Ky threw his hands up in the air. “You know what? Fuck you.” He pointed around Harper at Becca, then aimed his finger first at Harper, then at Jake. “Fuck you and you.” He swept his arm around in a broad, sweeping gesture. “Fuck you all, very much.”
Jason took a step toward him. “Ky—”
But Ky flung his hand up, turned, and stalked out into the night. “I’m taking Ben. I’m done with all this bullshit.”
Again, Jason and I exchanged a look, bafflement this time. “He’ll be back,” I said, my chest clenching.
“Yeah,” Jason agreed.
But neither of our voices contained any amount of certainty.
A dog barked, a second joined it, and I felt Jack’s mind as he and Cooper trotted into the ring of tents. My eyes closed, and I exhaled in relief. At least Jack was okay.
16
ZOE
APRIL 28, 1AE
Humboldt-Toiyabe National Forest, Nevada
It was the dead of night. Ben was dead, Ky was gone, Becca had practically been assaulted by Ky, and a piece of Jake’s arm had been torn off; sleep was the last thing on any of our minds. Well, except for Dani. She was exhausted after melding with the minds of the animal battalion that had come to our aid.
Sitting by the fire, I tried to collect myself. My mind had already felt a little fried after sneaking in a quick, headache-inducing electrotherapy session with Gabe and Carlos early today. And after I’d seen Jake’s arm—a bloody mess that needed tending—followed by the mental replay of the wild man who’d literally torn a piece out of him with his teeth, it was all I could do not to burst into hysterics.
Other than questioning the guy who’d been fleeing from the pack of wild men, a middle-aged man named Ralph, Jason hadn’t said much; his concern for Dani had become all-consuming. My concern for her was heightened as well, but for another reason. What’s to stop Dani from becoming like them? I knew she’d been drifting more and more, and now that I’d seen some of Ralph’s memories, I knew Dani wasn’t safe…from herself. Even as she lay inside her tent, trying to sleep, I could feel her mind drifting.
Hearing Jake’s rumbling voice behind me as he thanked Carlos for frying the man who’d gnawed on his arm, I glanced over my shoulder at him. I could see that Jake’s sleeve was dark with blood, and I knew someone needed to look at the wound. Harper had taken a walk with Becca, trying to reassure her that there was nothing she could’ve done for Ky or Ben, leaving me a sorry stand-in.
Whether it was overexertion or his body actively regenerating itself, I could feel Jake’s exhaustion, prompting me to head over to the chuck wagon. I dug around inside one of the cubbies for the medical kit I thought had been crammed in there somewhere. I was considering where else it might be hiding when I finally found it behind a stack of paper plates and napkins.
Ready to put on my nurse cap and attempt to look like I knew what I was doing, I turned back toward the fire, my gaze automatically gravitating to Jake, who was still standing with Carlos by his tent.
I made my way over to them, then stopped a few yards away and waited for their discussion to end. When Carlos noticed me, he nodded in my direction, and Jake turned around. I held the medical kit up and gestured toward the fire that was ever present in the center of our camp. It wasn’t usually blazing in the middle of the night, but tonight was obviously an exception.
After Jake dipped his chin in acknowledgement, I headed over to the campfire to find a place for us to sit. I knew he was different than the rest of us, that he could heal faster than everyone else, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t in pain or that he didn’t need to take care of himself.
Plopping down into an empty folding chair, I anxiously waited for him to join me. Mase had built the fire to roaring, and its flames would provide ample light to tend Jake’s wound. Losing myself to the sound of crackling fire and the undulating flames, I thought about how many other times he’d been injured, about the memories I’d seen of his burned body…
“This seat for me?”
My gaze slipped away from the mesmerizing pull of the fire and met Jake’s. He offered me a lopsided smile, but it wasn’t reassuring. I could feel his exhaustion even more acutely with him standing beside me and could see it plainly enough on his face. He needed rest.
“Of course,” I said, leaning forward in my seat. “Now, how are we going to do this?” I asked, holding up the kit again as he sat down.
