Out Of The Ashes (The Ending Series, #3)

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  Gabe grinned, his eyes gleaming with such fierce intelligence that he was almost frightening. “That, and it might help us with Camille’s little speaking problem…as well as a few other things.” He looked at Carlos. “Let’s take a walk, shall we? I have a few questions…”

  ~~~~~

  That night, I lay beside Jason in the tent we’d been sharing for months and stared up at the green nylon roof, unable to think of anything but my desperate need to slip into another creature’s mind. I focused on the ever-present connection that stretched between myself and Ray, who was soaring through the night sky a mile or two to the west. With a sigh, I slipped into her mind.

  I was Ray.

  It was moon-time, and I was soaring among the stars. The cool night wind sliced between my feathers, reminding me how good it felt to be alive, to fly. I beat my wings once, twice, three times, climbing higher. And then I dove, ecstatic as she-who-flies-with-me made happy sounds.

  CRACK.

  Pain in my right wing. So much pain. A flash of white.

  The ground was growing too close. I beat my wings, needing to slow my descent, but my right wing refused to move. I tried again. Again. Again. Again.

  Too late. As the ground rush toward me, I pushed she-who-flies-with-me away.

  I slammed back into my body with a scream.

  Scrambling out of my sleeping bag, I only remotely felt Jason’s arms wrap around me, one around my middle and one around my shoulders. I fought against him, needing to escape, to get outside, to get to Ray.

  “Red! Dani! You have calm down!” Jason said, his voice harsh and demanding.

  Like his words had flipped a switch inside me, I went limp, sagging back against him. “Ray…they shot Ray,” I sobbed. “Ray…”

  “What—who shot Ray?” When I didn’t respond, only sobbed harder, Jason shook me. “Dani! Who shot her? Are we in danger?”

  I took gasping breaths, trying to quiet the convulsive sobs wracking my body. “I—I don’t know. I don’t know…Ray…”

  “Yeah?” Jason said, raising his voice. “No, we’re okay. Get everyone up and gathered—no fire. Something’s happened.” He relaxed the arm he’d wrapped around my shoulders and gently stroked my sweat-dampened hair, brushing back pieces that were stuck to my face. “What happened?” he asked, his voice dropping to barely a whisper.

  “Ray…we were flying, and there was…” I swallowed several times. “A crack. And pain.” I squeezed my eyes shut at the remembered agony. “Her wing…someone shot her wing, and we were falling, and then I was back here…”

  Pressing his cheek against the top of my head, Jason exhaled heavily. “Why weren’t you sleeping?”

  “Why wasn’t I—” I wriggled out of his hold and turned on my knees to face him. “It doesn’t matter!” I said, shaking my head vehemently. “She’s out there. I can still feel her. She’s hurt badly, but she’s still alive. We have to go find her. We have to help her!”

  Jason didn’t say anything for a long moment. He blinked. Watched me. Blinked. Stared. Measured. Blinked. “Alright. The others are gathering. Let’s go talk to them.”

  I was yanking down the tent door’s zipper before he finished speaking. Barefoot and dressed in sweatpants and a way-too-big t-shirt I’d borrowed from Jason, I jogged to the center of camp where everyone was gathering, half-awake, half-dressed, and half-armed.

  “Ray’s been shot!” I said as I reached them. “We have to go find her!”

  “Shot?” Sanchez looked at me so intently that I felt certain we would be able to get to Ray in time. Sanchez was a woman who could get things done. “How far away?”

  I pointed to the west and a little south. “A couple miles that way.”

  Sanchez looked past me, and I could hear Jason’s footsteps as he jogged up behind me. “We’ve got potential hostiles to the southwest—armed,” she said to Jason. She glanced at the eastern horizon; it was just starting to lighten. “It’ll be another two hours at least until full light. We can either sit tight until we know more or move out now.”

  My heart sank like lead in water. “We have to go after Ray,” I repeated.

  “Wait, which one is Ray?” Sarah asked.

  “She’s the white falcon,” Zoe said as she skirted around the group to reach me. She slipped an arm around my shoulders and squeezed gently. “How badly was she hurt, Dani?”

