The Ending Series: The Complete Series

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  Suddenly, a rank-smelling hand was over my mouth, and hot, foul breath brushed my ear. “Pretty girl,” he said, and he most certainly wasn’t Jason. My already increased heart rate spiked. “Wanna have some fun?”

  A gunshot cracked from another part of the house, and the man momentarily loosened his grasp on my face. Sensing my only chance, I shifted and bit down on the meaty flesh between his thumb and index finger until blood oozed into my mouth. I gagged on its warmth, on its metallic taste.

  Shrieking, the man shoved me away, and I fell off the couch…but not before my fingers closed around the handgun I’d stowed between the cushion and the couch back. I’d finally learned my lesson—guns stay within arm’s reach, always.

  Stumbling, I extricated myself from the blankets and stood, aiming my gun at the repulsive intruder. I spat as much of his blood from my mouth as possible, terrified by what diseases it might be carrying. Almost as alarming was the familiarity of his face—Mr. Monk—he’d been a teacher at my high school, alongside Mr. Grayson. He’d taught PE and had a well-deserved reputation as a pervert, at least among the girls. A large group of his female students had eventually gone to the principal and then to the police, and Mr. Monk had been charged with multiple counts of molestation. Last I’d heard, he was still in prison.

  “Bitch!” Mr. Monk howled, clutching his bleeding hand to his chest.

  “You have no idea,” I growled and fired the pistol. The bullet impacted his shoulder, twisting him to the side. Without hesitation, I pulled the trigger again. The second bullet shot straight through his temple, and he collapsed to the floor, his head hitting the hardwood with a heavy, wet thunk.

  Lowering the gun, I spat again, spraying pink saliva in his direction, and hissed, “Asshole!” Anger was all that kept me from crying. Screaming. Puking.

  “Dani! Are you okay?” Jason shouted, his voice preceding his arrival. As he ran into the room, I heard more gunshots elsewhere in the house. Jack followed him in, hurrying to my feet and whining pathetically.

  As Jason’s eyes landed on the crumpled heap on the floor, he froze. Cautiously, he moved closer to the dead man and stared at his hemorrhaging head. “Is that Mr. Monk?”

  I wiped my mouth with the back of my wrist. “Yeah. I—I killed him,” I said weakly, beginning to shake. Mr. Monk was the second man I’d killed in less than a week, and my psyche was having some not-so-minor issues avoiding the reality of my actions.

  I’m a killer.

  Jason shifted his intense, blue eyes to my face. “Did he…touch you? Did he hurt you?” When I didn’t respond, he closed the distance and grabbed me by the shoulders. “Dani!”

  Tearing my eyes away from the oozing mound of lumpy, bloody gore that had once been the side of Mr. Monk’s head, I whispered, “Not this time.” I just wished I could stop shaking, stop remembering.

  “What do you—” Jason’s mouth fall open. His eyes widened, and he searched my face for answers, his throat convulsing rhythmically. He tried twice to speak before words actually formed. “You were one of them…one of the girls he…?”

  I looked away, disgusted and ashamed. “Yeah. But I was a lot luckier than the others. Zo…she found me in his office before he could get his pants down. She knew I had a meeting with him about my grades.” I laughed bitterly. “Grades. What a joke. I thought I was going to suffocate with his hand over my mouth. I couldn’t fight him off. I was too weak…too small. I don’t know what she did—I could only see the wall—but one second he was there and I could barely breathe, and the next, Zo was hauling me out of his office while I cried in her arms. Mr. Monk said he’d kill us if we told.”

  “I didn’t know.” Jason’s voice was tight, restrained.

  “Nobody did…except Zo, the other girls, the principal, and the police. It was hard to keep Grams from finding out.” I shook my head. “So hard. I didn’t want to tell anyone, but Zo made me. She said his threat was empty. She said that if enough girls got together and told the truth about him, he’d go away and never hurt anyone again.” I looked at the dead man and smiled. When I spoke, my voice was cold. “Now he’s dead.”

  Jason pressed his fingers against my jaw and gently turned my face back to his. “Why’s your mouth bloody? Did he hit you?”

