The Ending Series: The Complete Series

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  “Choose.”

  I shook my head and backed away, but a wall sprouted up behind me, preventing my retreat. “Why do you want me to do this? You’re the one who creates them. You choose!” I didn’t want to see the face of whoever was under the makeshift shroud.

  My stomach lurched as Dr. Wesley pulled the sheet back, revealing the face of the nearest bed’s occupant.

  Zoe.

  She looked serene, like she was merely sleeping, but I knew better. She was too pale, too still. No, no, no, no, no… I couldn’t tear my gaze away from her face. “Her, I choose her!” I whispered fiercely.

  “Are you so sure?” Dr. Wesley asked. She hadn’t moved away from the side of the bed, and when I raised my eyes to meet hers, to tell her—to beg her—to make Zoe a Re-gen, to bring my best friend back to life, the breath whooshed from my lungs.

  Dr. Wesley’s jewel-blue eyes, her black hair, her bone structure—here, next to Zoe, the resemblance was impossible to miss. Dr. Wesley looked like an older version of my best friend, how I imagined Zoe would look in thirty years. “Oh my God,” I whispered. If I hadn’t known Zoe’s mom was dead, I would’ve bet my life that I was staring at her.

  Oblivious to my shock, or possibly uncaring, Dr. Wesley strode to the next bed and drew back the sheet. I wasn’t surprised when she revealed Jason’s blank face. I didn’t have room for surprise. All I felt was near-fatal heartbreak.

  “Both of them,” I said, my voice rough. “I choose both of them.” Even if the third body were Ky or Chris, I would still choose to bring back Zoe and Jason. Living in a world without Ky or Chris would be difficult and painful, but doing so without Zoe or Jason would be unbearable. They were my weakness, and I didn’t feel the least bit of shame about it.

  Dr. Wesley rounded Jason’s bed to the final of the three, and again, she drew back the sheet.

  “Oh God!” I howled, lunging toward the third bed and falling on my knees beside it.

  Cam. He was lying on the mattress, his face expressionless…peaceful, even. I glared up at the doctor, hating her for forcing me to make a choice that would stomp my heart into a bloody, meaty pulp. “Why?” I whispered, then repeated, louder, “Why? Why are you doing this? Tell me WHY!”

  “I can’t choose…you have to,” she said, her voice devoid of emotion.

  I gazed at Cam, memorizing the lines of his face. It had been so long since I’d seen those lips curved into a joyous smile, those eyes sparkling with laughter. I could see those things again…I only had to choose him. But to do that, I had to give up Zoe…or Jason. “I can’t,” I said hollowly.

  “You must.”

  “Why? Why can’t you do it?”

  She waited for me to look up before she spoke. “Because it wouldn’t be fair. Because I killed them.”

  My eyelids snapped open, and I gasped. Despite the chill pervading the house, I was covered in a sticky layer of cold sweat. I kicked off the sheets and growled. Can I hurt her? Can I make her pay? Can I kill her? For everything she’d done, it would be justice. That was undeniable. She was Kali, the destroyer of worlds…the destroyer of my world. Somehow, for some reason unknown to me, she’d created the Virus that had killed billions, including some of the people I cared about the most in the world—Callie, Cam, and Grams. Why?

  The sun had yet to show any intention of rising, so I peeked at the clock on the bedside table. It was 3:34. With the adrenaline coursing through my veins, sleeping was a non-option, and though I felt awful about making him worry, I couldn’t have an early-morning mind-convo with Jason—my Ability was still out of commission, courtesy of the electrotherapy. It was taking longer to return than Gabe had predicted.

  What it if never comes back? What if it’s weaker…broken? What if…

  I sighed as I rose from the bed, thinking darkness was the perfect cover to continue my failed explorations of three days past. Searching through the warehouses, inventorying the Colony’s supplies, would distract me from my murderous thoughts and useless fretting, at least for a little while.

