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

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  Ten minutes later, we were walking out the front door. Jason paused just outside the door, pulling a key out of the front pocket of his jeans and using it to lock the deadbolt.

  I raised my eyebrows in a silent question.

  “Your grandma kept a spare key in a flowerpot,” he said. “Sort of an obvious hiding place.”

  I raised one shoulder, dropping it quickly. “Seemed like a good idea at the time…not that it matters anymore.” Wrapping my arms around my middle, I turned to stare out at the fog blocking the view of the harbor.

  Jason stepped up behind me, covering my arms with his as he hugged me from behind.

  “I miss her so much,” I said, my voice tight with sorrow, and I knew Jason would understand that I was talking about Grams.

  “I know.”

  We stood like that for minutes, remembering those we’d lost, until finally, Jason released me and stepped to the side. He took hold of my hand and raised it slightly, looking down at my ring finger. “Do you like it?” There was hesitancy in his voice, hesitancy and a hint of worry.

  I looked at him, widening my eyes in surprise. “Jason…I love it. More than I can ever express. I don’t think I could ever come up with a gift that’ll mean so much to you.”

  Jason gave my hand a squeeze. “You already have, Red.”

  I offered him a small, bashful smile and felt my cheeks heat.

  Hand in hand, we descended the steps leading down to the front yard, and I was happier than I’d ever thought was possible. We led the horses back toward the ranch, Jack loping ahead, frolicking around bushes and between houses and cars that had been parked so long that most probably wouldn’t start even if they had enough fuel.

  The sun was just beginning to slip behind the rolling hills to the east when we started up the gravel driveway to the ranch. As we passed the rustic, old barn that stood slightly to the west of the stable, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I thought I spotted Annie, strands of blonde hair flailing behind her as she ran around the corner of the barn.

  Annie giggled, and the bubbly sound was immediately followed by a loud “Shhh!”

  I raised my eyes to meet Jason’s. His face was absolutely blank…too blank. He’d planned the events that had unfolded at my house, leading to our spontaneous and unofficial-but-no-less-permanent-in-our-hearts marriage, and I was starting to wonder if that wasn’t all he’d planned.

  I craned my neck to see around the corner of the barn. “What’s—”

  But I didn’t have a chance to get any more of the question out.

  “CONGRATULATIONS!” shouted pretty much every living person I knew, which amounted to a small crowd of a little over a dozen people. Behind them on the faded red wall of the barn, the same sentiment was painted in enormous white letters, applied with enough embellishments—swirls, dots, and offshooting vines—to tell me that Zoe had at least had a hand in applying the finishing touches.

  Again, I glanced up at Jason, then searched the small crowd for my best friend. I found Zoe standing between Jake and Sam, grinning like she was just a little too pleased with herself; I was almost positive I’d never seen her look so happy.

  “Zo! You knew!” I said as we approached, pretending to be irritated though I knew she could feel every single wave of elation that poured out of me. I placed my free hand on my hip. “You knew, and you didn’t tell me!”

  Zoe’s only response to my mock tantrum was to roll her eyes. She raised her arms, holding a bunch of flowers out in front of her. As we drew closer, I realized they weren’t just a bunch of flowers, but a crown of flowers—bright orange California poppies and white and fuchsia ice plant flowers, looking like little sunbursts with a halo of long, slender petals. Beside Zoe, Sam held up his own handful of flowers, which turned out to be an even bigger, if less colorful, botanical crown.

  I couldn’t hold back the ginormous grin that spread across my face, but I also couldn’t seem to find my tongue.

  Zoe stepped forward, lifting her delicate burden so she could settle the crown on my head. She spent a few moments rearranging the curls that had escaped from my braid just so before leaning in and wrapping her arms around me in a strong, heartfelt hug. Zoe’d always been a good hugger.

  Placing her hands on my shoulders, she pulled back and met my gaze, her blue-green eyes shimmering. “I’m so incredibly happy for you.” Her gaze shifted to her brother, then returned to me. “For both of you.”

