I nodded and flashed Becca a grateful smile before moving closer to Harper.
Sarah shrieked in pain, her screams coming one after the other.
“Can you give her something for the pain?” Biggs asked, panicked.
Harper shook his head. “There’s no way it’ll kick in fast enough. It all happened too fast…”
“What now, H?” I asked, my voice sounding steadier than I felt.
“The babies are coming,” he said, pulling on a clean pair of gloves. “Wash your hands and put on a pair”—he tossed the box of gloves to me—“because you’re gonna help me deliver these poor kids. Otherwise they might be deaf by the time they get here.” He winked at me, a Harper gesture of reassurance, but I could feel his fear building as he readied himself for the delivery.
Even though he hoped Sarah’s twins would be okay, he knew that her situation was so far beyond normal that there were no certainties…but then, there never were in childbirth.
Harper scrutinized me with his shrewd, green eyes. “Stop digging, Baby Girl, come on.”
Steadying my nerves, I did as Harper said. I took a step closer to Sarah, and once again, her eyes flitted to mine. Her gaze was filled with pain and fear and hatred that she tried to quell. Her face was ruddy, her skin covered in a sheen of sweat. Wisps of hair were matted to the sides of her face, and her eyes squinted shut as she wailed.
Chris stood on one side of Sarah, Biggs on the other, each squeezing one of her hands while she faded in and out of bouts of pain. They were doing their best to soothe her, to shift her mood and mute her overwhelming pain, but their efforts only dulled it slightly.
I did what I could to help Harper, being another set of hands when he needed it and holding Sarah’s legs down when she started to move around. After a few more minutes, Sarah’s pain was almost more than I could bear; it resonated inside of me, bringing the sting of tears to my eyes.
And then, Sarah let out another agonized grunt, and Harper had a screaming baby in his arms.
He looked up at me, smiling.
“It’s a boy,” I said, an uncontainable smile engulfing my face.
“A healthy boy,” Harper said more loudly.
There was relieved laughter and whispers as Harper cut the umbilical cord and moved to hand Sarah her baby boy.
She shook her head. “No, I—” She began screaming in pain again, her body tensing.
Quickly, Harper handed me the baby, refocusing his attention on Sarah. “Here comes the other…”
She screamed again, her eyes shut tightly as she tried to clench away the pain.
“I know it’s hard, Sarah, but try to relax. This one should be quick.”
There was more screaming and Sarah cursing at Harper, but as Harper predicted, the other baby arrived within minutes.
“It’s a girl!” I said. “You have a baby boy and a baby girl, Sarah.” I tried to hand her the amazingly precious little boy who had begun to fuss in my arms, but again, Sarah pushed him away.
Tears were streaming from her eyes as she tried to catch her breath. Uncertain what to do, I handed the baby to Chris instead, while Harper passed the baby girl to Biggs. He accepted the infant, but his gaze was fixed on Sarah, confusion and pain twisting his expression, nearly breaking my heart. When he tried to hand Sarah her baby girl, she pushed Biggs away.
“No,” she snapped. “Get them away from me.”
Biggs stood there, stunned.
“I said take them away!” The confusion, disgust, and shame she was feeling greatly outweighed her love and adoration for her new family.
The room quieted, everyone’s eyes on Sarah.
“Just get out!” she yelled, and my heart nearly stopped, fear replacing my concern for her.
After exchanging glances with one another, Chris and Biggs filed hesitantly out of the room, a baby cradled in each of their arms. Dani looked up at me, worry filling her eyes, as she, too, followed them out of the room, leaving Harper and me alone with Sarah. I glanced over at her; her hands were covering her face, and her body was convulsing as she sobbed.
“Why don’t you give us a minute, Baby Girl,” Harper whispered.
“No,” Sarah said, her head snapping up. “I want to talk to Zoe…alone. Please.” She sounded as conflicted as I knew she felt.
