Wings picked up on my excitement and sped up, first to a fast walk, then to a trot, until she was cantering up the road. I laughed, unable to hold in the joy of running with Wings—a feeling I’d once allowed myself to feel through her, but now had to settle for experiencing from the saddle. I caught flashes of a large white building through the trees, glimpses of what I assumed was the farmhouse.
When Wings and I reached the gravel driveway flanked by two fenced-in pastures, my assumption was confirmed, and my mouth fell open. The house was huge. And gorgeous. And belonged in a museum.
As Wings drew to a stop in front of a wrought-iron gate set between two wide stone piers, I stared at the house at the end of the drive and waited for the others to catch up. Maybe I should’ve expected our new home to be this impressive. Maybe I should’ve assumed that the New Bodega Town Council would direct us toward the farm most able to hold us all in relative comfort. Maybe I should’ve let myself believe that, for once, something good would be coming our way. But I hadn’t, and that alone made the sight so much more wondrous.
Fifty yards ahead, the gravel driveway gave way to a wide, two-story Victorian farmhouse that gleamed like a beacon shouting, “Welcome home! You’re finally home!” It was painted a yellow so pale it could easily be mistaken as white, with white window trim as well as white columns and a white bannister wrapping around the front and sides, separating a wraparound porch from the lawn below. Whitewashed stairs led up to the porch and a dark-stained, screened-off front door, to the right of which were a couple of large, wooden rocking chairs.
The patch of dense woods we’d seen from the road crept up on the left side of the house. An old wooden cottage sat across from it, and beyond that, I could see a cluster of farm buildings surrounding a wide, gravel roundabout.
The whole scene was almost laughably idyllic. Grams would’ve loved this place, I thought, and for the first time in a long time, thinking of her didn’t bring more sadness than fond remembrance.
At the sound of hooves and cart wheels on pavement, I looked over my shoulder to find Jason still hanging back in the lead of the caravan. He was watching me, smiling and shaking his head, as his horse—and behind him, the rest of our animals and people—slowly closed the distance between us.
I placed my hands on my hips and raised my eyebrows, feigning offense. “What?”
“I just love watching you ride, really ride…that’s all,” Jason said as his horse came to a halt on the left side of Wings. He reached for my hand and lifted it up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against the smooth wooden ring on my third finger.
Happiness flooded me, and I looked away, focusing on the gate, on the fields on either side of the driveway, on the gravel itself…on anything but Jason. It felt wrong to be happy, and self-loathing quickly replaced my joy.
Carlos, sitting atop Arrow, rode up to sit on my right side. The wagon, driven by Grayson, came to a halt on the gravel at the base of the driveway, the cart stopping behind it, and the rest of the horses, riderless and ridden, milling in the road.
“What’s the holdup?” Chris asked as she guided Cookie in to squeeze between Carlos and the fence. “Oh, a gate. Great.”
Jason glanced over his shoulder. “Mase! We need your strength up here.”
There was a loud thump, quickly followed by the crunching of gravel under boots as Mase jogged up to the front of the caravan, stopping behind our mounts. “What do you need me to do?”
Jason pointed to the center of the gate. “Can you force it open?”
After an unconcerned shrug, Mase made his way around Jason’s horse to the gate, stopping in the dead center. He wrapped his hands around the second bar from the middle on either side, took a deep breath, and pushed. Groaning, the gate doors slowly moved inward, a few inches, then a foot.
I held my breath, waiting…waiting…waiting…
There was a metal thwang, and Mase stumbled forward as the gates opened with no further resistance.
“Thank you, Mase,” Jason said with a nod. He nudged his horse forward, leading our people up the driveway. Looking back at me, he flashed one of his increasingly frequent, though no less devastating, smiles and uttered the same words I’d been thinking since the farmhouse first came into view.
“Welcome home.”
~~~~~
Annie screamed, but it wasn’t the squeal of joy we were all so used to hearing from her. It was a scream of outrage…of fear…of danger.