  “Really?” I said, the single word asking the thousands of questions I’d held in over the weeks since we’d left Tahoe, all variations of the same: Are you okay with me being with your brother?

  “Really.” She pulled me in for another hug. When she released me and stepped back, she was grinning from ear to ear. “Now show me the damn ring.” Her eyes flicked to her brother. “Mr. Grumpy Pants refused to let me see it before you did…even if he did use my pinkie to gauge the size…”

  I held out my left hand, showing her the immaculately carved oak Claddagh ring, and gave Jason’s hand a squeeze with my right.

  As Zoe lifted my hand higher to get a better look at the ring, her lips parted and her eyes widened. After several long seconds, she turned her gaze to Jason, finally focusing on him for more than a brief moment. “Jason, that’s…wow. It’s stunning.” She smiled faintly and shook her head. “Even Dad would’ve been impressed.”

  I looked up at Jason, too, expecting to see the gleam of emotion—sadness and regret—that usually shone in his eyes whenever his dad was mentioned, but I found only pride.

  “Zoe?” Sam said, stepping up beside her. “Do you want this one now?” He held out the larger, paler crown of flowers, clearly hoping she would relieve him of his duty as floral-crown-bearer.

  “Oh, right.” Zoe took the circlet of flowers from him and turned an obstinate glare on her brother. “Don’t you dare argue about wearing this. You put me in charge of organizing this shindig with barely a day’s notice, and—”

  “It’s fine, Zoe,” Jason said. “I’ll wear the damn thing.” But despite his words, he didn’t actually sound annoyed.

  Zoe took much less time placing Jason’s wedding crown on his head. When she finished, she reclaimed my left hand and pulled me toward the barn door, and I, in turn, pulled Jason. The door was shut, which made sense considering that the bottom half of the “U” and part of the “L” from “CONGRATULATIONS” were painted on its surface.

  Zoe led Jason and me down a path formed of two curving lines of rocks only to stop and face us when she reached the door. “Close your eyes…both of you,” she said looking from me to Jason and back. I did so immediately, grinning like a goofball, but based on her irritated “Jason…” her brother hadn’t been quite so compliant. “Thank you,” she whispered right before I heard the barn door creak open, and she tugged me forward.

  After a few steps, she stopped again. I could smell candle smoke and flowers and food—possibly baked beans or something with barbecue sauce as well as something fishy, but good-fishy, not stinky-fishy. Since I’d grown closer and closer to the animals, I’d lost my taste for meat, but I still loved seafood. My mouth watered at the thought of what kind of fish awaited me.

  Zoe arranged Jason and me carefully, making sure we were standing side by side and facing the same direction. “Alright, guys…open ’em.”

  Opening my eyes, I stared around the barn’s interior, absolutely awestruck. Bursts of white hung from the crossbeams, and it took me a moment to recognize them as windsocks and spinners of every conceivable shape and size, their only common trait their color. A long table had been set up in the center of the cavernous space and draped with several overlapping ecru tablecloths. Bouquets of colorful spring wildflowers like those in our crowns filled mason jars spaced in a line down the center of the table. Mini-bouquets and individual blooms were arranged around and between the makeshift vases, splashing color along the table in an artful, elegant pattern.

  Another long table had been set up against
the right-hand wall, and several sizes of colored glass cups and wine glasses had been laid out on one half, while an impressive assortment of liquor, wine, and beer was displayed on the other. There were large crystal bowls scattered here and there on the table, and it took me a moment to realize that they weren’t filled with colored pebbles, but with hundreds and hundreds of pieces of saltwater taffy.

  My mouth started watering; saltwater taffy was a treat I adored, and one I hadn’t had since before… “Where’d you get all of this, Zo?” I turned to her, eyes wide with wonder.

  She snickered. “Let’s just say that I had to get creative with my shopping…and that antique stores aren’t people’s first—or second or third—stop when it comes to scavenging.” She gestured behind us, and both Jason and I turned to see that another long table had been set up beside the barn door, this one holding up a couple bowls and a platter of food. “We’ve got some more stuff coming, but this should get the party started.” She leaned in closer to me, feigning a whisper. “And yes, D, that’s trout, breaded and fried and too damn spicy, just the way you like it.”

