Gabe, Harper, Tom, and Chris were sitting in mismatched chairs arranged in a semicircle around the bed, doing a poor job of keeping calm while they discussed my situation. More like argued about my situation…
“The data couldn’t be any clearer,” Gabe exclaimed. “So long as one set of contributing DNA is stable, the embryo has a chance to make it over the crucial hurdle to the fetus stage and—”
“The data’s clear?” Harper cut in. “It was collected from a study done on pregnancies with a one-hundred-percent fail rate—”
“And Sarah.” Gabe’s retort was a perfect verbal jab.
“Whose gametes had to have been stable for years, according to the letter from Zoe’s mom.” In my mind’s eye, I pictured Harper waving a hand irritably at the letter that Gabe was no doubt brandishing like it was the Rosetta Stone of this new era of human reproduction.
“But Biggs’s weren’t,” Chris said.
There was the sound of chair legs scratching on hardwood, then quick, heavy footsteps as someone—Harper, I thought likely—started pacing around the room. I cracked my eyes open a smidge to confirm. “Yeah,” he said. “But Biggs wasn’t the one carrying the child. It was Sarah—the genetically stable of the two.”
Gabe scoffed; it was a rough, ugly sound. “How many times, in how many different ways, do I have to explain to you that that doesn’t matter? As long as either the egg or the sperm is genetically stable—”
“And how many different times do I have to remind you that you’re hypothesizing?” I’d never heard laid-back Harper so worked up. I knew that he and Gabe tended to rub each other the wrong way and, as a result, didn’t spend much time together, but I hadn’t realized just how combative their relationship had become. “Jesus, man, you’re not even a medical doctor; you’re a geneticist!”
“And you’re a medic.” Gabe’s four simply stated words filled the infirmary with silence.
“Would you both knock it off? Here—now—isn’t the time for this discussion,” Zoe said, her voice cool and level. It reminded me painfully of the tone her brother’s voice took on when his patience had run out and the time for unquestionable commands had arrived.
Someone cleared a throat. Someone else coughed. The tension grew, becoming thick and choking. My interest in remaining in the room was quickly waning, though I doubted that either Harper or Gabe—or any of the others, for that matter—would be willing to let me leave. No, I was stuck in that room until all five of my nurses and doctors were satisfied that I was in tip-top baby-growing shape.
Or, at least, my body was stuck in that room. My mind, on the other hand…
I sought out Jack’s mind and found him herding Annie around the beehives while Carlos tended to our fuzzy, buzzing little friends. I searched for Wings’s mind next, thinking we might resume our carefree run through the pasture, but she was happily grazing, and I didn’t want to disturb her. I’d been avoiding creating too close of a connection with birds since Ray’s death, but the idea of flying, the feeling of the crisp winter air streaming all around me and of breaking the chains of gravity, at least for a little while, was immensely appealing.
So I started scanning the avian minds nearby, searching for a bird of prey. A huntress. That sounded like exactly what I needed at the moment. To feel free and powerful, not vulnerable. Not weak. Not pathetic. Plus, I had the mother of all prey to hunt for—her.
“Excuse me.” Becca’s voice pulled me back to my body, and I opened my eyes to find her standing in the doorway. Every time I saw her, I was reminded of our conversation about love—about the costs and benefits, about its worth—and every time, I chickened out and didn’t ask her if she’d known what would happen that day. I didn’t think I was ready to handle the repercussions if she’d really had a vision. The blame I would place on her would be brutal, the blame I’d place on myself unbearable.
I glanced around the infirmary. The others stared at Becca, owllike and apprehensive—exactly how I felt.
Finally, after doing a long, slow scan of the room and all of the faces within it, Becca’s eyes met mine. A small smile curved her lips. “You will not lose the baby.”
A collective exhale filled the room.
But Becca wasn’t done. “So long as you stay on this farm until the baby is born, it will live.”
“Wait, what?” I blurted. “Why? What’ll happen to the baby if I leave?” I couldn’t wrap my brain around how this geographical location could be so important to the livelihood of my—of mine and Jason’s—child.
“An unborn child cannot be safe and healthy if its mother is not safe and healthy,” she said as though her words made any sense at all.
“Becca,” Zoe said, drawing the young Re-gen’s name out, “what are you saying?”
Becca turned violet-gray eyes on Zoe. “If Dani stays on the farm until the child is born, both will be fine.” Her eyes shifted to me. “But if you don’t, you will most likely die.”
~~~~~
I was a seagull. I swooped and climbed and dove, riding the swirling air currents gleefully while I searched for an area of stability to glide with ease.
She-who-flew-with-me wished to search the coastline for the one she called mate-killer, a female two-leg she’d been hunting for days. I would aid in her search, gladly. The only thing better than a good hunt was a good, long fly, and the search for mate-killer afforded me both.
Mate-killer was a danger to her young, she-who-flew-with-me told me. Mate-killer couldn’t be allowed to roam free. A danger to one’s young must always be eliminated. It is known. It is the way of things.
“Dani?”
I felt she-who-flew-with-me pull away enough that her thoughts were no longer an extension of mine. I willed her to stay with me. The hunt was far from over.