Using his good arm to tug the long-sleeved shirt over his head, Jake grimaced as he gingerly pulled the blood-dried fabric off his arm. “You playing nurse again?”
Suddenly, I realized Jake had removed his shirt. I cleared my throat and busied myself as I opened the medical box. “Nurse? No, I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“That’s comforting.”
I glanced over at him with a smirk, in time to see Jake’s smile…and exposed chest. It was the first time I’d ever seen Jake without a shirt on, the first time I learned of the light brown hair dusting his chest and leading down his lower abdomen.
But as much as I wanted to study his body, I zeroed in on the chunk missing from the inside of his forearm—a fleshy, gaping hole layered with folds of blood-crusted, unevenly torn muscle and tissue, some of it more pink than red, a sign of his quick healing. Even the traumatized skin surrounding the wound was colored with faint green and yellow bruises, as if they were already days old.
While I felt my heart seize at the sight of the bite wound, Jake seemed unfazed. “You sure you want to do this?” he asked. “I can have one of the others—”
“No,” I said quickly. “I don’t mind, really.” I squeezed his hand before turning my attention back to the medical kit in my lap. “I want to make sure someone tends to it before it heals wrong or gets infected or something.”
“It won’t heal wrong,” he said, “and it won’t get infected.” I saw an image of him lying in the snow, a bullet in one hand and his other palm against his chest.
I glanced up at his torso, seeing no scar from a bullet wound. “Maybe not, but it still hurts, doesn’t it?”
“Like hell.”
“Well then, let’s do what we can to help your body instead of making it do all the work.”
I evaluated the contents of the kit, trying to decide where to start. “I suppose cleaning it is the first order of business,” I thought aloud. I curled my lip as I examined the flesh once more. “I take it you’ve not done that yet…”
Jake tried not to smile. “No, I haven’t had the chance.”
I cleared my throat and swallowed. “Clearly.” Removing an alcohol pad from its wrapper, I cleaned the skin around the wound, which was half the size of my palm.
Jake chuckled softly.
“Am I entertaining you?”
“Your determination is very…you.”
My eyes met his for a brief a moment. “Thank you, I think.” We were quiet for a few breaths, the fire and the chatting around us only white noise. I held up a small bottle of rubbing alcohol. “What do you think?”
Jake frowned. “I don’t think you need to go that far.”
I smiled, happy to be the one amused this time. I gave an innocent shrug. “I’m just trying to help.”
“Helping or hurting?” he asked glumly.
Shaking my head, I relented. “You’re no fun.” I exchanged the bottle of alcohol for one of saline solution and squirted around in the wound, repeating the action a few more times until I felt it was sufficiently clean. I reached for the alcohol pad to wipe the excess saline solution dripping from his arm. “I’ll wrap this up for you and then you can go rest.”
Jake shook his head. “I can’t. Ralph has some information he wanted to—”
I glared at him. “Can’t you let Jason talk to him? Or at least wait until the sun comes up, when you have some of your strength back? No offense, but you look like you’re about to fall over. You think you can keep going at this rate with your body trying to heal itself?” As I wrapped the clean gauze a
round his forearm, both his amusement and exhaustion flowed into me. “Can we at least go lie down for a little bit?”
I struggled with the small role of adhesive tape but finally managed to tear a piece off. When I looked back up at Jake, his expression seemed part perplexed and part entertained.
“What?” I asked, giving him a sidelong glance.
He raised his eyebrows. “We?”
“We what?” Then it hit me. Realizing what I’d said, I busied myself by taping down the bandage and putting the supplies back into the medical kit. “Well, you at least. I’m not trying to be obnoxious, but I really don’t feel like you’re taking this whole regenerating thing seriously. You’re not superhuman, you know.”
Jake turned his shirt right-side out.
“In all seriousness,” I added in his silence, “have you considered at all how much your Ability has changed you?”
“What do you mean?” Exhaustion and pain getting the better of him, Jake struggled to lift his wounded arm.