Harper took a step toward Sarah. “We need to clean you up and—”
“Later,” she said. “I need to talk to Zoe.” She must’ve noticed my uncertainty. Her eyes flicked from me to Harper and back. “I just had twins. I’m not going to bite you.”
I let out a dry laugh as Harper squeezed my arm reassuringly and walked out. Part of me wanted to call him back, but I didn’t. I needed to talk to Sarah about what was happening to her, about the memories I’d seen. I needed to know how far gone she was before I told Jason, before he interrogated her or worse.
Once I could hear Harper outside, I took a step toward Sarah.
She took a deep breath and shook her head, more tears escaping down her cheeks. “I don’t know what’s going on,” she croaked. “I feel like I’m losing my mind.”
I stood a few feet from her, unable to relax no matter how adamantly I tried to convince myself that she could never bring herself to kill me. “I know you want to hurt me. I’ve seen—”
“But I don’t,” she said desperately. “At least, part of me doesn’t…”
I could feel Sarah battling with her own emotions, using her children, her family, to ignore her building need to put a bullet in my head, to spill my blood. “I know what I’m supposed to do. Trying to deny my mission is like trying not to breathe.” There was a sharpness to her voice I’d never heard before. Regardless of Sarah’s determination to ignore the dangerous part of herself, she was failing, and we both knew it.
“You’re my best friend,” she said like she was trying to convince herself it was true. Despite her calmness, she was only holding on by a thread.
When Sarah looked up at me again, her brown eyes were bloodshot and filled with more unshed tears, but her mouth was tensed and anger pulsed inside her. “This is your fault,” she bit out. “Your whole family’s—your mom’s…I wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for you.” Her tone was scathing.
Almost immediately, Sarah clamped her hand over her mouth. “I’m so sorry, Zoe. I didn’t mean that. I know it’s not your fault, I—” She stopped herself and shook her head. “I don’t know anything anymore.”
She was right, it was my fault that she’d become a tool in the General’s “Great Transformation,” and I thought, for the first time, that I might actually grow to hate my mom.
“I’m a murderer,” she whispered.
“You’re a mom now, too, Sarah,” I said, knowing that if she hadn’t been, I would probably already be dead. “I don’t think he planned on that part. Giving birth changed you. I can feel it.”
Sarah nodded. “Maybe, but my need to kill you isn’t gone.” Her body began to shake as she broke out in violent sobs again, and she tried to stifle her cries in the crook of her arm. “What am I going to do?”
Holding my breath to choke the emotion building up inside me, I blinked rapidly.
“You need to leave, Zoe,” she said. Her hands clenched into fists. I could feel her mind swirling with hatred, her animosity and need for blood—my blood—building to a crescendo.
I took a step backward. “I have to tell Jason. I—”
Sarah nodded. “Just…get Biggs first…please.”
Sobbing, I turned to leave, knowing this was the last time I was going to see my friend with any semblance of the Sarah I knew and loved; that Sarah was losing. She tried to stifle her crying as I walked away, and I had to fight the urge to fall to my knees. Her anguish, as well as mine, was so crushing that I tried to convince myself I didn’t have to tell Jason. That she wouldn’t act on it…
But I knew, deep down, that eventually she would attempt to complete her mission, and when she did, I would be dead. Sarah couldn’t
be trusted, no matter how badly I wished things were different.
I stepped into the sunshine and immediately headed toward the stable, where Jason and Jake stood with Harper. The moment my gaze met Jake’s, tears blurred my vision once more, and I struggled to breathe. Another sob escaped from my throat as I stepped into Jake’s arms, and I nearly crumpled in his hold. “Where’s Biggs?” I choked out. “Sarah wanted—”
A muffled gunshot came from inside the ranch house.
Devoid of thought and driven by my gut reaction, I spun, stumbling momentarily, and ran toward the house, wiping the tears from my eyes so I could see. I called out for Sarah, oblivious to any other cries or shouts around me as I flung open the screen door and flew into the house.
As my worst fear was confirmed, I fell to my knees in the entry. Sarah’s body was crumpled on the floor by the antique chair in the corner.
