The emotion in his voice melted away my hardened intent. “I know, H,” I said, lowering my weapon. “It’s okay.” I shut my eyes and let out a deep, relieved breath. “I know what Cece was capable of.” When I opened my eyes again, Harper’s were wide and fearful, but they weren’t focused on me anymore. They were glued to some fear-provoking sight beyond me.
Feeling a rising panic, I tracked him as he jogged over to where the General crouched and murmured…over my mom’s motionless body.
I stopped breathing, the General fading from existence and all adrenaline and satisfaction snuffed away by panic.
“Move,” Harper snapped, and he pushed Herodson aside.
I slowly rose to my feet, unable to look away, unable to find my breath. I hadn’t dared to move, should a single shift in the air tip the scale, risking my mom’s life.
“I said get out of the way!” Harper shouted, shoving the General away from her body. Herodson stumbled backward, not giving Harper’s boldness a single thought as he stared down at my mom, shocked and frozen.
She’s only unconscious, I told myself, knowing my mom was nulling Herodson and the rest of his people, breaking his hold on them and making them vulnerable. Right? As I stood there, trying to convince myself that she would wake up and we would finish this and go home, everything around me seemed to happen in a slur of unfocused actions and words.
Harper’s eyes were on me, I was able to feel his sorrow. Then my dad and Jason, Jake, and Sanchez were there, their guns drawn and aimed at Herodson and the four men that were still standing behind him.
I took a step toward my mom, toward my dad and the General as they hovered over her, Harper standing aside, his eyes pinned in my direction. He was saying something to Jason, but I couldn’t hear him. My heartbeat was too loud, the only sound the blood in my veins and my rapid breaths.
“…loved you!” Herodson shouted. “All I’ve ever wanted is you! How could you?” I recognized the crack of desperation and grief in his voice, though it sounded distant and false.
“Mom?” I said, my voice only an echo. She still didn’t move.
Someone sniffled, bringing my gaze up to the cart a few horses in front of me, filled with at least a dozen bodies, both injured and lifeless, Larissa in the driver seat. So much death…
My dad leaned over my mom’s body and pushed the General away. “Get away from her, you crazy son of a bitch!” Then his fist met Herodson’s face. Smash. My dad shouted and hit him again and again, his fist and twenty-five years of anguish packed behind every punch. After that, a swirl of cursing and yelling and crunching and blood had been all I could process. “…piece of shit!” Smash. Smash. Smash.
Herodson started mumbling something, trying to regain his bearings, but my dad’s fist was unrelenting. Smash. Smash. Smash.
I’d never seen my dad so enraged, his façade so cracked. It frightened me. I could only think of one reason why my dad might risk his life and everything he had left to assault the General.
That’s when I finally realized how bad it was. The woman who had just been brought back to me, who had spent her entire life as a chameleon to protect her children and lived in a labyrinth of lies, might just have been taken away from me. All I could do was call for her, will her to answer me.
My feet started moving, carrying me toward her, but strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me into something hard and unyielding.
“No, Zoe,” my brother’s voice was commanding. “It’s not safe.”
I struggled against him, unable to take my eyes off of her lifeless body, only partially visible through the chaos of the beating my dad was unleashing on the General.
“She’s dying, Jason,” I cried, denial clouding my mind and offering me hope. “Jake can save her. She needs us! We have to help her! H, you have to do something, please! Jake!”
Jason’s arms only tightened around me. “She’s already gone, Zoe,” he whispered. “There’s nothing we can do.” The frailty of his voice gave me pause.
That’s when I had the nerve to really see. I stared past my dad pointing a gun at Herodson, for the first time seeing the blood on my mom’s face—on her body. And a moment later, I’d noticed the prongs of the tractor plow she was draped over.
My knees gave out, and I fell, Jason doing what he could to catch me. Turning into his chest, I clung on and screamed and cried. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. Everything was too hard. I just wanted it to be over, to be alright. I wanted to have my family just a little bit longer. Knowing I never could—never would—I cried harder.