“Dani?”
She-who-flew-with-me pulled away further, until I could sense little more than her gratitude and her farewell. And then, between one flap of my wings and the next, she was gone.
“Mase?” I knew it was him sitting beside the infirmary’s twin bed before I’d even opened my eyes, so familiar was his steadfast presence. Re-gens’ minds felt different than those of us still living our first—and hopefully only—lives, but like the rest of us, each Re-gen mind was unique and, if I’d spent enough time with them, easily recognizable.
I opened my eyes, taking in Mase’s troubled features barely a foot from mine. I shifted my head away on the pillow, just a smidge. “Everything okay?”
Mase straightened in the chair he’d situated beside the bed. “Sorry. I thought maybe you’d actually fallen asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you if you were getting good rest.”
I offered him a relieved smile and shook my head. He was such a considerate, kind soul; a valuable reminder that one should never judge a book by its cover, so to speak. He might’ve looked big and mean and scary with all of his bulky muscles and tattoos, not to mention that his resting expression was essentially a scowl, but he was the gentlest of giants. At least, he was when he didn’t fear for the lives of those he cared about.
“I was just drifting,” I told him, “so don’t worry about it.”
He returned my smile with a grateful one of his own.
I did a quick scan of the room. “Where’s Camille?” I knew he wouldn’t take the question as me being underwhelmed by his solo visit—the two were always together, with Mase literally functioning as the petite Re-gen’s voice whenever necessary.
Mase’s smile wilted. “She’s with Becca.” He shifted in his chair, leaning forward a little and resting his elbows on his knees. “She believes Becca has been hiding things, and while I was skeptical at first, I now believe Cami might be correct.”
My gut told me she was right, too, but I didn’t voice that opinion just yet. Instead, I worried my bottom lip with my teeth while I thought of how to respond. “What changed your mind?”
Mase took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Cami was with her before she came up here to deliver
the prophecy about the baby.” He glanced at the open doorway to the hallway, then leaned in a few inches more. “I wasn’t sure whether I should tell anyone else—I didn’t want to make you all mistrust her, because I know her, and I have never known her to do something malicious, so I feel certain that her intentions are good—so I thought I should ask you. You always know what the right thing to do is.”
I snorted my disagreement with that statement. “If you say so.”
“You do,” Mase said earnestly. “You helped us find a way out of the Colony—away from Father—and helped us find a home.” He paused. “You helped us find a way to be together. We owe you everything.”
I smiled and broke eye contact, more than a little uncomfortable with his praise. “It was nothing,” I said, barely a murmur.
“It was everything,” Mase said, his words filled with so much conviction that I couldn’t not meet his stare. “And you must know that Cami and I would do anything to keep you safe.” He smiled a slightly shy, slightly eager smile. “You and your baby. We’ll be here, no matter what.”
Tears welled in my eyes more quickly than I could’ve imagined. When they spilled over the brim, I didn’t even bother to swipe them away because they were happy tears, the result of a suddenly overflowing heart. While the thought of bearing Jason’s child was comforting simply because he or she would be his, it was also the most terrifying thing in the world. Now was a horrible time to raise a child, this world a terrible place filled with dangers and struggle and the always-present possibility of starving or falling victim to a Crazy or a cruel or greedy survivor. But to realize that Mase and Camille would be there, not to mention the rest of my companions on the farm, two-legged, furred, or feathered…it was more comforting than words could ever express.
“Thank you, Mase,” I said, my voice husky and my smile wobbly. “That means everything.”
He grinned. “You are a sister to me. I’ll always be here when you need me. Cami and me, both.”
My smile faltered as my thoughts returned to Camille and the reason for her absence. “What happened with Becca?” I asked gently. “What made you doubt her?”
Mase’s expression grew serious, and if I hadn’t known him better, I would’ve thought it was a scowl. “Before she left Cami and came up here, Cami overheard Becca say to herself, ‘It is time.’”
I stared at him, frowning. “I’m not quite following you…”
“She knew,” Mase said. “She knew of the pregnancy and that you would need to remain on the farm but didn’t say anything. She knew, but said nothing until it was ‘time.’” He scowled in earnest. “It makes me wonder what else she knows but doesn’t say.”
Anger was suddenly an inferno burning in my chest. I couldn’t avoid the possible truth any longer. “Do you think she knew what would happen to Jason?”
Mase blinked once and straightened in his chair. “I—I don’t know.” He narrowed his eyes. “Do you?”
“I’m not sure.”
“But you suspect it.” He cocked his head to the side. “Why?”
“It was a conversation we had a few days before Jason—before that day.” My eyebrows drew together as I thought back on what Becca had actually said, not on what I’d been twisting her words into in the darkest recesses of my mind. “She was asking about love, about whether it was worth the potential pain and loss.” I shook my head, finding that my memory of her actual words wasn’t nearly as damning as I’d made it out to be. “She said that even with her visions, tomorrow is never certain, and that she needed to know if the good balanced the bad where love was concerned, because as a Re-gen, she doesn’t always feel things so strongly…she can’t always relate.”