Screaming her name, I scrambled over to her and pulled her lifeless body into my arms. “Sarah,” I breathed, guilt and sadness making it too difficult to speak. As I readjusted my hold on her, my fingers splayed across a warm, wet opening in the back of her head, and I could only feel wetness and clumped hair against my hand.
Screaming, this time in horror, I let go, and her body fell limply back to the floor.
Biggs and Harper were suddenly beside me, Harper pulling me away from Sarah’s body and shoving me into someone else’s arms—into Dani’s.
I grabbed onto her, clasping her as tightly as I could, never wanting to let go. I refused to accept what was happening, unsure I ever could.
“I’m here, Zo,” Dani said. “I’m here. It’ll be okay.”
I was shaking my head before I realized what I was saying. “No, it won’t…it’s my fault.”
29
JAKE
MAY 25, 1AE
Bodega Bay, California
Jake walked toward the barn that seemed to glow in the dimming light, two bottles of warm formula in his hands. He couldn’t believe how much had happened in the last few hours. There were two infant additions to the group, Sarah was dead, and Biggs was so despondent he’d become a completely different person. And for reasons Jake didn’t entirely understand, Zoe had been inconsolable. Although Sarah had been Zoe’s close friend, there was something else—something in the way that Jason looked at her, in the way that Dani consoled her, in the way that Gabe and Becca hovered nearby—that made him think Sarah’s death was more than it seemed.
“—know we can’t tell him the truth, Zo.” Jake could barely hear Dani’s voice over the crickets and evening breeze. “We can’t tell any of them the truth. Not until we know who the other Monitor is.”
Jake stopped in the doorway, curious but not wanting to intrude on Dani and Zoe’s whispered conversation.
Dani peered over at him, her eyes widening with surprise.
“He already knows, sort of,” Zoe said, shrugging Dani’s concern away before her eyes quickly drifted back down to the baby girl in her arms.
For an instant, Dani seemed worried, but then she finally gave Jake a weak smile. Like Zoe, she gazed back down at the baby boy she was holding.
Remembering the bottles in his hands, Jake strode over to the picnic table where the two women were sitting and crouched between them. “Here,” he said softly and handed them each a bottle. “Chris said you’d need these.”
Dani accepted one before her gaze shifted to Zoe, expectant.
“He won’t even look at them,” Zoe said, her voice hoarse and distant. She continued to rock the infant cradled in the crook of her arm.
“Zo, Jake brought the babies’ bottles. I don’t know about that little princess, but this monster’s getting hungry.”
As if on cue, the baby girl began to fuss. Absently, Zoe reached for the bottle Jake was holding out to her. “They need names…”
Jake swallowed thickly. “Biggs said he wanted to talk to Sarah about naming them after his mother and father,” he offered, finally getting Zoe’s attention.
Her bloodshot eyes met his. “Really?”
Jake nodded. “Ellie and Everett.”
Her eyes began to shimmer, and she returned her attention to the tiny little girl. “Sarah should be here…feeding them…naming them…”
“It’s not your fault, Zo. Sarah wasn’t herself; she wasn’t Sarah.”
As much as Jake wanted to know what exactly had happened, to know how much truth was intertwined with the story he’d put together in his mind, he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Not when Zoe was so distraught.
Zoe shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. “But she was, don’t you see?” she said to Dani. “She killed herself so she wouldn’t hurt me…it’s my fault…”
“No,” Dani said, her tone firm. “It’s not.”
Zoe craned her neck to look back at her friend.
“It’s not your fault, Zo. It’s Dr. Wesley’s fault. It’s the General’s fault.”
Zoe didn’t say anything; instead she peered down at the infant in Dani’s arms. “Everett and Ellie…I hope that’s what he picks.”
“Harper’s talking to him now,” Jake said as he stood. “Hopefully he’ll come around soon.”
“Is Biggs still keeping to the living room?” Dani asked as she gazed up at him.
Jake nodded. “He’s not ready to leave yet.”