  “I bit him.” I snatched a water bottle off of the coffee table, took a swig, swished the water around in my mouth, and spat the mouthful into the fire. I did it three times. “I can’t get rid of the taste of his blood.”

  Without hesitation, Jason clamped his hands on the sides of my head and kissed me, hard, giving me something else to focus on. His touch and his taste drove the unhappy memories from my mind. He was the perfect distraction, and I could tell he was desperate to help me forget.

  “Fuck!” he growled, breaking contact and taking a step back. “He deserved a slower death. Fucking bastard!”

  When I took a step toward Jason, he held out his hand. “We’re leaving tonight. As soon as possible. Change into something warmer.” His eyes scanned my body, taking in my pajamas—cotton shorts and a tank top. “Something much warmer…and get your things together.”

  “What? We’re leaving? But we’re not ready! We don’t even have a saddle for Mr. Grayson,” I said without a breath’s pause.

  “He can use Dalton’s shit. We have to leave. They’ll come back with more.”

  “But Dalton—”

  “He’s dead,” Jason said harshly.

  “Oh.” I hadn’t been close to Dalton, but I could feel tears suddenly welling in my eyes. “Turn around,” I said unsteadily and waited until Jason obeyed to swap my pajamas for a bra, sweater, long underwear, and jeans.

  “What about everyone else?” I asked, zipping my jeans. I hope they’re okay…

  “They’re alive. What do you need to pack?” Jason was walking around the room, picking up the various possessions I’d strewn about. It was remarkable how much I’d settled in since I’d only been staying there for a little over a week.

  “It’s fine. I can take care of my own stuff. Go get your things together,” I told him, setting my hiking pack on the couch.

  Jason shook his head and handed me my journal. “I’m not leaving you alone,” he told me.

  “Jason, I—”

  “No!” Very carefully, he repeated, “I’m not leaving you alone.”

  For a few long seconds we stared at each other, chests rising and falling heavily. It felt like a magnetic force connected our eyes, preventing us from looking away. Finally, I cleared my throat and nodded.

  Together, Jason and I packed all of my belongings and then his before heading out to the stable. As the first to arrive, we began saddling eight of the horses for riding and the rest as pack animals. We currently had fifteen horses, including the handful we’d gathered into our herd over the last few days from nearby farms and ranches. We fit the goats with dog collars and leashes, unwilling to leave them behind—the protein from their milk would be an invaluable nutrient once scavenging for food became less reliable. As the others arrived, we added their backpacks to ours on the riderless horses. It was a hurried, late night job that would require a lot of rearranging in the morning, especially considering all of the supplies and equipment we still needed to gather as we traveled.

  Once everyone was packed and had mounted their horses, we assembled in a misshapen circle in the driveway. Nudging his mount forward, the same chestnut brown Thoroughbred he’d ridden earlier that day, Jason addressed the group. “We’ve lost Dalton. He fought until the end, giving us the warning we needed to survive the attack. We all owe him our lives.”

  Everyone but Holly nodded gravely. She just stared ahead with empty eyes. They’d been close friends, she and Dalton.

  “When we have a night to rest, we’ll honor his memory.” Jason paused, meeting the eyes of each individual. “We’re heading east. It’ll be hard, but you all know that. Some of us have new, unique skills—Abilities.” He looked at Chris, Ky, Ben, and finally, me. “And others may be ab
le to do things we’ve yet to discover. We have to use every advantage. Ky will lead us, paying attention to the feel of the path ahead, and Dani will be in constant communication with the animals around us. If either of them says stop, you stop. If they say get down, you get the fuck down. Understood?”

  Everyone murmured or nodded their assent.

  “Alright, we’re pairing up for the duration of the journey. Anytime you leave the immediate vicinity of the group, you will let your partner know, or better yet, bring them with you.” He studied each of us, then said, “Let’s go with Hunter and Holly, Ben and Ky, Daniel and Chris, and Dani, you’re with me.”

  It took me a moment to remember that Daniel was Mr. Grayson’s first name.