“Here,” I said, gently peeling the half-donned shirt back off of him. “We’ll get you a zip-up sweatshirt, that’ll be easier.” Jake sat there patiently while I manhandled him. “If your body regenerates itself, will you stop aging?”
He chuckled weakly.
I smacked his good arm. “I’m serious. You can’t die—”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” he said. “Just like your Ability has limitations, mine has to as well. I’m just not sure what they are, and I don’t really want to test any theories.” He obviously didn’t want to talk about it, and I had to admit that it was too deep of a conversation for us to be having when he could barely keep his eyes open as it was. “Come on,” he said. He stood and, taking the kit out of my hand, set it on his chair and intertwined his fingers with mine.
Without a word, I followed him to his tent. I’d never been in it before, and the thought of being in his private space with him was thrilling.
He unzipped the door and stepped inside, guiding me in gently behind him. His tent was larger than the one I shared with Becca; ours was snug, barely fitting the two of us and our things. I was fine with it, though; it was what I was used to, and it made me feel safe. Jake’s tent, on the other hand, was big enough for four people, which I thought was sort of strange. It was only him, a single, open duffel bag, which his clothes were perfectly rolled and stacked inside, and his sleeping bag. Granted, it was actually two sleeping bags conjoined, but still. It seemed a big tent for one man.
“Shoes off,” he said, standing slightly slouched by the entrance, which apparently served as his designated “shoe” area. “That’s my one rule,” he said. “And don’t try to get out of it. I’ll hold you to it this time.”
I was confused. “Wait, what?” As far as I knew, we’d never once talked about a “no shoes in the tent” rule. But then I realized…he was talking about before. Surrendering, I toed off my tennis shoes and moved to the side, nearly able to stand up straight at the tent’s peak.
Jake zipped the door shut and, favoring his right arm, lay down on the sleeping bags with a groan. I hadn’t realized there were two pillows until he wadded one of them up beneath his head.
“One of the pillows is mine,” I thought aloud. I felt stupid for not making the connection earlier. The joined sleeping bags, the bigger tent—this wasn’t just his, it was ours.
“Yep,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. The campfire outside, only a few yards away, brightened the inside of Jake’s tent enough for me to see how intently he was watching me.
“And, let me guess, I don’t like the ‘no shoes’ rule.”
A weak smile pulled at his lips. The firelight cast shadows against the tent’s blue nylon walls. The flickering light and dark made the brown stubble on Jake’s jaw glow then turn sable before it began glowing again.
“No,” he finally said. “You don’t like my ‘no shoes’ rule.”
I smiled. “I don’t think it’s so bad now.”
He made a derisive noise and patted the area beside him. “You’re making me anxious standing over me like that.”
“I need to get you a sweatshirt,” I said a little warily. I stepped over to his bag and stared at the items rolled and folded inside. “Since this is organized immaculately, I have a feeling you know exactly where your sweatshirts are.”
“There should be one tucked in the right corner.”
Just as he’d said, I felt the cool zipper against my fingertips and carefully pulled out a black, zip-up, hooded sweatshirt so not to mess up the rest of his clothes.
“Here you go,” I said, lowering myself down to him. “You need to sit up, just for a minute. I’ll make it fast, I promise.”
With a grunt, Jake sat up and held his injured arm out first. After I pulled the sweatshirt on as gently as possible, I helped him with the other sleeve, and then he lay back down. Lifting his good arm, Jake welcomed me to lie against him, and I automatically accepted his offer.
My head fit perfectly in the crux of his arm, and I leaned into him, draping my arm over his middle. My entire body eased, the tension fleeing my muscles as I was consumed by Jake’s warmth. He smelled smoky, like campfire, and the faint sound of his heart was steady and reassuring.
“What do I like?” I asked.
A small smile pulled at Jake’s lips. “Well, you like sleeping with two pillows. At least you say that, but you only ever really use one. So I gave one of yours to Camille and Mase.” His voice was velvety.
“Sneaky.” I smiled. “What else?”
Jake’s hand drew languid circles in the middle of my lower back, and I felt my mind start to drift. “You like to leave your clothes all over the tent, and you never fold anything…not really, anyway. You claim it’s pointless.”
