The Ending Series: The Complete Series

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  Giving in, I sighed. “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “Something’s…something. You’re lost in thought, which is more of an old Zoe thing than a new Zoe thing.”

  My head snapped toward her. “Is it?” I couldn’t help feeling a burst of hope.

  With a curt nod, she crossed her arms, resting them on her belly. “Now spill.” The curious gleam in her pale, brown eyes betrayed her hard-set features.

  Rinsing off the newly scrubbed potato in my hand, I set it aside and turned to face her. “It’s the dreams.” I wiped my wet hands off on a towel haphazardly draped over the edge of the chuck boxes. “You know…about Jake?”

  Sarah grinned. “I remember. Does that mean you finally did something about it?” Her eyebrows danced suggestively.

  “No,” I said, exasperated.

  Sarah’s excitement vanished, replaced with sympathy. “I’m just teasing you, Zoe.”

  “What’s wrong with me, Sarah?” I leaned against the fold-out work table, rubbing my temples as if it might help the answer form.

  She sighed heavily. “You haven’t even talked to him about your dreams?”

  “God no!” I blanched. “What the hell would I say?”

  “Okay, well”—she threw her hands up—“this situation is clearly bothering you,” she said flatly, shielding her eyes as she squinted into the sun burning through the morning fog. “If you won’t talk to him about it, what are you going to do?”

  I threw my own hands up, feeling foolish and naïve. “Haven’t you ever been so scared that you’ll fail at something, that you’ll be rejected? I know it sounds silly, but—”

  “It doesn’t sound silly.” Sarah stepped closer to the wagon, into the shade, and the tension around her eyes lessened.

  “What if taking that next step makes me feel closer to him, but pushes him further away from me? I’m not the same, Sarah. The next step could easily ruin what we’re slowly putting back together—”

  “Or make it better.” She watched me for a long moment, clearly considering my situation. “You know what I think?”

  I stared at her blankly.

  “I think you just need to take the chance—not with sex or kissing or anything you don’t feel comfortable with, but you need to be more open with him. Let’s be honest, it’s Jake, which means he’s not going to push things between you guys…he’s waiting for you.” Sarah placed both of her hands on my shoulders. “If you want things to change, you need to make the first move—and soon, by the sound of it, or these dreams are going to drive you crazy.” Sarah gave my shoulders a squeeze. “You’re torturing yourself, Zoe. I know it’s scary, but you need to do something. You’re letting your fear get in the way of your relationship with him.”

  I groaned, nerves making me feel nauseous. “I know.” As much as I knew she was trying to help, it was easy for her to encourage me; she’d been with Biggs for months—they were having a baby together even. They’d come to know each other organically, whereas I woke up in a relationship I couldn’t remember ever having been in.

  “For what it’s worth…I don’t think you’ll regret trying to be with Jake. I just hope you don’t hurt him in the process. He’s a good guy, Zoe.” Sarah turned away, smiling to herself as she ambled to the food trunk.

  Multiple images of her and Biggs flashed through my mind. Although I’d gotten a bit better at distracting myself so I wasn’t solely focused on everyone’s memories and emotions all the time, some were more difficult to ignore than others. And sometimes curiosity got the best of me, and I couldn’t help but pay too much attention. What’s it like…really being with someone?

  Refocusing on Sarah, I realized that she was watching me intently and that I’d been thinking out loud…again. I cleared my throat, feeling like I’d been caught lurking in the dark corners of her mind. Because, in a way, I had.

  “What’s what like?” Her eyes narrowed and then widened. “Are you in my head, Zoe?”

  Biting the inside of my cheek, my hands found their way to my temples again, and I attempted to rub the swirling questions I had away. “Yes…sorry.”

  She only tossed her head back and let out a boisterous laugh. “‘What’s it like?’ It’s amazing, Zoe.”

  I smiled timidly, relieved she wasn’t offended by my prodding.

