The Ending Series: The Complete Series

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  I did as she asked, leaning in so all she had to do was whisper. Dread solidified in my stomach when I noticed that her nose wasn’t the only thing bleeding. Less intensely, but no less frightening, blood leaked from her ears as well. Does that mean her brain is bleeding…like Frank’s?

  “I had to let go. I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Let go? It’s fine, Camille.” I hadn’t noticed the tears leaking from my eyes until a sob bubbled up from my chest. “We did it…we made it out. We’re gonna be okay…you’re gonna be okay.”

  She smiled, and her gaze shifted to the man stroking her dark hair with intimate delicacy. “Giant?”

  “Yeah?” Mase’s voice was hoarse.

  “I have to tell you something…come here.”

  Mase leaned over her, turning his ear to her lips. I could see her jaw moving, but her words were too faint to hear. Mase’s eyebrows drew down, and he frowned as she spoke, but when she was done, his face hardened with resolve. He nodded and pulled away.

  Camille’s eyes didn’t leave him as she mouthed, “I love—” Abruptly they rolled back into her skull, and her mouth formed a small “O.” Her body starting jerking violently.

  “Hold her down!” Harper exclaimed, securing her legs. “She’s seizing!”

  Someone nudged me out of the way with careful forcefulness. Jason, I realized as I scooted off to the side, only to have Carlos crouch down and wrap a sturdy arm around me. Huddling together, we watched as Jason helped Gabe restrain Camille’s shoulders while Chris sat astride her, holding down her midsection, and Mase cradled her head. I’d never felt so useless.

  Almost as suddenly as they started, the tremors ceased. Camille was absolutely motionless. The others froze in place, seeming to hold their breath.

  “Is she…breathing?” I choked out. Shock had interrupted my tears, but the sorrow swelled anew in my chest. I did this…this is my fault…I asked her to…it’s my fault…

  “No pulse,” Harper said. He’d reached up to her wrist, though I hadn’t noticed him move.

  “Camille?” Mase sobbed, bending over her head. “Camille!”

  Chris shoved Jason’s shoulder and shouted, “Move him! We have to open her airway!”

  Jason met Gabe’s eyes and nodded once in Mase’s direction. They moved behind the Re-gen, crouching to drag him back several feet. He dragged Camille with him.

  “You have to let go, Mase, or they can’t help her!” I cried. His eyes met mine, pleading, and I crawled closer. “Let go, Mase, please. Let go.”

  After a breath—a lifetime—he did. Jason and Gabe tugged him backward, and Chris rose up on her knees, lifted Camille’s neck so her head tilted back, and swept a finger into her mouth, making sure her airway was clear. Locking her hands together, Chris placed them on Camille’s chest and glanced back at Harper. “I’ll do the chest compressions, you do the breaths?”

  Harper nodded and crawled around Camille’s body until he was kneeling by her head.

  “Now,” she said, then waited for him to act as Camille’s lungs before resuming compressions.

  Three times they went through the cycle with no change. Three times Chris barked, “Now,” and three times we all watched as Harper touched his mouth to Camille’s, offering her his breath. On the beginning of the fourth cycle, a strange, cackling sound rang out above us, breaking through the repetitive sounds of CPR.

  “Kak-kak-kak. Kak-kak-kak.”

  I stared up into the starlit sky, searching for the source of the sound. A shape, white against the darkness, swooped down. It glided past, barely a few yards from my head, and repeated, “Kak-kak-kak. Kak-kak-kak.”

  “One of yours?” Jason asked, catching my eye. “It’s been following us since early this morning.”

  Understanding almost brought a smile to my face. “Ray!” Before I could reach out to the gleaming falcon with my mind, before I could even find out if my Ability worked, gunshots cracked in the not-too-far-off distance in the same direction Ray had come from. Is she warning us?

  An instant later, two people coalesced in the moon shadows between the trees separating our current stretch of grass from that of another hole.

  “Chris! Harper!” Jason hissed in warning as he rose to his feet. “Jake and Sanchez are returning. Sanchez says there’s no sign of her. You’ve got until they reach us to bring the girl back or call it.” He paused to study the two people sprinting toward us. “I’d say you’ve got thirty seconds, max.”