  “I don’t know.” I focused on my mental connection with the falcon, opening myself up to more input. I shook my head as I listened to Ray’s terrified babbling. “She’s in a lot of pain. Her wing’s useless…she can’t fly, and her body hurts. She wants me to stay with her. She’s scared.”

  I looked around at my companions, my friends, seeing pity on their faces, but not a single ounce of determination. Nobody intended to help Ray. I shoved away from Zoe with my good arm, a wild sort of energy pulsating through me. “We can’t just leave her out there.”

  “Red…”

  “It’s a bird,” Sanchez said. “I’m sorry, Dani, but we’re not risking our lives to rescue a damn bird.”

  I rounded on her. “A damn bird?” I shouted. “A damn bird?” My chest heaved with each breath, indignation a living thing inside me. “That damn bird has done everything I’ve ever asked her to do for us. She left her territory…scouted for us day and night…warned us of other people…helped us find safe places and food…almost killed herself looking for water…” My fingers curved into claws; I wished they really were claws. “That damn bird is part of the reason we’re all still alive!”

  Sanchez raised her hands defensively.

  “Dani, calm down,” Jason said, stepping between Sanchez and me, blocking my view of the other woman. He placed his hands on my shoulders and repeated my name, drawing my eyes up to his face. “Let’s think about this. Maybe there’s another way. Could you use some of the other animals? Are there any you can send to retrieve her?”

  “I—I—” I shook my head, searching his eyes. “Maybe, okay…maybe.”

  I was in the process of scanning the area around where Ray had fallen when the falcon’s fear and panic quadrupled. Slipping into her mind, I immediately understood why.

  I was Ray.

  A two-legs stared down at me, his face inches from mine. I couldn’t move, and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to be alone, and I wasn’t, now that she-who-flies-with-me had returned. She was with me. I wasn’t alone. At least I wasn’t alone.

  The two-legs showed me his teeth, then opened his mouth and made two-legs sounds. “I see you, she-drifter.”

  He reached for me, and I tried to get away from him, but my body wasn’t working right.

  “Hush now. Sleep.”

  His hand stroked the feathers on my neck as his other hand covered my head. There was darkness. I felt—

  “No!” I screamed, falling to my knees. “No…”

  13

  ZOE

  APRIL 27, 1AE

  Great Basin Desert, Nevada

  “No!” Dani screamed, falling to her knees. “No…”

  My eyes flooded with tears as I tried to swallow the anguish pouring out of her, one tormenting wave after another. It was almost more than I could bear. Attempting to comfort Dani, to help her quell the emotions burning a hole inside her, I knelt down and wrapped my arms around her shoulders.

  “I’m so sorry, Dani.” She was completely despondent, but she let me hold her this time, and I rocked her in my arms as she sobbed. “Shhh…” I murmured. I couldn’t help the tears escaping down my cheeks as her grief consumed me. “Shhh…” I knew better than to tell her it would be okay—she was inconsolable, and even I would be forever changed by what she felt.

  As I rocked her, I brushed stray curls out of her tear-dampened face every so often, trying to keep my own wild emotions in check. The rest of the group whispered around us. Some people left to give us our privacy, while others, like Jason, stood nearby, unwilling to leave Dani in such a distraught state, but also determined to give us
space. His eyes were filled with untamed emotions, but his face remained blank.

  Only hazily could I feel the sharp concern and unease breaking through the forbidding walls he’d so meticulously constructed around himself. Dani, it seemed, was the one person who could breach them.

  I closed my eyes and held her tighter against me. “Shhh…” I whispered, and when my eyes opened, they briefly met Sam’s. He still lingered in the fading shadows of dawn, awestruck by the scene that had unfolded. He appeared more frightened than I’d ever seen him before. Quietly, Tavis nudged Sam’s shoulder, and with a nod toward their tent, the two of them retreated.

  Though her body continued to tremble in my arms, Dani’s sobs eventually lessened. Leaning away, I glanced down at her red, swollen face. She didn’t seem to notice the distance I put between us any more than she registered the chilled air sending goose bumps over her bare arms; she simply stared past Jason with dull, glazed-over eyes.