  After a quick shower, I searched through the dresser and closet until I’d assembled the perfect nocturnal stealth outfit: black leggings, a black, long-sleeved t-shirt, a snug black hoodie, black socks, and black combat boots. I dressed and assessed myself in the full-length mirror hanging on the closet door, and smiled. I looked like a cat burglar. Perfect. As an afterthought, I slipped the red card’s cord over my head and tucked it beneath my sweatshirt. I didn’t like relying on something the world destroyer had given me, but I wasn’t stupid. A gift horse and all that. Plus, it carried the other item I would need—my would-be molester’s key to the warehouses. I’d stolen it before securing his sidearm; obtaining it had been half the reason I’d let him get so handsy with me in the first place.

  I considered stopping by Gabe’s house before heading over to the warehouse district, but I figured he would just try to stop me…or bribe me with pancakes. My mouth started watering and my stomach growled. Damn it! I’d forgotten to eat, and my stomach roaring like that would alert any passersby or guards to my presence as easily as me stepping in front of them, waving, and saying, “Howdy, I’m a spy!”

  Quickly, I doubled back to my house, snatched a granola bar out of the pantry, inhaled it, and then continued on my mission.

  The church that had been converted into Warehouse A was completely devoid of light as I approached. Thinking about what had almost happened in that building—as well as the kisses and touches that had happened—I felt sick to my stomach. I wanted to forget.

  Hands shaking with disgust, I yanked the key out from the neck of my sweatshirt and leaned closer to the warehouse door to unlock it. I crossed my fingers, hoping the General had changed all of the warehouse locks so that one universal key would work; with almost all of his little Colonists under his mental control, I was betting on him leaning toward uniformity and ease. After all, it wouldn’t do to have his patrols jingling along like prison wardens. I was in luck.

  I opened the door as quietly as possible, then quickly slipped inside and eased it shut, making sure to relock it. Compared to outside, the interior of the warehouse was night incarnate. Outside, the moon shone, bloated and silvery, but inside, the narrow windows admitted only long slits of light and the surrounding darkness was practically tangible. It was good for me, because my outfit blended better with the unrelenting blackness than the washed out grays of the moonlit base, but it was also annoying because my eyes required another twenty minutes to adjust to the deeper darkness.

  Sitting down beside the door, I waited…and listened…and thought.

  What am I going to do about the “world destroyer”? Should I kill her? Can I even do it? Sure, she killed my loved ones—but she also freed me from the mental hold the General had over me at great risk to herself. Gabe trusts her. He probably won’t forgive me if I hurt her. And what about Mase and Camille? What about all of the Re-gens? She’d been bringing people back to life. True, most of them were under the General’s absolute control and most of them were clueless as to their former lives, but she’d taken another huge risk with Mase and Camille. What’s her endgame? And, of course, my mind dwelled on the same question it had been turning over and over…and over. Why’d she create the Virus to begin with? Why’d she destroy the world? Why’d she kill my family…my Cam? Why?

  Amidst those troubling thoughts, I looked around and was relieved to find that my eyes had adjusted. The warehouse was still overwhelmingly dark, but my surroundings were painted in a pallet of grays and blues instead of relentless black.

  I rose and began creeping toward the first aisle of stacked crates and plastic-wrapped pallets. Nonperishables—canned goods, boxed foods, and the like—went on for four aisles. The fifth aisle contained hygiene items, as did the next three, and then I reached the back of the cavernous room. I estimated that the supplies could last the several thousand Colonists a few weeks, maybe.

  Moving to the nearest window, I removed Gabe’s map from my
sweatshirt pocket, angled it so the moonlight made it legible, and searched for my next target. I opted for Warehouse B, which was the closest and therefore safest route, and I was all about not getting caught…or ending up dead.

  Squeezing my right eye shut to preserve half of my night vision in the moonlight, I snuck back out into the night. The short, cautious trek to Warehouse B went down without running into any patrolling guards, as did the one to Warehouse C. The first contained more packaged and preserved food, and the second housed both food and medical supplies.