Hearing my dad say, “You will never hurt anyone in my family again,” I opened my eyes, and through tear-blurred vision, I watched as Herodson wobbled on his knees, trying to stay upright. His cold eyes were swollen and red, his nose and lips bleeding.
Whether it was his physical state or his broken mind in the wake of my mom’s death, Herodson made no protests when my dad pulled the trigger—once, twice, three times—until the General’s chest was splattered with crimson and he toppled over. His eyes remained open, staring blankly at me and Jason as he took his final breath.
Chest heaving, my dad stood there, staring down at Herodson’s mangled body before gaining the wherewithal to take a few shaky steps back, over to my mom, falling to his knees. I watched the sharp edges of rage fall and soften in his features. I watched him lean down, pulling my mom into his arms. And I watched him weep, soaking the front of her shirt as he tightened his hold around her.
As much as I wanted to run to my dad, I knew to let him be, to let him grieve. Like me and Jason, he’d only had her back for a few short days, and now she was gone again, only this time it truly would be forever.
I wrapped my arms around my brother’s neck, hoping to console us both. Although I thought I felt Jason’s breathing hitch and his arms tighten around me, it had been hard to tell while I cried. I mostly cried for my mom, realizing that she would never know the world without the General, that she would never know of his death or that we didn’t have to fear him anymore.
I swiped the tears from under my eyes when I heard the rapid clip-clop of hoof beats on the road. Mase rode up to the Humvees on Ghost. He peered around at the bodies of dead soldiers littered along either side of the road before they trotted over to us. He was splattered with blood and his face swollen.
Mase brought Ghost to a halt and threw his leg over to dismount. He froze when he saw my mom’s limp body in my dad’s arms. He seemed shocked, but the expression disappeared when he glanced to the right, where Jake and Sanchez held the four scared, disarmed men at gunpoint. I knew they weren’t dangerous anymore, not without the General or Cece’s hold on them, but I didn’t care about their well-being enough to say anything.
“Half of the Re-gens showed up,” Mase explained, looking to me and Jason. “Animals came, too. But there have been lives lost, and those who are well enough are helping the injured and gathering the dead.”
The dead…
Clip clip clop.
Shadow took a clumsy step, bringing me back to the road, to the horse walking in front of me with my mom’s body draped over the saddle.
My heart squeezed and ached, and my chest tightened. I shut my eyes. Did Becca know this was going to happen?
And then I cried.
47
DANI
DECEMBER 21, 1AE
The Farm, California
Grayson and I stood side by side in front of the stable, each holding one of the twins in our arms, and waited. Vanessa and Larissa stood a few yards away, talking softly, while Becca, Peter, and Camille sat on the bench beside the stable. “It’s over,” I overheard Becca say to the other Re-gens at one point. “It’s finally over…”
For a long time, Grayson and I stood together in somber silence, rocking from foot to foot to keep Ellie and Everett dozing. For a long time, I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. For a long time, the minutes passed feeling like seconds, and like hours. Timeless…inconsequential.<
br />
We breathed, we blinked, and we rocked. Forever and for what felt like no time at all.
“Maybe we should’ve left the twins inside,” Grayson thought aloud. “There’s still time to get them settled in the crib. They’ll probably fall right back asleep.”
I looked at him, then returned my stare to the end of the driveway, where gravel met pavement. “Biggs will want to see them,” I said simply.
There really was no reason for us all to be out there, waiting for the victors to return from battle…for the funeral procession to arrive.
I could sense them approaching, fewer in number than they’d been hours earlier. Our home troops were fewer, too. Seven Re-gens had lost their lives in the battle of the farm, along with three wolves, four coyotes, a fox, and over a dozen birds and another dozen farm animals.
But Grayson and the others and I remained out in the driveway to wait anyway. We didn’t know what else to do. It was over. Herodson was gone. Dead. Finally…
But so was Dr. Wesley—Anna Cartwright. Zoe’s mom. Jason’s mom. Peter’s mom. Tom’s wife.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted movement as Annie and Sam walked around the edge of the stable. Both held handfuls of milkmaids, the small white blossoms spilling out of their hands. I watched them approach, their faces uncertain.
