I’ve decided I’m going to talk to him today. I just have to wait for the right time, whenever that might be. I’m not really looking forward to it…at all. I’ll keep you posted. Wish me luck! This could turn out really good or REALLY bad.
Remember to keep Jack with you at all times, and stay away from Cece. SHE’S THE DEVIL!
Hasta,
Zoe
After taking my third shot in an hour, I could feel liquid courage seeping its way into my body. As Harper dealt a fifth hand of poker to Sarah and me, I tried not to think about how Dave would react when I told him the truth about what was wrong with me. I wasn’t sure if I wanted the others to know about my strange ability, and I wondered if he would tell them.
What if they banish me from the group? I was probably over-thinking everything, but I couldn’t help it. Booze tended to jump start my dramatic tendencies.
I’d planned on confronting Dave right after I woke, but the potential repercussions had frightened me into silence. Not sure what to do, I’d turned to one of the bottles of Tequila we’d hidden from Dave. I’d needed to settle my nerves, knowing the talk would happen sooner rather than later.
Part of me pondered the probability that he would be disgusted or think I was a liar. But another part of me—the enlightened, drunk Zoe—was sure he’d gather me into his arms and tell me we’d figure out what was happening together. I wanted him to tell me everything would be okay.
Tossing the playing cards onto the coffee table in victory, I pulled my right leg into my chest and rested my chin on my knee. My insides were warm and coated with temporary liberation.
“You win again, my raven-haired friend.” Harper winked at me and excused himself to grab another drink.
As I worked up the nerve to talk to Dave, I recalled the many times he’d come to my rescue. Not just in my weakest moments, but by being my friend and confidant in Dani’s absence. Dave had picked me up and taken care of me after my wisdom teeth had been removed. He’d given me tickets to the Smithsonian after my first exhibit opening, and he’d taken me to the National Arboretum to see the redwoods; I’d always missed them, being away from home.
Although cocky and self-centered, Dave was a good guy, and remembering his kindness gave me the fortitude to tell him everything. Right now, I rallied.
He’d limped his way outside moments before, and if I didn’t act fast, I would miss my opportunity to be alone with him. Standing from my warm perch by the fire, I stumbled slightly before catching myself on the arm of the sofa. Harper’s arm found its way around my shoulders, holding me upright. Wide-eyed, I looked up at him, wondering what his strong hands might feel like on the small of my back.
I shook my head.
“You okay, Baby Girl?” His eyes darkened as we both considered our proximity. Baby Girl, again? I tried to be annoyed, but I was lost in his asking eyes.
I’m drunk. I smiled and straightened myself. “Yeah, I just stood up too fast. Thanks.”
Inching backward to remove myself from his enticing hold, I continued toward the front door. I could still feel the heat of Harper’s gaze as I walked away, but he said nothing.
“Where’re you going?” Sanchez inquired as she stepped out from the hallway. Her hair was down, and she wore a tank top and sweatpants. I was surprised by how normal she looked without the formality of her uniform.
I nodded toward the front door. “Dave’s outside. I thought I’d check on him.”
“Dave isn’t using his cane…maybe you should,” she said dryly and walked away. Was that a joke? I couldn’t believe it.
Readying myself for the blistering cold, I approached the front door. I stuffed my too-long hair into the neck of my pullover, pulled up my hood, and added a black scarf for good measure. Grabbing ear muffs and a blanket, I opened the door.
The cold air was icy against my face, but the alcohol that flowed through my body still warmed my insides. The night was dark and quiet. If it were a clear night back home, Dani would’ve come over to watch for shooting stars and make wishes about boys. But that seemed like a lifetime ago.
Trying to stay on course, I scanned the shadows for Dave. He was right where I’d expected him to be, sitting in an old rocking chair at the far side of the porch and brooding. As I moved to sit in the chair beside him, his eyes remained fixed on the blackness that swallowed the landscape around us.
I shuddered as the cold snuck into my warm cocoon of clothing. “It’s freezing. What’re you doing out here?”
“Getting some air,” was all he said.
We sat in silence for a moment. I craned my neck to look out beyond the porch awning at the twinkling stars.
“I’m sorry about the other night, Dave. I didn’t mean to—”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said sharply.
“Well you have to,” I snapped back. “You’re barely speaking to me. I think you’ve said three words to me all day, and only because you had to.”
I watched him, expecting a denial or an explanation, but no words came.
“Look, you’re upset with me, and I understand why. I just need you to know what’s going on with me.” Everything after that came out in a rush. I knew it was going to sound insane to him regardless of my delivery, so I let the words flow before I chickened out.
“Something’s happening to me. I know you’re going to think I’m crazy—that’s why I haven’t told you until now. But you need to know why I pushed you away.” I paused for a response, but he pretended to ignore me, so I continued, “I’ve been feeling weird lately. I get these strange feelings when I’m around people. It’s like a rush of sensations and images, but they’re not mine. It’s so unbelievable I don’t even know how to explain it. I don’t want it to happen, but I can’t help it. I can’t control it at all.” Uneasiness gnawed at me, but I tried to calm myself.
Hearing my own words, I wasn’t surprised to see I’d gained his full attention. He was staring at me, his hazel eyes like black holes in the darkness.
Finally, I thought. “When I touch you, I see things. They’re memories, I guess, in your mind. And I can feel what you’re feeling. When we were in the bedroom the other night, I saw myself in your mind, and…it was just too much.”
In the shadows, Dave looked like a statue, expressionless and completely devoid of life. Gone were the cocky grin and charming glint in his eyes.
�
�Are you going to say something?” I snapped. You make me want to scream!
Just as I was about to, he said, “Are you telling me you can read minds? That you’ve read my mind?” His voice was thick with disbelief, and he laughed at me. “All this time I was dating a psychic,” he joked.
“Don’t be an ass, Dave. It’s more of a feeling, and it just started happening. I can’t predict the future or anything.”
The relief of finally telling someone made me want to cry tears of joy, but the fact that it was Dave and that he was being a dick made me regret my decision. I was fearful of what might happen next. In the palpable silence, I could hear my heartbeat quicken with dread.
Oh my God. Dani was wrong. I shouldn’t have told him. This isn’t what I expected. I don’t know what I expected. I should’ve told Sarah. He’s going to tell everyone. They’ll leave me here!
“Dave?” I leaned toward him cautiously, realizing drinking in preparation hadn’t been the best idea. The alcohol made me feel out of control and paranoid. Stop it, Zoe. You’ll be fine. Just lie and say you’re drunk and don’t know what came over you. Somewhat satisfied with the idea, I took a deep breath and said, “Never mind. I’m drunk. Don’t mind me. You were right; I really just don’t have any feelings—”
The Ending Series: The Complete Series Page 12