The Ending Series: The Complete Series

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  Near the back, just ahead of the covered wagon, Houdini, an older palomino thoroughbred who’d been with us since leaving Bodega Bay months ago—who I’d befriended years ago, when I worked at the Bodega Bay Riders’ Ranch—lay on the gravel shoulder. He was partially on his side, his legs slightly curled and his head resting limp on the ground, and some of the stuff sacks and a duffel bag that had been strapped to his pack saddle were strewn around him on the gravel. His sides heaved with each too-quick breath.

  “Oh God, no!” I swung my leg over Wings’s rump and jumped down, not caring that the sharp movement jarred my broken arm. I lunged toward Houdini, dropping to my knees by his head. “Dini…” My fingers brushed over his forehead, moving his blond bangs away from his eyes so he could see. Those brown eyes were wide and filled with terror.

  I strengthened the telepathic link between us automatically, needing to comfort him, to ease his mounting panic. “It’s okay, Houdini…it’s okay,” I murmured in his mind. “I’m here. You’ll be fine. Just breathe, old friend. Just breathe, and you’ll be okay. I’ll take care of you.”

  Lies. All lies. He wouldn’t be okay. And the worst part was that he knew it.

  I reached for the nearest buckle on his pack saddle, the one over his shoulder, but my fingers were trembling too badly to be effective. I balled my hand into a fist and glanced up at the humans standing in a loose circle around us. I didn’t understand why they were just standing there.

  “Help me!” I said, tugging ineffectively at the buckle once more. “Get this damn thing off him.” The words came out broken, an almost sob. “Please!”

  Jason was suddenly there, and Zoe and Carlos and Mase. Everyone moved closer, wanting to help. But they couldn’t help, not in any way that really mattered.

  I scooted closer, lifting Houdini’s heavy head up onto my knees awkwardly with only one arm, and huddled over him. I hugged his neck and whispered empty reassurances in his mind.

  As his pain increased, so did his panic, and he started fading in and out of coherency.

  “Red? Dani?” Jason touched my shoulder. “We did what we could with the saddle, but he’s lying on part of it, so…”

  It didn’t matter anyway. I raised my head and met Jason’s eyes. He knew. Or at least, he suspected.

  “Dehydration?”

  I nodded. I couldn’t speak; anything I attempted to say would come out garbled and incomprehensible.

  “What else can we do?”

  I stroked my hand along the length of Houdini’s neck and took several deep breaths. Clearing my throat, I said, “Give the horses the rest of the water.”

  Jason stared at me for a few seconds, blinking but not speaking. Finally, he shook his head. “We’ll give each of them a drink, but we have to save some…”

  I felt my expression harden, but I didn’t argue.

  Again, he stared and didn’t respond for long seconds. “What do you want to do now?”

  I swallowed. Talking about water was making my throat feel painfully parched. “Tell the others to keep moving until they can’t see us anymore…and to take Wings and Nameless with them.” I wiped my cheek on my shoulder. “And nobody gets back in the saddle. We’re walking until we find freshwater.”

  Jason nodded before standing and striding toward our other companions, who were clustered behind the wagon. I couldn’t spare much attention for them, not with Houdini growing more and more afraid with each passing minute. I did what I could for him, reminding him that I was still there, that I wouldn’t leave him, that I loved him and would always be there with him. That I would never abandon him, not while he still breathed.

  I was vaguely aware of someone, possibly multiple someones, gathering the items that had been on Houdini’s pack saddle.

  “Dani?” It was Zoe.

  I continued to stare into Houdini’s wild eye, continued to murmur nonsensical things, impossible things, aloud and in his mind.

  Zoe touched my shoulder. “Do you want to give him some water, too?”

  I sniffled and shook my head. There was no point, and we couldn’t afford to waste it.

  Crunching gravel, receding footsteps, and then Houdini and I were alone again.

  I wasn’t sure how long it took—maybe fifteen minutes, maybe more—but the caravan started to move west again, leaving Jason, Houdini, and me behind on the shoulder of the highway.