  As I finished up in Warehouse C, it was still full darkness, but my time was running out. I guessed I could only fit in one more stop before I had to sneak back to my house. With another moonlit glance at Gabe’s map, I decided to bypass Warehouses D and E and head straight for Warehouse F. It was the largest of the three, and also the closest to my house.

  I stuck to the cover of the bushes and trees surrounding the buildings as I made my way toward Warehouse F, doing my best to blend in with my surroundings. There was a heart-pounding moment when a patrol of four soldiers wearing yellow armbands rounded the corner of the nearest building. I had to become one with the trunk of an evergreen tree, slowly inching around it to avoid their view as they approached. Luckily, they passed without noticing me and eventually disappeared around the next corner.

  No other obstacles hindered my path, and I reached Warehouse F safely, ducking inside, easing the door shut, and heaving a huge sigh of relief. It is seriously my lucky day.

  As I stood just inside the entrance to the dark warehouse, focusing on taking slow, even breaths to calm my hyperactive nerves, I studied my new surroundings. Warehouse F looked as though it had actually been created for the function of being a warehouse—it was filled with row upon row of towering shelving units constructed of heavy steel, and each was filled with a variety of paper goods.

  A hushed noise broke the silence. Someone else was inside with me. I could just barely hear two whispering voices. There was the sound of a footstep. Too close. I reached for the doorknob, thinking I could escape and dash into some nearby shrubs before they exited after me, but they were closer than I’d anticipated.

  A monstrous figure clothed in camouflage rounded the end of the nearest aisle, and I glided into the shadows, plastering my body against the wall beside the door. If I didn’t move, if I barely breathed, whoever it was might not notice me.

  “I know what I heard, and the patrol is due any minute. Let’s get out of here,” one of them whispered.

  “No!” another hissed. “Not until you remember!”

  A second, much smaller figure emerged from the aisle in the wake of the other. It pointed, and barely audibly, it said, “I hid there, and you crouched down and spoke to me. You were so sweet, Giant.”

  Giant? Isn’t that what Camille calls Mase?

  “I don’t remember,” the other whispered.

  After a heavy sigh, there was a resigned, “Fine. What did you hear?”

  “Something. We just need to go.”

  Swallowing the baseball-sized lump in my throat, I opened my mouth and whispered, “Camille? Mase?”

  Both froze, and as one, they turned to face me.

  I took a step forward. “It’s Dani,” I said softly, then held my breath. I hope I’m right.

  The smaller figure rushed toward me on silent feet, and once it was close enough, I confirmed it really was Camille. Shakily, I exhaled and closed my eyes for a long moment.

  “What are you doing here?” she hissed. “The patrol…it’ll be here soon. Do you have any idea what they’ll do to you if they catch you in here?”

  Probably the same thing they’ll do to you.

  Mase was suddenly behind her, towering over her small form. “We have to get away from the door…they’ll be here in a few minutes.”

  “Is there another way out?” I asked.

  “No.”

  On cue, there was a clang on the other side of the door—a key being fitted into the lock.

  “Fuck! They’re early,” Mase hissed. Stealing my breath, he picked up both Camille and me.

  What the—

  He slung us over his shoulders, and jumped. We landed on one of the oversized shelving units…on the top shelf.

  Thunder resounded throughout the cavernous space and the metal shelf vibrated beneath us. Holy shit! Mase set both of us down right before the door opened and the four soldiers I’d seen earlier stepped inside. The three of us lay side by side, watching with bated breath.

  “What the hell was that?” one of the soldiers asked. When nobody responded, he commanded, “Do a sweep. Check all the back rooms. If someone’s here, I want them found.”

  As the three other soldiers fanned out, deftly waving their rifles and lights around in search of whoever had caused the noise, the leader waited by the door.

  Careful not to make a sound, Mase raised his hand to his head and tapped his fingers against his temple, and then did the same against mine. He wants me to use my telepathy? Doubtful, I concentrated, fully expecting to run into the electrified wall that had been erected in my brain and had been blocking my Ability for the past day and a half. It wasn’t there. Oh, thank God!