  “Where—who—”

  Zoe smiled. “Jake and Carlos took Annie to the trout farm while you were gone.” She shrugged. “They said there were so many fish they could practically scoop ’em out with their bare hands.” She waved her hands dismissively. “Enough of this, though. It’s time to pop open the Champagne.” She started toward the booze table, calling over her shoulder, “Come on in, guys!”

  I looked back at the doorway to watch my friends pour into the barn, feeling happier and luckier and more alive than I’d ever felt before. Grinning, I shot Jason a sideways glance, earning another of his secret smiles, and before our friends could swarm around us, I mouthed, “I love you.”

  Jason lowered his head and pressed his lips to mine, and the barn erupted in hoots and cheers, making it sound like there were three times as many people as there actually were. When he broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against mine, and whispered, “I love you, too.”

  25

  ZOE

  MAY 24, 1AE

  Bodega Bay, California

  “Come, Zoe.” The faceless woman was pulling me, her long fingers wrapped tightly around my wrist.

  “No!” I shouted at her, trying to tug my arm away. My heart was beating so wildly I struggled to breathe. “Let go, please!” My little-girl legs were too weak against the strong hold she had on me, and they skittered on the ground as she dragged me along.

  I held my breath and, with all the willpower I had in me, tugged my arm free.

  The woman froze, turned, and stared down at me, her featureless face somehow menacing. “I said come, now!” She was furious, and I knew, deep in my soul, that she was going to kill me.

  “What are you going to do to me?”

  She only laughed, an icy, detached sound that sent a wave of dread over me, making my blood turn cold. “I need you…”

  I whimpered. “For what?”

  “You ask too many questions,” she growled. “Shut up!”

  Choking sobs burst from my chest, my throat. “Please don’t hurt me,” I begged. “I’ll be good. I promise. I won’t ask any more questions.”

  “It’s too late for that.” With a final tug, the faceless woman flung me into a dark room and slammed the door. The air seemed to thicken, and I grabbed at my throat, gasping. The inky darkness swallowed me. As I flailed, I watched my outline come in and out of view, like I was only partially in existence.

  As the dream changed, my little sundress began to glow. My hands tingled, and I held them up in front of my face. They grew before my eyes, my palms getting bigger, my fingers longer.

  Suddenly, light was shining all around me, and I was in a white, empty room. I stared down at my adult body, my little sundress exchanged for cargo pants and combat boots. I sighed with relief.

  Hearing the clearing of a throat, I glanced up. I was standing in a room with my mom. A decrepit boy stood beside her, a hungry, maniacal gleam in his black eyes. He smiled, his teeth yellowed like his skin.

  “Peter,” my mom said. “This is your sister, Zoe. Her blood is going to save you.”

  His smile broadened.

  “Be a darling and tie her up…”

  I felt the color drain from my face. “My blood?”

  My mom waved my question away as she glanced down at the clipboard in her hands. “You’re my greatest experiment,” she said, her casualness unnerving. “Peter, please…” my mom gestured to me, and the boy strode toward me.

  I tried to step back, but my feet were glued to the ground. My heartbeat quickened. When I looked up, Peter was only inches from me, so I raised my hand to stop him. “Get away from me!”

  But he kept coming, emitting a sinister laugh.