“And what exactly is Harper going to say to him?” Zoe asked bitterly. “That it was postpartum depression? That Sarah was so depressed she took her own life?” She shook her head. “It’s a lie.”
“It’s the only option we have right now, Zo, unless we want to put everyone else in danger.”
“You mean put me and Jason in danger,” Zoe corrected.
Dani took a deep, steadying breath. “And what makes you think that no one else will be caught up in this shit storm? We can’t risk telling Biggs, for everyone’s sake.” She glanced down at Everett. “For their sake.”
Approaching footsteps brought their attention to the barn door. Harper paused in the doorway before striding inside.
“How is he?” Zoe asked.
Harper shook his head. “He’s angry,” he said simply and sat down on the opposite side of the picnic table. “He doesn’t understand that this happens sometimes…that it can be too much.”
Jake could tell by the despondency in Harper’s voice, the sadness, that he truly believed that was what had happened.
“We should give him more time,” Dani said.
Harper rested his elbows on the table and rubbed his hands over his face. “Jason and Ky are digging a grave. We’ll bury her tonight and give Biggs some time to process before we move on.”
Zoe held the bottle to Ellie’s mouth as the infant began to gurgle and fuss more loudly. “Does he want to see them yet?”
Harper gazed down at the two swaddled newborns, then up at Zoe. “No, not yet. He’s not thinking clearly right now, Baby Girl. He—”
“He blames them,” she finished for him.
“They have us until he comes around. They’ll be fine.”
Zoe nodded, but she didn’t seem to be listening, nor did she seem to notice as a tear rolled down her cheek.
Jake hated that this would become just one more unsettling memory to add to those that already haunted her.
30
DANI
MAY 26, 1AE
Petaluma, California
“Should be just up ahead,” Jason said to me, pointing through a break in the trees lining the left side of the country road. We were on the floor of a shallow valley surrounded by a gently rolling sea of emerald—grasses, low shrubs, and a few clusters of wild oaks here and there, the largest of which spread out beyond a several-acre field beside the road. Jason glanced down at the map he’d folded to show this specific part of Sonoma County and added, “Just beyond that patch of woods.”
He stopped his chestnut horse, and Wings drew to a halt beside the gelding without me having to ask. Turning in his saddle, Jason scanned the rest of our s
omber group, spread out in a loose column behind us. It jarred me every time I looked at the wagon and didn’t see Sarah sitting on its high bench seat.
“Let’s hold up here,” Jason called out. “Let Dani, Zoe, and Ky do their thing.”
Zoe and Ky guided their horses up to the head of the caravan, and the three of us took turns doing “our thing.” Thankfully, neither Zoe nor Ky found anything of note in their mental examination of the valley.
We only continued our trek to the appointed farm once my animal scouts had scanned the area around each of the farm buildings, reporting that there were no signs of two-legs and that, according to a drake, there had been none since his hen’s ducklings had hatched. He showed me an image of baby ducks that had to be at least a couple weeks old.
Several hundred yards later, there was a longer gap in the windbreak of trees lining the road, and I caught a glimpse of several large structures. They were the first buildings we’d seen since entering the secluded little valley, and each had weathered wooden siding and orangish roof shingles that, even from a distance, looked relatively new.
“That must be it,” I said to nobody in particular, and a sudden thrill of excitement made me bounce a little in my saddle.
Jason was glancing at me sideways, a small smile playing on his lips.
I forced myself to be still and shrugged, feeling a little ashamed to be showing so much giddiness so soon after Sarah…after the chaos the group had been through the previous day. But the shame didn’t decrease my giddiness; if anything, it only fanned it higher. This place—this cluster of farm buildings surrounded by fenced-in pastures and patches of oak trees and land just begging to be converted into vegetable gardens and fields of grains—this was our chance for a fresh start. This was our chance to settle down someplace new to all of us, leaving behind the horrors and sadness and disturbing memories of everything we’d experienced beyond these hills.
The Ending Series: The Complete Series Page 123