  “Which is why I think you shouldn’t run away from whatever you and Jake might still have just because you’re feeling lost. I think you should try to figure things out. Biggs makes me feel beautiful and special, even when I’m as big as a whale. He makes me feel alive.” She smiled, more for herself than for me. “I don’t know how I would’ve gotten this far without him. Granted, I wouldn’t be like I am now, near bursting and hormonal as all hell, without him…”

  Sarah’s thoughts drifted and she glanced over to the tents, where Biggs and Sanchez were standing with Jason. “Being with someone you love makes you feel important,” she said wistfully. “It makes you feel like everything will be okay because you have someone to face your problems with. Jake used to be that for you, at least I think he was. But you won’t know if he still is until you try.”

  In spite of my uncertainty, I longed to have with someone what Sarah had with Biggs. Jake was amazing, I knew it innately, even if I wasn’t sure how or why I knew it. Determined to find out if he really was someone I could love, I decided that today had to be that day—the day we would take things a step further, regardless of how small and seemingly insignificant that step might be. I needed it. We needed it.

  ~~~~~

  “You’re getting faster,” Jake said, helping me to my feet after our final round of blocking and kicking. I excelled at the blocking, although any sort of offensive strikes had proved to be more difficult.

  “Yeah?” I said, genuinely curious. Cooper trotted over to us, and I rubbed his head while he paused from his exploring.

  Jake nodded. “But speed was never a problem for you.”

  I frowned. “What was my problem?”

  Jake only chuckled as he took in my expression. “Let’s just say you weren’t very strong.”

  “Weren’t? You mean not…?”

  “Weren’t,” he clarified and gestured to my exposed biceps. They were nothing to write home about. “You’re stronger now. All you need is to remember—” He stopped himself. “You just need to learn how to use that strength again.”

  Again. The fact that he’d probably spent countless hours teaching me, doing the same training exercises we’d been doing together the past couple days, was aggravating.

  Luckily, Chris and Harper strode by, deep in conversation, giving me something else to think about. Them. I smiled. They weren’t overtly affectionate, but they spent a lot of their time together, and I’d seen Harper come out of Chris’s tent on more than one occasion.

  “We’re heading up to the ledge after this,” Jake told them. “We’ll be back after sundown.”

  Chris nodded. “Have fun.”

  “See you in a couple hours,” Harper said, and they both continued toward camp.

  I glanced behind us toward the canyon below and then back to Jake. “Excuse me…the ledge? Are you going to throw me over?”

  Jake took my hand in his, a gesture I hadn’t quite expected, and we walked toward the mass of boulders at the southwest edge of camp. “Not exactly.”

  “Umm…”

  Jake stopped. “Are you afraid of heights now?”

  “Why? I wasn’t before?” That was surprising.

  Jake shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “Oh.”

  Smiling, he squeezed my hand tighter in his. “It’s not as bad as it sounds, I promise. Come on, Coop!”

  I bit at the inside of my cheek. Jake wanted to do something special with me today, alone, and I wasn’t about to complain. “Alright. But remember, Harper and Chris know I’m going to this ledge with you, so if anything happens to me…”

  Jake laughed softly, and we fell into step beside one another.


  After a few minutes of walking hand in hand, I lost sight of camp, but I didn’t mind. We really were completely alone, and I felt strangely at ease about it. Something was different about us this time; whether it was the fact that I was adamant to step out of my comfort zone or the fact that this seemed the closest thing to a date I could ever remember having, I wasn’t sure. But I was both comfortable and content.

  “I found this place last night during my rounds,” Jake said, leading me up onto a large, lichen-covered boulder. He stepped up and reached down to help pull me up, too. He was squinting even though his back was to the lowering sun. “I thought you might like it.”

  “I’m excited,” I said truthfully. He guided me up onto another large rock, but this time my foot slipped, and I flailed forward. Jake caught me, his hands gripping mine with a firm, reassuring hold.

  “Are you alright?” His hands were rough and warm and strong around mine, one small detail to add the list of things I’d been noticing about him the more time we spent together.