  “Peter, don’t do this,” I pleaded, but there was nothing I could do, nowhere I could go. Before I knew what was happening, his fingers skewered my chest, and the burning sensation of five sharp blades cutting into my flesh and bone made me scream out in pain.

  ~~~~~

  In the late, foggy morning, with my hair up in a ponytail and the crisp sea breeze nipping at the back of my neck, Jason, Dani, Jake, and I sat atop our horses as they clomped lazily down the highway toward my childhood home. My stomach was in knots; the longing and familiarity I often felt when thinking of home tangled with the increasing ache of grief the closer we drew to my street. Haunting dreams and restless nights hadn’t helped my nerves at all, either.

  But I was being good; I clung to what I missed about being home. I focused on the calming, muffled sound of the waves crashing against the cove beyond the cypresses lining the highway and the occasional call of the seabirds perched on the rocky cliffs.

  “Are you okay, Zo?” Dani asked as Wings fell into step beside Shadow. The two horses craned their necks slightly to meet the other’s stare, and I wondered what silent conversation transpired between them.

  “Yeah, just mixed feelings, you know?”

  Dani gave me a quick nod and reached out to squeeze my arm. Her fingernails were just a little bit dirty, and her hands were coarse against my skin, two things the old Dani never would’ve let happen. I couldn’t help but smile.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked, her hand dropping back to her leg.

  Shaking my head, I smiled. “I’m glad you’re here with me, D.” We’d been through so much over the past few months, and we were finally together. I couldn’t help but think about how lucky I’d been. I’d crossed thousands of miles to be with her and Jason, and now here we were, starting a new chapter in our lives together.

  I turned in my saddle and looked back at Jake. He and Jason were strategizing about something; I could tell by the way Jake was nodding and offering a word here and there, while Jason drew shapes in the air. I wouldn’t have made it without Jake.

  Facing front again, I couldn’t help the cheeky grin that engulfed my face as I spotted an old pump house through the fog, peeking out from a bramble of overgrown bushes and scraggly trees.

  “What?” Dani asked, unable to resist smiling even though she was clueless as to why.

  A parade of childhood memories danced through my head. “Remember that place?” I asked, nodding behind her. We’d decorated it as our summertime hangout after fifth grade, our no-bullies, no-boys-allowed fort.

  Dani turned in her saddle. After an amused sigh, she said, “Yep. No boys allowed.”

  I grinned in a nostalgic haze. “It’s so overgrown now, I can barely even see where it was…oh, what about the hideout we made under Mr. Boogieman’s deck?”

  Dani burst into laughter. Our horses spooked at the sound, but only momentarily before they continued around the bend in the road toward my house. “That was short-lived…and not the smartest place to hang out,” she said.

  “Yeah, poor Mr. Bergman. I feel sort of bad now. But he was so creepy…” I turned to my brother. “Jason, do you remember Mr. Bergman?”

  He scoffed. “That
old guy you stalked one summer?”

  “Um, he was the boogieman,” Dani said, trying to sound affronted.

  “Weren’t you guys like eleven? Who believes in the boogieman when they’re eleven years old?”

  “Uh, he was definitely the boogieman, Jason,” I said, mimicking my eleven-year-old self. I remembered that summer so clearly, I nearly laughed again. “Remember the nights he would walk around town all creepy and in the shadows…in a trench coat?” I leaned forward and patted Shadow’s shoulder.

  “He was on the town watch,” Jason said from behind me. “You guys knew that, right?”

  “Wait…what?” Dani said. “We had a town watch?” We both turned around to see Jason.

  He shrugged and averted his eyes. “Yeah, it was pretty much just Bergman.”

  “Oh, well…it’s Bodega Bay. We had to do something to keep ourselves busy,” I said, smiling as a wave of memories, of other Zoe-Dani adventures, bloomed to life.

  We’d just gotten off at the bus stop and were walking home one afternoon when Kenny Monroe, the boy I had the biggest crush on, ran up and stopped in front of us.

  Dani and I turned to one another and exchanged confused expressions for a moment, and when I turned back to Kenny, he kissed my cheek before running ahead, disappearing around a bend in the road. I barely had time to even comprehend what had happened.

  Then there was the time in eighth grade, when Grams had to drive all the way to Tomales to pick us up after school. I’d gotten into another fight, and Dani and I had missed the bus home. Grams had been angry, but once she learned that I’d only been protecting Dani from the Nasty Neilson triplets, the gleam in Grams’s eyes contradicted her chiding words, and she offered me a silent nod in gratitude.

  “Good ol’ Mr. Bergman.” Dani sighed and shook her head.

  “Yeah, he was a trooper,” I said. “I’m sure he knew we were following him around, but he didn’t say anything.”