  “Any last questions before we head out?” When everyone shook their heads, Jason said, “Today’ll be long, so save your strength whenever possible. Ky, lead on.”

  ~~~~~

  “You feel different,” Ky said, sitting in the chair opposite me. I’d settled in what had been a private dining room, soothed by its rich brown wood, creamy walls, and burgundy carpet. Jason had left me alone in the isolated room to write in my journal while he washed up.

  Apparently modeled after a French chateau, the winery was filled with ivory marble floors, rich mahogany furniture, and crystal light fixtures. The main tasting room—a vast chamber with a two-story-high ceiling and ornately carved tables of various sizes—had become our “camp” for the night. Nobody seemed overly interested in privacy after what happened the previous night, instead opting to share one big room.

  I eyed Ky. “Um…thanks?”

  He grinned. “Anytime. But really…you feel like a bomb that’s been diffused. Before, you just felt like a bomb.”

  “Okay…why are you ‘feeling’ me exactly?”

  Leaning forward, Ky rested his elbows on the table. “Jason’s orders. Everyone gets checked out by Chris and me. Making sure nobody’s losing it.”

  “I’m not losing it.”

  “So you say.” Ky cocked his head to the side like he was trying to hear the words of a barely audible song. “Huh…that’s interesting.”

  “What?” Knowing he was listening to what could best be described as my emotional volatility was starting to creep me out.

  “Nothing really—it’s just that Jason felt similar,” he said, letting his eyes refocus on me. They held a mischievous glint.

  “Ky…,” I warned.

  His mouth tensed as he tried not to smile. “It’s about time!”

  “We are so not talking about this!” I scooted my chair backward, planning to flee. My sex life was not about to become a topic of public conversation.

  “Do us all a favor and get it over with.”

  Before I could stand, hands were on my shoulders, holding me firmly in place. “Get what over with?” Chris asked from directly behind me, and I groaned.

  Ky said nothing; instead, his grin widened.

  “Oh, got it…seriously!” Chris agreed. Out of nowhere, she asked, “Have your nightmares stopped?”

  Her question threw me off balance, and I’d already been teetering between furious blushes and outrage. “Uh, yeah. A few nights ago.”

  “Good. There’s a bit of a difference here…and here,” she said softly. I sensed a ghostly nudge inside my head with each “here”. It was the first time I’d actually felt her Ability at work, though I knew she’d had a huge part in helping me deal with losing Cam.

  “Do you mind!” I yelped. I grasped my head and shook it wildly in a futile attempt to block her meddling.

  “Oh, sorry, hon. Didn’t know you could feel that.” At least she had the decency to sound slightly embarrassed. “Though I wonder what this part does; it’s sort of pulsing…hmmm…”

  Along with another nudge in my mind, my body instantly heated and blood collected in several specific areas. “Chris!” I squealed, horrified.

  Laughing raucously, she let go of my shoulders. “I thought it might be that. You should probably go find someone to help take care of your new problem.”

  “That wasn’t even a little bit okay!” I huffed, stalking from the room.

  I seriously considered ambushing Jason and getting it over with, but even in my unnaturally aroused state, I was just too exhausted. I’d spent the entire fourteen-hour journey mind-hopping from animal to animal, scouting out potential dangers. We’d avoided three small bands of Crazies using the critters’ information. At the moment, I just wanted to wash up and fall asleep.

  Only Holly and Mr. Grayson, both hunched over a map at talking in hushed tones, were in the enormous tasting room when I walked in. I gathered some clean underwear, socks, sweatpants, and a t-shirt from my pack, along with my toothbrush and toothpaste, and wandered across marble entryway to the ladies’ restroom. I could hear water running in the men’s room next door and figured Jason was still in there.

  In the bathroom, I took the closest possible thing to a shower using only the sink, hand soap, and about a thousand paper towels. When I was satisfactorily clean and wearing sweats and a t-shirt, I emerged from the bathroom. Jason, lounging against the wall beside the door, reached out to snag my arm.

  Pulling me to him, he lowered his lips to mine for a deep, slow kiss. As his fingers journeyed beneath my t-shirt to tease the freshly cleaned skin at my hips, I sighed and broke our kiss, resting my head against his chest. He smelled like soap, and underneath that, like Jason.

  He smoothed down my shirt’s hem and wrapped his arms around me, making me feel like nothing could hurt me. “You’re tired.”