I froze in the middle of slipping Wings’s saddle off and met Jason’s eyes as he unsaddled his own horse. Without a word, I dropped the saddle on the gravel, turned on my heel, and sprinted in the direction of Annie’s mind signature; it was just beyond the opposite side of the farmhouse. I didn’t think I’d ever run so fast in my entire life.
Again, Annie screamed.
Jack raced past me as I sped across the overgrown lawn in front of the house and down the gentle slope on the other side. I pumped my arms harder, forced my legs to move even faster.
As a large pond came into view, half surrounded by wild oaks, I finally caught sight of Annie. Vanessa was struggling with her in the water. It looked like the small woman was trying to hold Annie under the water, but couldn’t quite get a good enough grip on her.
“Vanessa!” I shouted. “Stop!”
The insane young woman paused and looked up at me just long enough for Annie to lash out. Her little fingernails dragged down Vanessa’s neck, doing nearly as much damage as a small animal’s claws would have done, and Vanessa shrieked. But she also released Annie.
The little girl floundered away, crawling toward the pond’s edge.
Jack leapt into the water only a few seconds before me, snarling and snapping at Vanessa, but not actually striking. I aimed for Annie, yanking her up and out of the water and carrying her the rest of the way toward the edge of the pond.
She clung to me, sniffling and shaking and making pathetic whining noises. I didn’t bother trying to disengage her surprisingly strong little arms from around my neck or her legs from around my waist, because Jason and Carlos were only a few strides from the pond, and pretty much everyone else wasn’t far behind them.
Jason and Carlos had no trouble overpowering Vanessa. Jason dragged her up to the grass with Carlos right behind him, turned to mutter something to Carlos, then thrust Vanessa toward her younger brother. Reeling in his carefully restrained anger, Jason approached the spot where Annie and I were huddled in the unkempt grass, soaking wet and shaking and stinking of pond water.
He knelt on the ground and wrapped his arms around both of us. “Are you okay?”
I nodded, still breathing hard from the mad dash across the farm.
“But I had to,” Vanessa shrieked, drawing both Jason’s and my attention.
Jason pulled away just enough that he could watch Carlos attempt to reason with his not-so-harmless sister.
“You had to what, Nessa?” Carlos was crouched in front of Vanessa, who was sitting with her legs curled under her and rubbing her hands up and down her arms.
“Give her a bath. I had to wash her, don’t you see? I had to!”
Carlos shook his head, the gesture giving off a sense of hopelessness. “No, I don’t see. Why would you think—”
“I don’t think. I know!” she shrieked. Standing up on her knees, she reached for Carlos, clawlike fingers latching onto his sleeves. “Mom told me I’d lose her if I didn’t do it. She doesn’t love me anymore. I’m losing her, and Mom said I had to act more like her”—she threw her arm in the general direction of Jason, Annie, and me—“so Annie would love me like she’s starting to love her. I had to!”
Chris approached the pair of siblings cautiously, holding out her hands. “Shhh…” she murmured when Vanessa turned wide, wild eyes on her. “Hush now, hon.” Stopping behind Vanessa, she reached down and took hold of the smaller woman’s arm to pull her to her feet. “Come on. Let’s get you dried off and settled in.”
After a silent exchan
ge and a nod, Chris and Carlos each held onto one of Vanessa’s arms while they led her back across the lawn toward the farm buildings.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, hugged Annie tighter, and leaned my cheek on Jason’s shoulder. “What are we going to do with her?” I asked softly.
With a heavy exhale, Jason shrugged.
I pulled away just enough that I could see his face. “Do you think—do you think that Colonel Marshall might have been right? That we should—that we’ll have to, um, you know…put her down?” I said, mouthing the last part.
“No.” There was a surprising amount of conviction in Jason’s eyes.
“How can we be sure she won’t try something like this again? She could’ve drowned Annie.”
Jason hesitated, then said, “We’ll keep her locked up—in a stable stall, like we did back at the ranch.”
“Forever?” I said, my brow furrowed. “But she’ll be miserable.”
Again, Jason shrugged. “As miserable as Carlos would be if he lost her again?” He shook his head resolutely. “The kid’s been through enough. I’m not putting him through that.”