  I glanced around at my companions and then back out at the approaching runners, realizing Zoe was nowhere in sight. “Where’s Zoe?” I asked, gut clenching.

  Jason’s jaw tensed, but he did answer. “We don’t know.” It wasn’t much of an answer. “Can you ride?” Jason asked Mase, tossing him a pistol.

  Mase caught the gun and shrugged.

  “What do you mean? You don’t know where she is?” I shrieked. I shot a look at Chris, who was pumping Camille’s chest with renewed fervor. C’mon, Camille, breathe! “Zo came with you guys, right?”

  “She wandered off. Now we can’t find her.” Suddenly, Jason’s night-darkened eyes pinned me in place. “Can you feel her?”

  I opened myself up to my telepathy—or tried to—but I couldn’t reach it. “I can’t…I can’t feel anyone. Oh God, Zo!” I started to wring my hands but winced at the sharp stab of pain the motion caused. “Burnout. My telepathy’s not working at all,” I whispered, terrified. “We have to keep looking for her! We can’t just leave her!” Zoe…gone. Camille…dead. And why? So I can be with my friends again? My life’s not worth theirs! How could I be so selfish? How could I let them risk themselves for me? How could I—

  A gasp, soft and stuttering, broke my mental flogging. Wide-eyed, I spun to stare at the trio of people still sitting in a cluster on the overgrown grass around Camille…who was alive.

  Camille isn’t dead!

  Chris was hanging her head, and Harper was running his fingers through his hair.

  An encore of gunshots from multiple directions shattered the anxious tableau. Jake and Sanchez reached us seconds later, Sanchez calling out, “We’ve got to move, now!”

  Pain, exhaustion, shock, and fear immobilized me while the others moved around me. I should have been doing something, I knew, but I just…couldn’t. “But, Zo…”

  Again, gunshots cracked through the night, dangerously close. Hands were on my hips, lifting me, and instead of standing in the untrimmed grass, I was sitting in a saddle. Wings’s saddle. She nickered softly and looked back at me, nodding her head in greeting.

  “Are you fine to ride?” Jason asked from the ground. I nodded dumbly, watching as he mounted his chestnut gelding and turned him in a prancing circle. “Follow me,” he called softly and kicked his horse into motion.

  Glancing around at my companions, I noted that everyone had a mount, with Camille riding in front of Carlos. She was seated across his lap, unconscious but alive. I spurred Wings into motion and rode away from the Colony…from hell.

  Without Zoe.

  33

  ZOE

  MARCH 22, 1AE

  I was standing—no, I was on my knees. They were damp, I was cold, and my body felt lethargic. My mind was a jumbled mess of partially coherent thoughts and pain…a searing pain centered in my brain and radiating to the base of my skull. I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t, and uneasiness replaced my grogginess.

  Where am I?

  I heard the rustling of leaves and felt a slight breeze on my cheeks. I’m outside. I heard the leaves again. Footsteps?

  When the sound stopped, I could feel the warmth of someone near me. My fingers twitched at my sides, yet I couldn’t lift my hands or ball up my fists. Why can’t I move?

  I vaguely recalled trying to help someone, hurrying to get somewhere to help… “Dani,” I squeaked.

  It felt like I was teetering on the edge of something, about to plummet into a void. Yes, it was a fissure between some
thing full and chaotic and something foreign and desolate. There were memories and images in it, muddled with blackness.

  “Dani,” I breathed again as an emptiness swelled inside me. I felt like my soul was being sucked from my body.

  “Guess again,” a familiar, sickly saccharine voice cooed near my ear.

  Clara.

  Hysteria crept over me. “Jake,” I whispered. I wished he was nearby, but I knew he wasn’t. What have I done? The muscles in my arms and legs clenched, and all I wanted to do was sleep…and cry. What’s happening to me? The voice…the images…she implanted them. She manipulated my mind…just like she did with Tanya. A whimper escaped from my throat.

  The pain in my head worsened, and the hot tears that rolled down my cheeks felt like liquid fire against my cold skin. “Clara…please,” I whispered, begging for relief from the surmounting pain.