  I let out a disgruntled grumble. “Yeah, thanks. I guess I’m not very good at this hiking stuff.”

  “You’ve never been very agile,” Jake teased and helped me step onto the next rock. “It’s just over here.” He nodded toward the tallest boulder as his fingers tightened around mine, trying to keep me from toppling over.

  As if they were carried on the gentle breeze, a stream of memories filled my mind, and I couldn’t shut them out.

  I saw myself on the ground, struggling beneath a very aggressive and determined soldier as he straddled me, grinning.

  I was sobbing and screaming.

  A little ways off, Cooper stood beside Jake at the edge of the woods; Jake’s attention snapped between the soldier and me.

  In a blink, I watched another, older military man fall to the ground, a bullet between his eyes, and Jake leaned against a tree, bleeding and in pain.

  Jake had saved me. I could feel his disgust and astonishment acutely. There was something about physically touching each other that made our connection stronger.

  Another memory flickered to life.

  Jake was holding me against his chest. I was unconscious as we rushed toward a truck, Harper and Sanchez hobbling along nearby.

  “How many Crazies was that?” Sanchez groaned, limping as she leaned against Harper. Blood covered the front of her shirt and was all over Harper’s hands and clothes, as well. “The bastards came out of nowhere…” She cringed. “Ah! Shit!”

  “Stop talking and concentrate on getting back to the truck,” Harper said.

  Sanchez retorted with something sarcastic, but I was distracted by Jake’s perpetual glances down at me, cradled in his arms as I was, and the way he absently stroked the side of my face, resting against his chest.

  “Here,” he said, stirring me from his memories. “Put your foot right here.”

  I smiled at how careful he was with me. I could imagine how being around him had made me feel. His hands tightened reassuringly around mine, and I had no doubt that he’d made me feel safe.

  Without warning, another memory assaulted me.

  I saw myself, crumpled on a cement floor in what appeared to be a cafeteria, my face blue and bile and sweat covering my body. But Jake didn’t seem to mind any of that as he gathered me into his arms. I could feel his fear, anger, and self-loathing as he called for help and rushed me away to find Harper.

  And then another…

  I was lying on a hospital table, unconscious, with IVs in my arms and tubes up my nose and down my throat. Jake paced back and forth, desperately waiting.

  “It was your blood,” I whispered, resisting as he pulled on my hands, urging me forward.

  Jake let up. “What?”

  I shook my head, amazed every time I learned something new about him…about us. “Do you ever get tired of saving my life?” Though the question was little more than a whisper, it was still a question I needed him to answer.

  With the exception of Dani and how much we’d relied on each other growing up, I was suddenly certain that no one had ever done as much for me in my entire lifetime as Jake had done in the few months we’d known each other. “Do you?” I persisted.

  He furrowed his brow.

  “Even after Dr. Wesley found me, you tried the transfusion again—you tried to help me. It seems I’m always getting myself into trouble, and you’re always having to get me out of it. Do you ever get tired of saving my life?” I repeated, barely noticing Cooper chasing a lizard in the crevasses in the rocks beneath our feet.

  Jake stared at me a moment longer before looking away. “It’s just the way it is.” I could feel a hint of irritation coming from him.

  “But it can’t be easy for you…”

  His eyes found mine again, an unsettling disquiet burning within them, scorching any remaining questions off my tongue. “No,” he said carefully. “It’s not. But I’m glad I can be there when you need me, regardless of how much it bothers you.”

  “It bothers me?” I asked, more than a little curious. It seemed unlikely that I would be annoyed at having my own knight in shining armor.

  “I could be wrong, but I don’t think you’re used to relying on other people.”

  “It makes sense, I guess.” I stepped up to stand on the rock beside him. “And what about you?” I asked more playfully. “Are you a habitual hero, or am I just one lucky girl?”

  Jake’s expression hardened, and he stared down at our joined hands. “I’m still getting used to having someone I”—he paused and let go of my hand—“someone I want to take care of.”