I sighed and pulled away further, uncrossing my legs in preparation to rise. “I suppose you’re right.”
~~~~~
About an hour later, after Annie and I had washed off in the creek that fed the pond and were dressed in cleaner, drier clothes, I walked the little girl back toward the farmhouse. We were just approaching the front steps leading up to the porch, me eager to get a peek inside, when Ky opened the front door.
“Let her air out a bit first, ’kay?” he said through the screen door.
Annie stepped onto the first stair and gave my hand a tug, but I didn’t budge. “Bodies?” I asked.
Ky nodded. “Looks like a married couple.”
I grimaced. “How bad is it?”
“Just a ruined mattress. Jason and Mase are taking it out back to burn with the bodies.” He lifted his shoulders, offering me a slight smile. “But the good news is, they’ve been dead long enough that the smell’s faded a bit. Should have the place aired out enough to be livable by tomorrow…if we keep every single door and window open.”
I gave him a halfhearted thumbs-up. “Awesome.”
“Don’t worry, D, it’ll be worth the wait. This place is pretty damn sweet.”
“Awesome,” I said, more genuine this time.
Ky’s focus shifted to Annie. “I’ve got somethin’ for you, kiddo,” he said as he pushed the screen door open and walked out onto the porch, one hand held behind his back. I couldn’t stifle the tiny twinge of fear caused by not knowing what was in that concealed hand.
Stop it, I told myself, forcing a smile. We don’t know anything for sure, and besides, he has no reason to hurt Annie or me. But after Sarah…I couldn’t not think about it.
Giggling, Annie tugged on my hand again, and this time, I let her go. “What?” she asked as she ran up the stairs. “Present?” We still hadn’t moved beyond one-word sentences most of the time, but at least her spoken vocabulary was growing more varied.
Ky grinned down at the little girl practically bouncing with excitement right in front of him. “Does ‘Mr. Potato Head’ mean anything to you?”
Annie shook her head.
“Well, kid…you’re in for a surprise.”
I laughed softly as I watched Ky crouch down to Annie’s level and present her with the way-too-big-to-be-a-potato toy and Annie examine the thing with serious intensity. “Can you keep an eye on her for a bit?” I asked Ky. “I want to check on Carlos…and Vanessa.”
Ky nodded. “Harper’s with them in the barn, cleaning up the damage caused by this little monster.” He ruffled Annie’s wet, blonde hair.
Annie swatted his hand away absentmindedly, frowning as she figured out how to open the latch on Mr. Potato Head’s rear end to get to the goodies rattling around inside.
When Ky noticed me lingering, he made shooing motion. “Go. I got this.”
Smiling my gratitude, I turned away from the porch steps and headed toward the cluster of farm buildings surrounding the roundabout. I’d yet to explore anything, only having come back to the roundabout—where we’d left the horses in all the Annie–Vanessa hubbub—to retrieve soap, towels, and clean clothes for Annie and myself before washing up in the creek.
The horses were all gone; a quick telepathic scan told me they were in the pasture on the far side of the driveway, along with the goats. The cart and wagon had been parked haphazardly between the cottage and a large, well-kept old barn. There was also a stable on the opposite side of the roundabout from the barn, and a long building, whose function I wasn’t quite sure of, between the two.
Making a mental note to explore everything thoroughly later, I hurried toward the barn. Both of its double doors had been slid open, likely to let in as much daylight from the bright, spring sunshine as possible, but to my eyes, the interior looked completely dark aside from dozens of tiny lights glowing like stars near the ceiling. As I neared the doorway, I stared up at the crisscrossing strings of twinkly lights in confusion. Carlos had to be powering them, which made sense; what didn’t make sense was why they were there in the first place.