Annie stopped in front of me and held out the flowers, showing me her bounty.
“You picked flowers,” I said, stating the obvious. It was the only thing I could come up with. How she was standing before me rather than cowering under her nest of pillows was beyond me. Regardless of how quickly the gunfire and killing had stopped after both Cece and the General had fallen, I would have been a quivering, scaredy mess at her age.
Annie stared up at me, her big, blue eyes unblinking, unafraid. She was made of iron, this wild child of mine. “They’re for Jason and Zoe and Tom.”
“That’s very nice,” I said, readjusting my hold on Everett to free up a hand so I could comb my fingers through Annie’s silky hair.
Sam skimmed the gravel with the toe of his right boot, and Annie hopped in place, just once. “I was talking to Snowflake, and she said that whenever she misses one of her pack-mates that have gone away to the not-here, she runs through a field of flowers and watches the petals fly all around her because it helps her see that even when the flower is gone, the roots are still there.” Annie blinked once, and gave her bouquet a shake. “The plant is still there.”
Sam shrugged, his eyes fixed on the ground. “We thought that maybe thinking about it that way might help Zoe and them,” he added quietly. “It helped me.”
My eyes stung as I fought back the urge to cry.
Annie reclaimed my attention by reaching out and placing her small hand over my barely protruding belly, just under Everett’s bottom. She looked up at me and smiled the tiniest possible smile. “The baby is part of the plant, just like Anna was, and she’s only just beginning.”
“Oh, well, that’s just—just—” I stared down at my wild child, chin trembling and eyes overflowing with tears. How was it possible that this five-year-old was wiser than every adult I’d ever met in my entire life?
“We already gave some of the flowers to Peter,” Annie told me, eyes serious. “He said thank you.”
“Where’s Peter now?” Grayson asked when it became apparent that I wouldn’t be able to speak for a while yet.
It was Sam’s turn to smile that tiny, sad smile. “Sitting in the field where we got these flowers.”
A single, choking sob escaped from my throat. A moment later, I heard hooves crunching on gravel, and I looked out toward the road to see a column of horses and riders pouring onto the driveway, Jason, Zoe, and Tom in the lead. And right along with them came a fourth horse, a lifeless rider draped over the saddle.
Taking a deep breath, I wiped under my eyes, one after the other, cleared my throat, and held my head high. This was no time for either my best friend or my husband to see me blubbering. They would need me to be strong…or, at least, to appear strong. It was time for me to pay them back for all the strength they’d lent me over the years.
Jason was the first to dismount, and as he strode straight for me, Grayson leaned in and said, “Might need free hands for this welcome home, Danielle.”
Numbly, I nodded and handed him Everett, who he accepted a bit awkwardly.
Seconds later, Jason dropped to his knees before me and pressed his face against my belly. His body jerked with the strength of his sudden, uncontainable sobs.
“Shhh…shhh…I’m here,” I said, running my fingers through his hair and leaning into him. “We’re here,” I amended, and his fingers dug into my lower back, holding me tighter, bringing me closer, refusing to let go. “We’re both here. With you…always.”
48
MASE
DECEMBER 31, 1AE
The Farm, California
Mase lay on his back in bed, bathing in the morning light filtering through the lacy curtains and basking in the feel of Camille’s soft body draped partially over his. The house was quiet, most of the others still asleep, and he was happily left with his thoughts.
Mase gazed down at Camille, suppressing a grin. She always slept like that, an arm and a leg thrown over him, like she was trying to keep him from leaving her alone in their bed.
Their bed. Like leaving her, even for a minute, was even possible.
He inhaled deeply, savoring her sweet, slightly floral scent, and exhaled a contented sigh.
Camille stirred, stretching out all four of her limbs with shaking intensity, then arched her neck to look up at him. Her lips curved into a sleepy smile, her eyes barely showing any hint of gray mixed with the rich hazel anymore. Her eyes contained secrets, knowledge, a true awareness of their shared past…of their lives before.