I thought of the disarray my side of Becca’s tent was currently in. “What else?” I whispered.
Jake was quiet a moment, and for a second I thought he might have fallen asleep, but then he spoke. “You hog the bed, and…”
I peered up at him, the intensity of his gaze making my stomach flutter. Admiration and affection stirred within him, lulling as it passed over me like a warm blanket of promise and hope and safety.
He was hesitant, scared even, to love me the way he once did, but for some reason, it didn’t upset me. Maybe I finally understood, or maybe it just didn’t matter anymore. Either way, he was trying. I could feel his vulnerability: longing—desire—uncertainty—wonder. It was the most amazing thing I’d ever felt, and I had to resist the urge to tell him that Gabe and I were working on a plan for me to get my memory back. I couldn’t bear to think about his disappointment if it didn’t work.
“You also do this all the time,” he said, rubbing his sock-covered feet against mine. “Every single night, you rub your feet against the bottom of the sleeping bag until they finally find mine…and then you fall asleep.”
I glanced down at my feet, which were tangled with his, and realized how deeply I could fall in love with Jake. It wasn’t his emotions or guilt making me feel obligated this time, and it wasn’t a looming pressure to be someone I no longer was. It was a simmering love I’d felt since the first moment I saw him, the sad man standing in the doorway of the abandoned house.
Propping myself up on my elbow, I leaned in without hesitation and kissed him, more fervently than the last time. I wanted Jake to know how I felt, wished I could share with him the feelings he, unbeknownst to him, had shared with me.
“I love you,” I whispered against his mouth, not wanting to let another moment pass without him knowing how I felt.
Afraid to open my eyes, to see his reaction illuminated on his face, I kept them closed and pressed my lips to his once more. “I love you,” I repeated.
Ignoring his pain, Jake pulled me closer with his injured arm, his kiss tender and his body exuding waves of unmistakable relief.
17
DANI
APRIL 29, 1AE
Humboldt-Toiyabe National Forest, Nevada
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I “woke” with a groan. I hadn’t been sleeping; I’d been stalking squirrels with some bobcats. And I’d meant to be sleeping.
I’d essentially passed out in the wee hours of the morning, intent on remaining asleep and resting my mind and not drifting into any animal minds. But I had drifted, and because my subconscious had been in charge when I left my body, I’d drifted from creature to creature like a sleepwalker, unwilling, or possibly unable, to return to my body by choice.
Jason trailed his fingertips over the sensitive skin on the side of my neck, giving rise to goose bumps. I could feel the heat of him close against my side despite the two insulated layers of sleeping bags separating our bodies.
“Good dream?” he asked.
Opening my eyes, I stared up at the green nylon canopy of our tent and frowned. “I…I can’t remember,” I lied, glancing at him. He was lying on his side, his head resting on his curled-up arm. “Why do you ask?”
Jason’s piercing blue eyes held a hint of the sparkle that usually accompanied a smile. “You were hard to wake.” He rolled onto his back.
I forced a smile and shrugged. I hadn’t been having a good dream—or any dream—because I hadn’t even been asleep. But I didn’t want to worry Jason or anyone else with such a minor problem compared to what had just happened the night before. Ben was dead, Ky was who knows where, and one of the mares had a bad gash on her rear that Harper feared would become infected. And I’d led the horses in what could easily be called a slaughter-by-stampede. Suddenly, child-murderer and liar didn’t seem to be the worst things I could be called.
I sighed and rubbed my hands over my face, wiping away the crusty sleep in the corners of my eyes. “I need some fresh air.” I crawled out of my sleeping bag and toward the tent door.
“Wait,” Jason said when I had the top part of the flap unzipped.
I glanced back at him.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“What?”
His eyes trailed down the length of my body, zeroing in on my butt. The attention to my nether parts made me notice the draftiness around my lower half. I’d fallen asleep in only one of Jason’s t-shirts and my underwear, and that was still all I had on.
The Ending Series: The Complete Series Page 105