Only when I stepped inside and lowered my eyes did I begin to understand. A handful of tables—maybe a dozen—were set up deeper in the barn, draped with pale tablecloths and set with centerpieces of withered flowers in shades of yellows, oranges, and browns. It took me a few seconds to realize that the farm must have rented out the barn as a wedding venue to make some extra money—and from the looks of it, there’d been a wedding right before the outbreak, and they’d never had a chance to clean up afterward. Or the wedding never happened…
The site was eerie, a haunting echo of the way the world used to be. For some reason, those tables and chairs, covered in a layer of dust and still set up for a celebration that may never have happened—a celebration whose attendants may very well all have died in the last six months—were far more unsettling than the idea of the dead couple being evicted from their farmhouse just a short ways behind me.
I heard a whistle, and snapped my head to the right, my heart beating double-time.
“Didn’t want to startle you,” Harper said with a casual wave.
He, Vanessa, and Chris were sitting at the right-most table, Harper’s chair turned to face Vanessa, and Chris’s right behind her. Carlos was leaning against the wall beyond the table.
With a smile, Harper returned his attention to Vanessa, wiping a cotton swab over the scratches on her neck. I was about to join them when I heard approaching footsteps crunching in the gravel behind me.
“There you are,” Zoe said as I turned around. She had a swaddled infant in either arm and looked the picture of the quintessential exhausted new mom…except for the part where she wasn’t a new mom, or a mom at all. “Here,” she practically groaned in relief as she unloaded one of the slumbering babies into my arms. “I need a break from double-duty.”
“Um…okay,” I said, accepting the warm little bundle. “Which one is this?”
“Ellie…pink blanket,” Zoe said. She readjusted Everett in her arms and, turning, started walking toward the corner of the barn, away from the driveway and farmhouse.
I watched her walk away for a few steps, then looked down at the tiny little person I was suddenly holding.
“D,” Zoe said. “Are you coming?”
Only when I looked up again did I realize she’d stopped and was watching me, apparently waiting for me to accompany her. I caught up with her, moving slowly so I wouldn’t wake the newborn, and we rounded the corner of the barn in silence.
“So…I’ve been thinking,” she said. “I really think we should tell Biggs the truth.”
“Zo—”
She skewered me with guilt-filled eyes. “He can’t be a Monitor, right? So what’s the harm in—”
“Dani!” Annie shrieked as she ran around the corner of the barn, just a short ways ahead. “Look!” Sh
e came to a skidding halt in front of me and held up Mr. Potato Head—the poor guy had arms for eyes, an ear for a mouth, and sunglasses and a mustache growing out of the right side of his body—just as Ellie stirred in my arms and started to emit a stuttering wail.
“Fabulous,” I muttered.
31
ZOE
MAY 28, 1AE
The Farm, California
It was first thing in the morning and I’d already been awake for a few hours, tending to the needs of my demanding charges. I was in the kitchen, Annie and Sam eating their morning cereal while I made my third cup of coffee.
“Hey,” Jake said as he walked into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around me.
“Howdy.” I poured a generous cup of coffee for me, a little bit in a spare mug for Jake, and then more in mine, deciding I needed it more than he did. I’d learned to take advantage of every free moment I had without the twins, which meant eating, drinking coffee, and sleeping as much as I could were fair game.
Annie smiled at Jake, but soon a full-fledged grin engulfed her face. “Babies!”
“Babies?” Jake said.
After taking a much-needed sip of coffee, I turned around to find Camille walking away, leaving Jake with Everett in his arms.
Sam stifled a laugh, while Annie burst out in a bout of giggles that woke the infant Jake held awkwardly against his chest. Fussing and screaming ensued. Amused, I watched Jake as he stared down at Everett like he was wondering what the hell to do with something so tiny and loud.
Shifting Everett, Jake held him out away from his body. “Something’s wrong with him.”
I laughed. “Something’s always wrong; he’s a baby.”
Jake stared at Everett a moment longer before tucking him into the crook of his arm. He glanced up at me, and I quickly looked away, pretending I was focused more on cleaning up my coffee mess than on Jake’s discomfort.
Everett’s face reddened and his screams grew louder by the moment.
“Maybe he’s too hot,” Jake said, and he began to unwrap Everett’s blanket from around him.
The Ending Series: The Complete Series Page 124