  I nodded against him. “Understatement of the century.”

  Jason chuckled. “Come on, I have a surprise for you.”

  “A surprise?” I asked, eagerly peering up at him. My sudden anticipation fizzled as I looked into his glittering eyes, and just for a moment, saw Zoe staring back at me. They were so different in so many ways, but their irises—a mixture of blue, teal, and green, like shallow water in the tropics—were nearly identical.

  “What’s wrong?” Jason asked, seeing my grin wither.

  “Nothing new—just worrying about Zo. What if she can’t get to Colorado? What if we can’t find her? What if she’s hurt or…or worse?”

  Pinching one of my damp curls, Jason held out the vibrant auburn spiral. “I love your hair. Always have. It’s bright, like you.” Though his words were flattering, I had no idea where he was going with them. “You and my sister—you balance each other out. She’s serious and pessimistic. But you…you see the glass half full. Use that. She’s strong. She’s fine; she has to be. Okay?”

  I closed my eyes and nodded, holding back the worried tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. Zoe’s strong. She’s okay…she has to be.

  With our fingers intertwined, we headed back into the tasting room, to a corner where tables were arranged oddly on their sides. Combined with the walls, they created an isolated, tent-sized alcove with a narrow opening near one wall.

  “Jason!” I exclaimed, laughing. “You built a fort!”

  He watched me timidly, possibly a first for him. “I thought we could sleep here…together,” he said softly, and all his shyness disappeared. “I don’t want to share you, not with anyone. Not in any way.” Oh. Wow.

  It was my turn to play bashful as I took in the two sleeping bags laid out side-by-side within the makeshift walls. “Can they be, you know, joined?” I asked, gazing up at him through my lashes.

  A slow smile spread across his face. “They already are.”

  Looking closer, I could see that the sleeping bags weren’t just next to each other, but were zipped together. Narrowing my eyes, I said, “A little presumptuous, don’t you think?”

  Jason’s smile widened into a wicked grin, and he led me by the hand into our little haven. Watching me closely, he slipped into the forest green sleeping bags. I followed, and once we were both lying down, he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer against him.

  “I want you, and I wil
l have you,” he whispered as his fingers trailed up and down my arm, giving me goose bumps. “Is that presumptuous?”

  I shook my head, smiling against his faded blue t-shirt.

  And I will have you. It was my last thought before falling asleep.

  42

  ZOE

  It was practically a miracle that we arrived at Sarah’s without a hitch. While the rest of us waited down the road under the skeletal branches of an Elm tree, Sanchez and Harper did a sweep of the house and grounds. Standing beside the van, Biggs and I gawked at the picture-perfect plantation home before us. It was ivory with black shutters, and a porch that wrapped around both the first and second stories. Due to its grandeur, I half expected to see Rhett Butler walk out between the Ionic columns and greet us in the circular drive.

  “Holy shit,” I breathed, feeling completely inadequate in jeans and a Fort Knox sweatshirt.

  “I know, right?” Sarah said as she strolled up behind Biggs and me. Crossing her arms, she stood in the space between us.

  “I didn’t know there were plantations in Missouri,” I said.

  “Well…,” Sarah said, drawing out the word. “It’s not exactly old, per se, but it is original. Daddy designed it and had it built for my mom for their tenth anniversary.”

  My eyebrows shot up with surprise. “Wow, that’s a…nice gift.”

  Biggs whistled, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him shake his head. “I know you said your parents were well-off, but I didn’t realize you meant capital R-I-C-H.”

  “Same thing.” Sarah shrugged, and I could tell she was starting to get self-conscious. “Good for us, right? We probably have everything we need in this place.”

  Sanchez and Harper finally exited through the front door, giving us a thumbs-up—the house was empty of both Crazies and rotting corpses, and we could proceed inside.

  Biggs and Sarah moved Dave’s truck up to the house while I followed in the van. As I drove through the gate and up the extended driveway, I had a better view of the grounds. They were sprawling, with hundreds of live oaks spreading over the hills beyond the house. It was obvious that the lawn and flower beds had once been perfectly manicured, but they had been neglected for weeks—the plants were withered, and the grass was overgrown.