Sure, Mase’s memories were still trickling in here and there, and Camille shared what she could with him—or maybe just what she wanted to share—by writing her own thoughts and memories out in her constant companion, her journal, but Mase doubted he would ever possess as much of his former self as Camille currently did.
He glanced at the small leather-bound book resting on the nightstand on her side of the bed. It was actually her fourth journal; the others were lined up neatly in the bookcase nestled between the room’s two east-facing windows, also on Camille’s side of the bed. If Mase were given the chance to trade his ability to speak for a full return of his memories, like Camille had, however unintentionally, he wasn’t sure he would take the deal. He liked who he was, now…where he was in life and who he was spending his life with. He wouldn’t risk losing that, not for anything.
There was a light tap-tap-tap on the bedroom door, and a moment later, it creaked partway open and Dani poked her head into the room. “Oh good, you’re up!” She opened the door further and had taken several steps into the room before she gave pause and stared at Mase and Camille, eyes opened wide and expression sheepish. “Sorry, forgot to ask if I could come in. Do you mind? I had an idea that I thought would be a kinda neat addition to what the Re-gens have planned for New Year’s. I mean, I thought it would be cool—like, sort of a sad cool, but still cool—and I wanted to see what you guys thought.” She smiled, looking uncomfortable. “And I also wanted to see if you’d help…” Her uncomfortable smile widened to an awkward grin.
Mase chuckled and waved Dani in, and as she shut the door and crossed the room to sit on the edge of the bed, Mase and Camille shifted around so they were propped up and waiting attentively.
Dani turned to face them and pulled her legs up on the bed, curling them under herself. “Okay, so I know Jason and Zoe and Tom and Peter aren’t really in the ring-in-the-new-year-with-a-bash kind of mood,” she said in a rush, clearly excited, “but I think we could turn this shindig into something that’s bigger than that, something that means more…a remembrance of the past and everything and everyone who’s gone now with a special tribute kind of thing, something that’ll last.” Dani
sucked in a breath, which Mase thought was, impossibly, her first since she’d started talking about her mysterious idea.
Crossing his arms and nodding, Mase looked at Camille. She was staring at Dani, mouth quirked to the side in an intrigued smile. A secret smile. Which only confused Mase. Frowning, he returned his attention to Dani. “Sounds interesting.” He glanced at Camille, then back at Dani, feeling like he was missing something. “What would you want us to do?”
Dani’s focus shifted to Camille. “It’s really you, Camille, who’d make this whole thing work.” She took a deep breath and rushed onward, “I know you don’t use your Ability much anymore, and I totally get it—I’d be scared of having another seizure-stroke thing, too, if I were you. I mean, I’ve burned out enough times to know how dangerous it can be to overexert our Abilities, but I also know how much harder it is to do that—like almost impossible, so far as I can tell—if you have someone boosting your Ability.” She hiked her shoulders up until they were practically touching her ears. “So, I’d totally understand if you didn’t want to do this and I wouldn’t be mad at all, but would you maybe consider using your Ability to help with this if we were super careful and we had someone to boost it?” She scrunched up her face and cringed. “Maybe?”
Camille reached for her journal and pen, opened the leather book to the spot marked by the journal’s royal blue ribbon, and quickly scrawled her response. “I’d love to—but who will boost me? Jason?” Without being asked, Mase gave voice to Camille’s words.
Dani shook her head. “Peter, actually.” She bit her lip, one lonely shoulder hitching higher. “He and Becca found me a little bit ago when I was milking the goats. Peter said he overheard my thoughts, and then Becca had a vision about it, so both offered to help.” She smiled to herself. “Peter, um—” Dani cleared her throat and lowered her gaze to the comforter. “He said his mom would’ve loved it. I guess she’d been trying to get Herodson to do some sort of a memorial or monument back in the Colony, but the bastard kept putting it off.”
The Ending Series: The Complete Series Page 170