  “You got a plan, big guy?” I asked, astounded at the ease with which I connected to his mind. It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced, even with Jason or Dr. Wesley’s neutralizer boosting my Ability.

  He nodded minutely, and several images flashed through my mind.

  Mase leaping down to the floor like a panther and snapping a soldier’s neck before the other man could cry out.

  Camille and me quickly climbing down from the top of the shelving unit.

  The three of us sneaking through the door and running far away.

  “Can we do it without killing him?” I flicked my eyes toward the guard below.

  Mase frowned, and three more images appeared in my mind’s eye.

  Mase leaping down to the floor and putting the soldier in a choke hold until he passed out.

  The other three soldiers coming in search of the cause of their leader’s struggle.

  The soldiers finding Camille and me, and…

  I blocked the rest of his communication, not needing to see myself being killed. “Okay, I understand,” I said, resigned.

  Without waiting for further confirmation, Mase silently launched his massive body off the shelf and dropped to the floor, his landing unbelievably quiet despite the twenty-foot drop. He landed directly in front of the patrol leader and snapped his neck before the other man even knew he was in danger. Holy crap…how’s that even possible?

  As Mase eased the limp body to the floor, I couldn’t help but replay what had just happened. It had taken only a few seconds, and Mase’s unexpected grace had made the attack appear unnaturally easy. I wasn’t sure what his Ability was, exactly, but it was obviously very physical…far more so than any other I’d witnessed.

  Camille tugged on my sleeve before easing over the edge and beginning her climb down the oversized shelves. It wasn’t easy, but I followed, descending beside her. My legs and arms shook, my hands felt cramped, and my heart pounded. I beat Camille down, and as soon as Mase could reach her, watched him take hold of her hips and lower her the rest of the way to the floor. The motion was so protective, his hold so tender, that watching made my heart ache. I miss Jason.

  Mase led Camille to the door and motioned for me to follow. Shoving my loneliness away, I slipped outside behind Camille and held my breath as Mase soundlessly eased the door shut.

  19

  DANI

  MARCH 20, 1AE

  Before she and Mase had run off in the gray morning light, I’d convinced Camille to pay me a visit later that day. As I puttered around the kitchen that afternoon, making one of the two things I could actually cook—tea—I attempted to focus on the questions I wanted to ask Camille when she arrived. It was better than replaying the memory of Mase snapping the patrol leader’s neck and him falling to the cement floo
r, limp as a rag doll. I wasn’t being very successful. There were so few sane people left alive; I felt like we’d done something unforgivable in snuffing out his life.

  You did what you had to do to survive, D, Zoe’s imaginary voice said. Suck it up and move on. It’s done.

  I shook my head and laughed bitterly. My hatred for General Herodson was reaching a critical level. His mind-controlled Colony was making me do things, terrible things, and turning me into someone I didn’t want to be. Right and wrong had been blurred for a long time, but the false utopian prison was flipping them upside down. If I didn’t get out soon, I would lose it and either make a poorly planned run for freedom—and get shot—or attempt to carry out a poorly planned hit on the General…and get shot. I wasn’t a big fan of getting shot.

  A high-pitched whistle started quietly, quickly building up to a steamy scream. I let it continue, appreciating the ear-piercing distraction. At a knock at the front door, I switched off the electric burner and let the teakettle slowly return to a mostly silent state.

  “After the way you both ran off this morning, I wasn’t sure you’d really come,” I told Camille once I’d opened the door for her to come inside.

  She was standing on the welcome mat, alone, smiling a small, secret smile. Her eyes were an odd grayish color, like they’d once been hazel but had faded along with her first life.

  “Please, come in,” I said hurriedly, opening the door further. I didn’t want her to stand on the porch long enough to draw the attention of some nosy, mind-controlled neighbor.

  Camille stepped inside and looked around the entryway. She seemed eager, of all things, her eyes hungrily devouring the furnishings, decor, and layout of the house.