  “I don’t think so, Zoe,” she said, and I could hear the smile on her lips. “I finally have you all to myself.” She began humming.

  I felt more tears spill down my cheeks, followed by a dull pulse of sadness and fear. But why am I sad? I suddenly couldn’t remember. Chilled fingertips brushed my temples tenderly, and I couldn’t recall why I’d been scared in the first place. Why am I crying? My clenched jaw relaxed, and an emptiness trickled into my mind. As the soft, angelic humming continued lulling me into a rolling wave of sleep, I felt lighter…than what? Lighter than I’d felt a moment before, I was sure. I didn’t know why, and I didn’t care. Sleep was all I wanted.

  A woman’s cold, hard tone pulled me back from the precipice of darkness. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Growing panic filled the void inside me. I strained to open my eyes, but it was pointless.

  The gentle hum ceased. “Dr. Wesley? How did you—”

  “What are you doing?” the new woman—Dr. Wesley—enunciated evenly. “You’re supposed to be in the interrogation room, working on the T-R candidate. I don’t recall the General giving you leave.”

  “I…” The other woman sounded nervous as she struggled to find the words.

  Slowly, my eyelids began to peel open. I could just make out the blur of the two women’s outlines. The one who was standing further away was wearing a white lab coat. That must be Dr. Wesley. The other woman was standing beside me, dressed in something so dark she seemed almost hidden in the shadows.

  “Get away from her,” the doctor ordered, her eyes narrowing on the petite blonde before veering to me with what looked like concern.

  Do I know these women? I thought I should, but the more I tried to recall them, the more severe the shooting pain in my head became. My hands flew to my temples, and I doubled over in pain.

  The blonde turned to me, her sharp inhale audible even through my own cringing and gasping.

  “How are you doing that, Zoe?” She bent down to me, twined her fingers around my braided hair, and yanked my head back. Why is she doing this? Why is she hurting me? “How are you fighting my Ability? I swear to fucking God, if you—”

  “Get your hands off her!” Dr. Wesley demanded.

  “You!” the blonde woman screamed. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. I don’t care who you are. She’s mine!”

  “I’m warning you, Clara. Get your fucking hands off my daughter or I’ll—”

  Her daughter? Me? My eyes landed on the doctor in time to see her swing a large, gnarled branch at the blonde’s—Clara’s—head.

  When Clara fell to the ground, the invisible fingers digging into my brain retreated completely and the remnants of fog in my head dissipated. Although shaken, my mind felt amazingly clear.

  “Zoe, are you okay?” Dr. Wesley crouched down beside me, her fingers tentatively reaching for my face and her eyes filled with an emotion I didn’t understand.

  She’s my mom? Rubbing the back of my scalp, I nodded, wondering how the hell I’d gotten myself in my current situation to begin with. What is the situation?

  Out of nowhere, a fist-sized rock grazed the side of the doctor’s head, making her stumble to the ground.

  “Your daughter?” Clara laughed demonically from beside a tree trunk. She dry-washed her hands and sighed. “Interesting. And how did you know I was out here? I know the General rarely lets you off your leash.”

  The doctor rubbed the side of her head, momentarily stunned, and I tried to stand.

  Clara’s interest shifted to me. “And what did you do? Why isn’t my Ability working anymore!” she screamed in frustration. “What the hell is going on!”

  “RV-one,” the doctor grunted with what appeared to be a smirk on her face as she staggered to her feet. “RV-one told me where you’d be; she wanted me to protect Zoe.”

  “Why would she care about Zoe?”

  “Well, I suppose that has to do with who her brother is. She said you might find his identity interesting.”

  Sneering, Clara crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “I can barely contain my curiosity,” she said snidely. “Please, Dr. Wesley, tell me. Who is her brother?”

  “His name is Jake.”

  I watched the color drain from Clara’s face. RV-one? Jake? My heart was thundering in my chest. Why can’t I remember anything?

  “Jake?” The shrill pitch in Clara’s voice was gone, replaced with astonishment.

  Taking advantage of Clara’s momentary surprise, the doctor rounded on her, backhanding her across the face and sending Clara sprawling to the ground. As the doctor reached for the branch again, Clara grabbed on to the tail of her lab coat and yanked her down to the ground beside her.