Mase nodded as I recounted what I remembered, his eyes squinted thoughtfully. When I was finished, he remained silent for several more long, deep breaths. “I can see why her words have troubled you.” He paused, his stare distant. A moment later, his eyes refocused on mine. “But I think it’s just a coincidence…or maybe, if what she said relates to her visions, it has to do with something else. Becca never does anything without purpose, and I do not see what effect those words could have had on the outcome of that day,” he said, emphasizing the final two words just as I had.
I frowned. “I suppose…”
“You and Jason were already in love, had been for some time. I think it is more likely that she sought your opinion to determine whether or not she should interfere in the yet-to-be-formed relationship of another pair…or maybe she was asking for more personal reasons?”
I rolled his words around in my head, testing their weight, measuring their merit. His points were valid, his logic sound, echoing things I’d wondered myself. Relief blossomed in my chest, and I smiled broadly. “You know what, Mase?”
His eyebrows rose.
“I think you’re right.” I laughed softly. It felt like it had been ages since I’d laughed, but it died quickly. “I think I’ve been seeing monsters where there are none.” I reached out and took hold of his hand, finding further amusement in the extreme way that it dwarfed mine. “And I think you and Camille should give Becca the benefit of the doubt too…for now.”
Mase glanced at the doorway sidelong. “Well, it’s a little late for that. Cami’s talking to her right now.”
“I know.” I gave his hand a squeeze. “But maybe don’t blow the whistle on her just yet.”
Mase looked at me quizzically.
Smiling to myself, I shook my head. There was nothing like having a Re-gen around to remind me just how confusing our language could be. “Don’t tell the others just yet. Like you said”—I shrugged one shoulder—“she’s never shown anything but the best of intentions.”
I forced another smile, ignoring the four little words that whispered through my mind.
The road to hell…
12
ZOE
DECEMBER 9, 1AE
The Farm, California
Kneeling in the damp earth, in a row of overgrown herbs, I reveled in the sunshine beating down on my face, heating my clothes like on a warm summer day and causing me to sweat despite the brisk breeze. I wasn’t sure how I’d survived on the east coast for so long. The wind and rain storms in California were nothing like the harsh, snowy winters in Massachusetts, but I’d needed the sun on my skin all the same—to refuel the depleted parts of myself that had resulted from endless hours indoors.
Although working with Dani in the herb garden she and Harper had been tending since summer wasn’t one of my usual activities around the farm, it was the perfect task today. I was able to bask in the bone-thawing sunshine while keeping an eye on my pregnant, emotionally wrought best friend. Although the search for Jason’s body or the woman trader hadn’t been officially called off, it wasn’t lost upon me that after this long we likely wouldn’t find them, and I knew we needed to keep busy if Dani was going to be able to take care of her baby the way she needed to. Besides, it was nice to do something with my hands that didn’t result in calluses, splinters, or cramping from holding a pencil for too long, though it had been a while since I’d done any of that even.
I wiped the perspiration from my forehead with the back of my hand and ventured a quick glance at Dani, who was weeding a few rows ahead of me. She was covered in soil and dead, leafy debris, like me. And she was humming, a sound I hadn’t heard from her since Jason disappeared. This was good…the pregnancy was good. I allowed myself to smile.
In the last twenty-four hours, I’d worried a lot that Dani might struggle with the idea of having and raising a baby without Jason by her side, but I’d had it backwards. This baby—this piece of Jason—seemed to be the one thing bringing Dani back to life.
Almost happily, I plucked off a few dead leaves and put them in my nearly full bucket. We’d been at it for a couple hours—crouched in the soil—picking and pruning and focusing on the rotted or burned greens that didn’t look like they belonged in the numerous teas that Dani often made to remedy my cramps or help me s
leep. And after I collected the mulchy decay that gathered around the base of one plant’s stalk, I sidestepped and knelt by the next. It felt good to start working again. We needed to busy ourselves, Dani and I, to refuel and find some form of normalcy while Jake and my dad were still out, tirelessly searching for Jason’s body. They wouldn’t let go. Part of me hated myself for trying, and my lingering smile faltered.
Harper’s chuckle as he exited the farmhouse and trekked toward us drifted over on the slight breeze. After wiping my brow again, I squinted up at the sun. It was directly above us, perking everything up that was soggy from foggy days and lack of sunshine.
“Hey, D?” I said loudly, so she’d hear above her humming.
She looked up from her yarrow plant—one of the only plants I could easily recognize, since it was a wildflower that grew all along the coast. “What’s up, Zo?” She wiped the sweat from her own brow as she turned and squinted at me.
My eyes flicked to the sun and back. “It’s getting pretty warm. Maybe you should take a break…get some lunch or something to drink.”
Dani frowned and glanced from Harper, headed toward us, to me.
I knew that look. “You’re not hungry, are you,” I said, feeling a prick of disappointment. She’d been trying to eat more, but it didn’t seem to be getting any easier for her to keep much down.
With an audible breath, her hand instinctively went to her belly. “I’ll find something. Maybe some crackers or—”
“Hey, ladies!” Harper called as he strode closer.
The Ending Series: The Complete Series Page 141