  She was numb. It was as if the life inside her had been emptied, like the way my life before had been stolen from me, leaving behind an unfillable void. There was nothing I could say to take away her pain. There was nothing I could do but hold her, reminding her that she wasn’t alone.

  Rubbing my hands over Dani’s exposed skin to help keep her warm, I glanced at Chris and found her watching us intently. I nodded at her, silently requesting her help.

  Quickly she approached us, clearly eager to do whatever she could. “I’ll get something to keep her warm.”

  “Dani,” I said, but she didn’t seem to hear me. Her thoughts were far away. I could see vivid images of her flying through the star-filled sky with Ray—the wind against her feathered face, the air crisp and smelling of damp earth. Together, Dani and the falcon felt free…wild…alive.

  “I’m so tired. Stay with me?” Cam, Dani’s late boyfriend, rasped and pulled the blankets tighter over himself. They were lying in bed, sick and exhausted.

  In a blink, the scene shifted, and Dani was sitting on top of him, hitting his torso with her hands and pleading with him to stay alive, to come back to her.

  And then, the little girl appeared, her eyes crazed and a snarl on her face before her body crumpled into a heap on the ground, fresh blood soaking through the front of her nightgown.

  “It’s not your fault,” I whispered to her, my eyes flicking to Jason of their own accord. “None of it is.” I wondered if my brother—the love of Dani’s life—had any idea how deep her scars ran, or if he knew the weight of regret she carried.

  Chris came up behind us and handed me a sweatshirt, socks, and a pair of shoes for Dani. “We need to get on the road soon,” she said quietly. Her words served as both a warning and an explanation for what she was about to do.

  Gradually, Dani seemed to thaw, blinking and peering around at the commotion in our camp instead of out into nothingness. Her emotions went from nearly uncontainable to a steady stream of muted turmoil, and I knew we had Chris to thank for that.

  While everyone bustled around camp, packing and readying the horses, I helped Dani change into her warmer clothes. After pulling her hair back into an unruly ponytail, I squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll be right back. I need to get dressed.”

  Dani’s only response was a slight dip of her head, and with a final squeeze, I left her with Chris.

  “Is she alright?” Becca asked as I unzipped our tent and stepped inside.

  I shrugged and hurriedly dressed, tearing through my duffel in search of a pair of jeans and a clean, long-sleeved shirt. “She’ll be okay eventually, but right now, I just don’t want her to be alone.”

  Becca offered me a sympathetic smile. “I’ll pack your stuff for you and ask Mase to help me load it. You should return to Dani.”

  Beyond grateful, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Thanks, Becca. That would be awesome.” I searched through my bag, vaguely aware of the fact that I was making a bigger mess for Becca to clean up, but desperate to find a hair tie.

  “Here,” she said, handing me the one from around her wrist.

  “Thanks,” I said and gathered my hair away from my face.

  I unzipped the tent and stepped back outside. I found Dani and Jason having a stilted conversation by their tent, and I had to force myself to stop a few yards behind them so not to intrude.

  “—should ride in the cart with Zoe,” Jason said.

  I watched as Dani’s dulled, green eyes widened infinitesimally. “No,” she said quietly. “I’m fine.”

  “Please, Dani,” he breathed. His back was to me, but I could hear the plea in his voice.

  “No, Jason,” she said simply and ducked into their tent.

  Rubbing the back of his neck, Jason turned around, glanced at me warily, then headed over to the horses, where Ben, Grayson, and Carlos were readying them.

  I wasn’t comfortable with Dani riding Wings either, but I knew better than to argue with her about it. There had been a controlled sort of desperation in her even tone that I could feel bubbling beneath the surface. She wasn’t going to budge, regardless of anything anyone said.

  I stepped inside her tent and helped her pack. We were mostly silent, saying no more to one another than was needed, but I hoped my presence offered her some sort of comfort all the same. As we finished folding, stuffing, and zipping, Chris came back to help Dani load her and Jason’s things into the covered wagon.

  “Thank you, Zo,” Dani said, barely meeting my eyes.

  I gave her a quick hug, and her self-loathing and despair felt more acute with the physical contact. I struggled to keep the emotion out of my voice. “Let me know if you need anything,” I said quietly.

  Dani nodded and stared blankly ahead as Chris led her toward the wagon.