  Clara did this to me. Whatever’s wrong with me, she did it. Dr. Wesley tried to save me. She called me her daughter. Before I realized what I was doing, I picked up the branch the doctor had been reaching for and swung it at Clara’s head with all my might.

  Clara’s body went limp as she fell to the ground, but she’d done that once before and gotten right back up again. My body trembled with a surprising surge of adrenaline, and I hit her in the head again.

  Dr. Wesley motioned for me to stop and crouched down to check Clara’s neck for a pulse. “She’s dead.” When she stood, her eyes were on me and filled with sorrow.

  Why is she sad? Shouldn’t she be relieved? Happy, even?

  “Thank you,” she said quietly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

  I nodded, still shaking. “Thank you.” I brought my hands up to my face to study them. “I’m—I’m not sure what would’ve happened if you hadn’t shown up.” I looked down at Clara. “I don’t even know who she is or what she was doing to me.” Panic began to resurface as the adrenaline running through my veins reduced to a simmer. “I don’t—I don’t even know who I am. I don’t—”

  The doctor idly stroked the edge of a rolled up manila envelope that stuck out of her coat pocket before she took a hesitant step closer to me, her own chest still heaving. A million unspoken thoughts seemed to dance in her eyes.

  “I don’t understand why I can’t remember anything. Where am I? What—”

  “Shhh,” the doctor murmured, and her warm, trembling hand cupped the side of my face. “They’ll find you. You’ll be safe.” She stroked my cheek with welcomed affection, and I wondered if we should hug, especially if she was, in fact, my mother. But I was glad we didn’t. It didn’t feel right to hug a complete stranger.

  The doctor blinked, and a few tears escaped from the corners of her bright blue eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here fast enough. I couldn’t get away from—I’m so sorry, Zoe.”

  34

  MASE

  MARCH 23, 1AE

  Camille’s tiny, fragile hand was limp in Mase’s grasp. He was kneeling on the carpet at the side of the bed where Camille lay, watching her. Like her hand, the rest of her was limp. Mase studied Camille’s angelic face, looking for any sign that she was still in there. But she didn’t twitch, didn’t moan, didn’t sigh; she just lay there, still as the dead.

  Camille had been dead, but she
wasn’t anymore. Because of Chris and Harper. It was a debt Mase wouldn’t soon forget, and it wasn’t the only one. The man named Jason had guided them all to an enormous house on the outskirts of a settlement—a city, Mase remembered from his lessons—that dwarfed the Colony. They had yet to reach the wild lands Dani had spoken of, the lands untouched by man’s structures. Mase wondered what it would be like, and he feared he wouldn’t be able to take care of Camille in such an unpredictable place.

  “Trust her. You must promise me, Giant. You will listen to her and trust her.”

  Mase didn’t understand the words Camille had whispered to him before she’d had her seizure. She already knew Mase trusted Dani and that he would listen to her. It didn’t make sense to him.

  He heard quiet footsteps and looked up to see RV-01 enter the bedroom. She stopped on the other side of the bed, hesitating for a few seconds before gingerly sitting on the edge.

  “Will she make it?” Mase asked, surprised by the hoarseness in his voice. “Will she come back to me?” RV-01 had been the most powerful of Father’s seers. If anyone knew Camille’s fate, it was her.

  RV-01 studied Camille for several long minutes before finally meeting Mase’s eyes. “She will. But she will not be exactly as you know her. She will be both what she was before and what she has become. And she will be neither.”

  Mase shook his head and stroked his thumb across the back of Camille’s hand. “I don’t understand.”

  “You will.”

  “RV-one—”

  “Please, call me Becca.”

  Mase felt himself frowning. RV-01—Becca—had been made into a Re-gen before either him or Camille, and to his eyes, she’d always acted like a model Re-gen. She’d never shown any signs of the differences he and Camille displayed. Was she changing? Would she start having the memory-dreams too? Was she reverting back to who she once was?

  “Becca,” Mase said, enjoying the rebellious feel of using a normal’s name for another Re-gen. “Why did you leave with us?”