  “Where’s the best place to do it?” Jason asked softly as he knelt behind Houdini’s head.

  I touched my fingers to a spot on the palomino’s forehead, then leaned over and pressed my lips against his bristly hair. “I love you, old friend,” I whispered. Maintaining the telepathic connection, I continued to soothe Houdini, even as I stood and took several steps backward.

  “You don’t have to watch,” Jason said.

  “Yes, Jason, I do.”

  On his exhale, Jason nodded and pulled the pistol from his shoulder holster. His aim was true, and Houdini was gone almost as soon as the bullet entered his skull.

  “Goodbye, old friend.”

  ~~~~~

  By the time we caught up to the caravan, the sun was directly overhead. Our companions were clustered on the side of the road, talking over one another. Jason and I didn’t notice it at first. Maybe because we didn’t want to, and maybe because it didn’t seem possible after what we’d just been through. It wasn’t until we were just several dozen yards away and I was in the process of checking in with the rest of the horses that I felt it: panic—pain—terror.

  Two more horses were down.

  It was one of the driving teams, which explained why the humans were clustered beside one of the carts. One of the cart horses had collapsed, and she’d dragged her companion down with her, fracturing the other mare’s leg in the process. Carlos and Jake were working on freeing the healthier horse, not that it mattered, while the others were arguing about what to do next.

  Jason’s hold tightened on my hand.

  “—that lake we passed a couple miles ago,” Ben said.

  “Yeah,” Ky agreed. “Couldn’t we, I don’t know, boil it and capture the vapor or something. That would be freshwater…”

  Grayson shook his head. “The amount of wood required to boil enough water…it’s too inefficient. It won’t produce enough drinkable water fast enough.”

  “So we go to this next town,” Sanchez said, holding up a partially folded map and shaking it. “No matter what, we go here, clear out any Crazies—”

  “But what if there are other people?” Sarah said.

  Sanchez pressed her lips into a thin line and took a deep breath. “If there are other people, we’ll make them see reason.” She raised her eyebrows. “This is the only option. We didn’t survive this long just to die of dehydration in the middle of a fucking desert.”

  Silences settled over the group.

  Jason and I stopped on the periphery, earning hasty glances and tight smiles. They’d all heard the shot; they knew Houdini’s fate and knew the cart horses—along with any other horse that collapsed—would suffer the same fate.

  “I’m with Sanchez,” Jason said. “I think heading for the nearest town and doing whatever it takes to get access to their water supply is our only move at this point.” He looked at me, and when I nodded, he shifted his focus to Grayson. “Daniel?”

  The eldest and undeniably wisest member of our group nodded as well, and one by one, so did the others.

  By the time we reached the “town”—the label was even less applicable to this one than it had been to the last—we’d lost another horse and were down to only one cart and the wagon. As far as I could tell, it appeared to be a single farm, lonesome and dried up in the middle of the high desert. We stopped about a quarter of a mile away to assess any possible dangers before diving in.

  “Do you sense anything?” Jason asked Zoe as she walked to the front of the caravan. When she shook her head, he shifted his focus to me. “And your scouts still aren’t picking up on anything?”
r />   I, too, shook my head and, staring up at the sky, watched the pale pinpoint that was Ray grow as she glided closer.

  Jason exhaled heavily and nodded in slow motion. It was clear that he was reticent to believe we’d caught a break. Eager, but reticent.

  I started salivating at the thought of gulping down water. How I still had enough moisture in my body to salivate was beyond me, but I couldn’t wait to suck down as much water as my stomach could hold. I hadn’t had to pee since just after waking, and even that had been a lackluster effort—not overly encouraging regarding my own state of dehydration. And the dark spots taunting me as they danced around the outer edges of my vision…I didn’t think those were a great sign, either.

  By the time we reached the farm, our pace slow to exert as little effort as possible, the spots were no longer only on the outer edge, but creeping across my vision like ashes floating in the drafts of heat over a campfire. We sought refuge in the largest, shadiest building—a slightly rundown barn. Most of us worked together to unburden the horses while Jason, Carlos, and Jake split off to work on gaining access to the remote farm’s water supply. Carlos’s Ability was more than strong enough to power a well pump, as he’d started doing pretty much everywhere we stopped that had a well so we could stock up. Unfortunately, the deeper we plunged into the Great Basin Desert, the fewer and farther between those places seemed to be.

  While I moved from horse to horse in the barn alongside Zoe, I imagined the sensation of water filling my mouth, cool and refreshing…trickling down my throat…dripping down my chin…over my head…

  “I hate to have to say this…” Jason’s voice was low, even.

  I looked up, focusing with some effort on the barn doorway. Jason, Carlos, and Jake stood, silhouetted in the opening by the late afternoon sun. I didn’t need to be able to see any of their shadowed faces for dread to sprout and flourish inside me.

  “…but the water’s no good.”

  I noticed the others straighten, turn to face him, exchange a confused look with whoever was nearest to them.

  “What do you mean?” Sanchez asked. She took several steps toward the trio, away from the wagon team she was helping Grayson unharness.

  “There are bodies in the house.” Jason paused. “And in the water tank.”

  Grayson joined Sanchez. “We can disconnect the pump, and—”

  “Won’t work,” Jake said from beside Jason. “Someone disabled it. It’s gonna take some time to fix, and there’s no guarantee…”

  Sanchez placed her hands on her hips. “What about those pickups over by the house? At least one of them’s gotta be—”

  Jake shook his head, his expression grim.

  “Someone clearly wanted to cut off these people’s access to water,” Jason said. “There’s no water here.”

  No water. It wasn’t possible. I shook my head as my knees gave out, and I plopped on my butt on the dirt floor. This couldn’t be happening. We couldn’t die here…not after everything. But we would.

  We’re going to die here.

  I rubbed my hand over my mouth.

  We’re going to die here.

  I felt whiskers tickle the side of my neck, closely followed by the warmth of a velvety muzzle. “No,” Wings said in my mind. “We will not die here. You will lead us to water. We trust you.”

  Which made the whole situation so much worse, because I couldn’t do a damn thing.

  I blinked.

  But I could do a damn thing. I could slip into Ray’s mind…into the minds of any other creatures for miles around. I could hop from mind to mind until I found freshwater.

  I leaned my cheek against the side of Wings’s long face. “I will try, Pretty Girl. I will try.”