  I barely heard the words as the wind whooshed past my ears, but I had heard him, and my heart skittered in my chest. “I—” I cleared my throat. “I see.”

  We continued our climb to the ledge.

  “Well, whatever’s happened in our past,” I ventured. “I hope I’ve told you that I appreciate all that you’ve done for me.”

  Finally, he smiled again, and my heart felt a little lighter. “I know you do,” he said, pulling me toward him. “This has been a learning curve for both of us.”

  We stood there quietly for a long moment, staring at one another.

  “I’d probably be dead right now if it weren’t for you,” I said. After all I’d seen, it was obvious.

  Jake narrowed his eyes the barest amount, no doubt gauging what my reaction to his answer might be. “Probably,” he said. “But then, I don’t think you would’ve had so many close calls if it weren’t for me, either.” Jake peered out at the view and reached for my hand once more. “Stop distracting me, would you?” I was relieved by his lighthearted tone. “I promise, you’re going to like this.”

  Stepping up onto a flat rock, I froze beside him, gripping his arm to steady myself, and gaped in awe. I didn’t care how high up we were, the desert was the most picturesque, undisturbed landscape I’d ever seen. It stretched on as far as I could see, eroded sandstone towers standing vigil over the valley floor, casting protective shadows over every fissure etched in its basin. Fuchsia cactus flowers edged down the mountain we stood atop of, meeting a valley floor with bursts of yellow and purple wildflowers. The reddish hue of the late afternoon created an almost alien glow over the horizon, and I felt like I was on another planet. It was amazingly beautiful, and standing there, looking up at Jake, his eyes glowing golden brown, I never wanted to leave. This place was ours.

  “It’s so beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here.” I took both of his hands in mine. The urge to kiss him, to create new memories between us, was almost too intense to resist. So I didn’t.

  Leaning forward, I appreciated the soft smile that pulled at his lips and lost myself in his asking eyes, and my excitement trumped my lingering uncertainties.

  But with another surfacing memory, I hesitated.

  We stood in an old house, blood covering me as I peered up at him with a pained expression on my face. Moving tentatively in to kiss me, Jake yearned for forgiveness and a sense of
familiarity. His kiss was controlled, but desperate and full of more emotion than he knew what to do with. He needed me—her. He wanted her…he loved her.

  My mind filled with emotional vomit I couldn’t process, and I took a step back, unable to bring myself to follow through—to try to be her. Feeling something cool on my cheek, I blinked and wiped a lone tear away. I couldn’t do this; I couldn’t take the chance—not right now, not yet.

  “What’s wrong?” Jake asked, concern creasing his brow and an expression of longing on his face.

  Reaching out to hold his hand was the most I could offer him. I flashed him a weak smile and turned toward the sunset. “The sun’s setting,” I said hoarsely. “Let’s get comfortable.”

  APRIL

  1AE

  10

  DANI

  APRIL 20, 1AE

  Great Basin Desert, Nevada

  For almost three weeks, we traveled across Utah and into Nevada in relative peace. We encountered no Crazies, no megalomaniacal dictators, no mind-controlling cult leaders. No human enemies crossed our path, which seemed almost miraculous. But in a wasteland as expansive as the Great Basin Desert, there was no need for human enemies. The desert itself was enemy enough.

  The first horse fell before the sun even reached its zenith. It didn’t matter that it was early spring and the days never reached blisteringly hot temperatures; what mattered was that we hadn’t encountered freshwater in two days, and our reserve supply was dangerously low—too low for a caravan of over two dozen horses, nineteen people, a few goats, and two dogs. The last “town” we’d passed—it was really little more than a cluster of farms—we actually had to circumvent widely due to a large population of Crazies who, according to Zoe, were exceedingly bloodthirsty, and the last three bodies of water we’d come across were saltwater, not fresh. The Fates, it seemed, had turned against us.

  I was riding beside Jason and his as-yet-unnamed horse at the front of our column when Sarah shrieked. Jason and I exchanged wide-eyed glances and quickly guided our horses back down the length of the caravan to find out the cause of Sarah’s shriek. If she was going into labor…now…