  Unable to hold it in any longer, I strode away from the group and toward the stream to cry in privacy. I couldn’t help the emotions blaring in my mind, making me feel raw and unsettled.

  The tears came willingly, the remnants of Dani’s emotional maelstrom nearly choking me as I sobbed and gasped for air. Her emotions were too much, and too many. Bracing myself against a tree beside the creek, I tried to steady myself, worried my legs might give out if I didn’t. How could she do it? Was this what life was like for everyone, a convoluted mess of unwanted memories and sorrow and pain that clung to them, following them around for the rest of their lives? How could Dani—how could anyone—hold it all in, live with so much wretchedness every day?

  “Zoe?” I faintly registered Tavis’s voice amid my violent sobs. I didn’t bother trying to hide my distress. I knew it was pointless.

  “Zoe, what’s wrong?” His bucket thudded to the ground, water sloshing over the rim, and he wrapped his arms around me.

  “I can’t feel like this anymore,” I gasped, not knowing what else to say.

  Mumbling reassurances, Tavis held me tightly against him. I lay my head on his shoulder, his arms a protective shelter around me, and I focused on the methodical drum of his heartbeat and the soothing motion of his hand rubbing circles on my back. It felt good to be in strong arms, to be held.

  “I can’t do this anymore,” I bawled. “I…”

  “Shhh…” Tavis whispered. “It’s okay…you’ll be okay.”

  The crunch of debris underfoot alerted me to the approach of someone behind me, but I didn’t bother trying to collect myself. I didn’t care who saw me a blubbering mess.

  “Tav?” Sam called out, and his footsteps ceased shortly after. “Zoe?”

  “Is she alright?” Jake asked. Hearing the soft rumble of his voice, I slowly peeled my eyes open. I wished it were him holding me, but I didn’t move; my cowardice wouldn’t allow it.

  “Do you want me to get Dani?” Sam asked, and I nearly cried harder at his thoughtfulness.

  “No, thank you, Sam. I’ll be fine,” I managed. “I just need a minute.”

  “I don’t mean to rush you,” Jake said. “But they’re waiting.” A moment later, I heard two sets of retreating footsteps.

>   Pulling away from Tavis, I wiped away the hair and tears that clung to my face. “I’m okay.”

  “Are you sure?” Tavis asked. Until now, I’d been so lost in my emotional downpour that I hadn’t picked up on Tavis’s concern…and his other burgeoning feelings.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, sobering and stepping further away from him. I didn’t want him to get the wrong impression. “Thank you, Tavis.” Using my sleeve, I wiped the moisture from my cheeks again before taking a few much-needed deep breaths. “We should go,” I said and abruptly started back toward camp.

  As I tried to rally my morale, I scanned the caravan for Jake, but I didn’t see him. When I spotted Sam, who I was scheduled to drive the cart with today, sitting on horseback, I grew confused. The expression on my face must have indicated as much because Sam shrugged before shifting his attention to what I assumed was Tavis finally walking up behind me.

  “I guess I’m driving alone today,” I said with more animation than I felt before climbing up into the cart. As I took a few more steadying breaths and tried to ignore the curious, watchful faces around me, I stared out at our now-abandoned camp. It amazed me that only an hour ago, the space had been our temporary home—the area cluttered with a rainbow of tents, people buzzing around and chatting comfortably. A nomadic lifestyle was all I’d ever known, making it feel normal to me, but everyone else seemed to have acclimated to it just as well as I had.

  The cart creaked and shook as someone climbed up onto the bench seat beside me. “Hey,” Gabe said.

  He’d been keeping his distance from me, like most people had been, so I was surprised to see him sitting only a few inches away. But my surprise was quickly overshadowed by the barrage of memories that flooded my mind. I saw Jake and Becca in some of them, and my interest piqued.

  “Ah…I know that look,” he said, a line appearing between his eyebrows. “There are some matters I’d like to discuss with you, and I’d appreciate it if I could do so without you rifling through my memories.” He gave me a pointed look. “They’re private.”

  My eyes widened. “It’s not intentional,” I said a little defensively. Although I understood why everyone felt uncomfortable around me, that didn’t make it less frustrating. “But, of course, I’ll try.”