  ~~~~~

  I was Ray.

  I flew away from the tainted two-legs den in circles. My quarry was not my usual prey, but it was no less important. My quarry was water. Without it, she-who-flies-with-me would cease to be. I had to find it. She-who-flies-with-me is part of me, now. She-who-flies-with-me cannot cease to be.

  I suggested life-water, warm and thick and sustaining, but she-who-flies-with-me claimed consuming such would make her ill…make her more likely to cease to be. That could not happen.

  I flew until the sun neared the storm clouds on the horizon. I flew until my wings ached. I flew until I had to hunt, or I, too, would cease to be.

  I came “awake” with a start. I’d been sleeping less and less as the days passed, spending more and more time flying with Ray, or running with Wings or Cooper or Jack. It was so easy now, so relaxing. Usually.

  “Did you find anything?” Jason asked. My head was on his lap, as it had been when I’d first drifted away, and his fingers were stroking the wispy flyaways at my temples. He looked down at me, hope gleaming in his eyes.

  I glanced at the doorway. It was still light out, but dimmer than before. I looked up at Jason. “What time is it?”

  “A little after seven.”

  I stared into his sapphire eyes for a little bit longer, savoring the hope they still contained. Because as soon as I spoke, I knew it would disappear.

  Taking a deep breath, I whispered, “Nothing close enough.” I closed my eyes and felt a tear escape, sliding across my temple only to be stopped by his fingertip. “I’m sorry.”

  Jason leaned down and pressed his lips to my forehead. “Me too.”

  11

  ZOE

  APRIL 20, 1AE

  Great Basin Desert, Nevada

  I’d come to appreciate the cool evenings in the high desert, a welcome contrast to the warm and wearisome days. And after a day as long, hot, and emotionally trying as this one had been, tonight was no different. The sun was finally setting behind the mountains, offering the group and our animal friends a reprieve from the threatening sun. I felt a slight sense of rejuvenation as the sun’s rays lessened, allowing people to scramble around in their desperation to find water without the added burden of heat.

  Feeling useless and overwhelmed by everyone’s mounting emotions, I couldn’t stay in the barn stewing in everyone’s fear and anxiety any longer. So, leaving Sarah, Ben, and Sam to continue making room for everyone to roll out their sleeping bags in the barn, I slipped away to clear my mind, to harness my own emotions and rid myself of everyone else’s.

  What are we going to do?

  Stretching my legs, I walked to the pump house, stopping just outside the crumbling doorframe so as not to bother Jake as he, Carlos, and Mase cranked and banged on the piping and machinery it housed.

  “Carlos, there’s a roll of duct tape in that bin over there.” Jake pointed to a storage tub resting by my feet. I bent down and picked it up, handing it to Carlos. “And there should be a tube of silicone, too.” On the outside, Jake was all calm confidence, but I could feel his wavering ease beneath the surface.

  “To seal up the cracks?” Carlos asked as he took the bin from me.

  Jake nodded and turned back to Mase. “On the count of three, I’ll turn to the left, you twist to the right, but be careful. I couldn’t find any piping to replace this one.”

  Mase nodded.

  “One. Two. Three.” Both men wrenched and strained, Jake more than Mase, until finally the piping twisted apart. I felt Jake’s wave of relief as he examined the intact pipe. Then his relief fizzled. “Shit.” He ran a hand over his head. “I hope to God we have enough silicone to fix this.”

  Unable to watch frustration harden Jake’s face, I wandered over to the workbench on the side of the barn, where Sanchez, Grayson, Harper, and Biggs were standing. Inching my way into the circle, I stared down at the three maps they had unfurled and laid out, overlapping one another.

  “If we go south,” Sanchez said, “we’ll find more shelter—caves and such—but there’s absolutely no indication of there being any water.”

  “We know there are three bodies of water here,” Harper said, pointing to an aerial map of the westernmost side of the desert.

  “True,”
Grayson said. “But we don’t know if they’re saltwater or—”

  “We can’t steer clear of possible water because we’re assuming they’re salt ponds,” Harper said. “It’s a chance we might have to take…”

  With thinning patience lacing each of their voices, I left the four of them to debate which route to take. There were no words of advice I could offer, and I decided hanging around would only worry me more and aggravate them further.

  I passed Dani, who was lying quietly in Jason’s arms inside one of the stables. I could feel her mind in both an awakened and hibernating state. Jason glanced up at me as he held her, amplifying her Ability as she no doubt soared or roamed or slithered around with her animal friends in search of water.

  With heavy limbs, I schlepped to the edge of the farm, found a lone juniper, and nestled myself against it. Had our day not been filled with death and turmoil, I might’ve thought the storm clouds looming over the mountains miles and miles away might be our saving grace, but instead, I felt as if we were being taunted, teased. Even the sunset that stretched across the expanse that separated us from our salvation seemed to have a greater meaning. It was truly remarkable, a melody of reds and yellows and oranges so vibrant and alive I couldn’t help but wonder if it was there as an accompaniment to our swan song.

  “There you are,” Tavis said as he strode up behind me. “I was wondering where you’d run off to.”

  I smiled, knowing it didn’t reach my eyes, and scooted over so he could plop down beside me. “Where have you been?”

  Tavis nodded back to where the herd stood languidly. “Helping Becca and Camille give the animals what little water we could.”

  “Water,” I said quietly. “It’s so close…” My eyes fixed on the dark clouds moving even further away from us as the breeze picked up.