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

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  Sarah started pacing again. “I don’t understand.” She let out a whimper. “I don’t understand. It’s all a goddamn lie! What am I supposed to do? What am I—” When she glanced up again, it was like she was noticing me for the first time. She stopped in her tracks, tears pouring down her face as she wrapped her arms around her belly. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Zoe,” she wailed and fell to her knees.

  “Oh my God, Sarah, be careful!” I said, closing the distance between us and kneeling beside her. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, trying to steady her shaking body. “What the hell happened?”

  Completely despondent and unable to formulate a single coherent word, Sarah continued to sob. Unsure what I should do, I pulled her tighter against me, my love for my friend clouding the fear I should’ve been feeling in seeing her true past, in feeling the burning hatred she intermittently felt for me.

  Purposefully, I watched a storm of jumbled images flash through her mind…images that made the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stand on end.

  Sarah was walking beside a man in fatigues, her clothes changed into jeans and a cardigan, her hair down and bouncing with each leisurely step, and a softer expression on her face and a shimmer of innocence in her eyes.

  I balked and stared down at my wailing, quivering friend. A torrent of emotions assaulted us both: resentment, terror, determination, eagerness mixed with affection, gratitude, guilt, and uncertainty.

  “Sarah?” I said, recalling the night I’d dug around in her mind and had found nothing like the two lives I could now see commingling as one.

  Sarah and I were in her bedroom back in St. Louis, jumping up and down and giggling so much that we could barely breathe. Biggs was there, standing in the doorway, and upon simply seeing him, adoration filled her entire being…

  …Sarah, wearing her black pants and combat boots, was kneeling on the ground. A murderous look hardened her features as she dragged a blade across an old man’s throat. His eyes were wide with terror before his face, twisted in pain, slackened as he bled out in Sarah’s arms. Her expression was blank, except for the victorious glint in her eyes.

  I swallowed the dread nestled thick in my throat.

  Sarah and Jordan walked in through the front door of my house in Salem, both smiling at me. Sarah proffered her hand in greeting, like she was a completely different person than the woman holding the knife…

  The truth was glaring me in the face, suffocating, and I resisted the urge to scream.

  I was sitting on my bed back at Fort Knox, Sarah brushing my hair…

  …Sarah was watching over me while I slept, crying with concern as I lay in the hospital bed…

  …Sarah was sitting at my kitchen table back in Salem, eating my food in my house, watching TV in my house, even when Jordan was out of town or at work.

  I struggled to reconcile the two versions of the woman in my arms—trained, dangerous Sarah and bubbly, naive Sarah, who I’d grown to love almost like a sister. Having known it was possible, even likely, that she wasn’t who we—who she—thought she was didn’t make the realization any easier as I watched each memory of our experiences together fuse with those of a Sarah I didn’t recognize, a Sarah I didn’t trust, a Sarah who was frightening.

  A Sarah who was trained to kill me.

  “I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, clutching onto me desperately. “I don’t know what’s happening to me, I don’t understand—” She let out an agonizing cry and clutched her stomach. “Oh my God!” She struggled for breath. “The babies…something’s wrong with the babies…”

  “Shit,” I hissed. As she knelt beside me, gasping in excruciating pain, I let the impending truth of her betrayal fall by the wayside, and my instincts took over. “Come on, Sarah. We’ve got to get you inside.”

  She screamed again as I tried to lift her. “I can’t move, Zoe. I can’t—” Another piercing scream echoed through the late morning, and I hoped that by the time I could get her to her feet, the others would be there, ready to help.

  “Hold on, Sarah. We’ve got to get you inside—”

  “I can’t,” she breathed. “It hurts so bad, I—” She let out another bloodcurdling scream.

  Squeezing her shoulders, I stared into her eyes. “Sarah, you can’t have your babies in the dirt. You would never forgive me. We have to get you up.”

  Biggs and Harper barreled around the corner of the shed, horror filling Biggs’s eyes. They were still dressed in their gear from going into town to scavenge, but their jackets and gun holsters didn’t inhibit them—especially not Biggs. He fell to his knees on Sarah’s other side.

  “Babe,” he gasped. “Are you alright…is it the babies?”

  Sarah let out another wail in answer, and Harper helped Biggs lift her up to take her into the house.

  “Sarah, you have to relax,” Harper said. “It’s just like we practiced—”

  “I can’t relax!” she snarled.

  “Deep inhale, Babe. Please,” Biggs begged, smoothing her hair back from her face.

  She did as she was told, but the pain from the contractions made it difficult for her to concentrate for long.

  “Zoe, we’ll need the blankets and towels from the trunk in the cart, and I need my medical bag. Hurry—we don’t have long.” Harper’s voice was controlled as he and Biggs made their way toward the house with Sarah propped between them.

  I nodded, staring into Sarah’s frightened eyes, before turning to run toward the barn.

  “Zoe,” Harper called. “Get Chris, too; we’re gonna need her.”

  “Okay!” I said and picked up the pace.

  “What can I do?” Dani asked as I sprinted past her and Annie.

  “Get Chris, and we’ll need water and soap for anyone doing any handling.” Dani nodded and hustled away, leaving me to gather Harper’s medical bag and the towels and blankets.

  When I finally arrived back at the ranch house, out of breath, Chris and Biggs were helping Sarah settle on the makeshift delivery bed consisting of carefully arranged couch cushions on a small kitchen table. Dani straightened as she finished laying the sheet over it, and I nearly flung myself at her in gratitude. Her work at the ranch years ago, combined with her more recent, temporary use of it as a safe haven mere months ago, provided her a familiarity with the place the rest of us lacked.

  Dani glanced from me to Sarah and back, her face scrunched in sympathy. I had to fight the urge to run to her, to cry into her arms and tell her what I’d seen—that I was finally certain Sarah was a Monitor. But Sarah’s screaming diverted my attention, sobering my thoughts and bringing me back to the urgent task at hand.

  Becca ran inside, the screen door slamming behind her and a wide-eyed look on her face. “Here are more pillows,” she said.

  I pointed to Dani, who grabbed the pillows, layering them behind Sarah’s head to prop her up a bit more. Sarah offered Dani a brief, tight smile of thanks, and my stomach knotted. As harmless as Sarah appeared to be in the midst of giving birth, I couldn’t ignore the unease I felt at seeing my best friend standing so close to someone so dangerous.

  Sarah’s eyes met mine, and I saw the roaring emotions and pain darkening them.

  “Zoe?” Harper said, making me jump.

  I shook my head and stepped closer, nearly stumbling on the tangle of clothes and gear that he and Biggs had shed in the chaos of moving Sarah. I handed Harper his medical bag and started gathering up the pile of gear from the floor and dumping it onto the seat of the antique armchair that had been pushed into one corner.

  “Thanks, Baby Girl,” Harper said, distracted as he opened his bag. “Biggs, get her breathing leveled out or she’s going to hyperventilate.”

  Biggs and Chris were murmuring reassurances and instructions to Sarah, while Becca, Dani, and I stood by, dumbfounded and waiting for another command.

  Becca glanced at me. “I’ll be outside with Carlos,” she whispered. “Let us know if you need anything else.” The way she singled
me out and squeezed my arm reassuringly made me wonder if somehow she knew my insides were riddled with fear and sadness—or if maybe she’d had a vision of what had happened to Sarah, that she knew a war had broken out in Sarah’s mind. A war Sarah was losing.

  I nodded and flashed Becca a grateful smile before moving closer to Harper.

  Sarah shrieked in pain, her screams coming one after the other.

  “Can you give her something for the pain?” Biggs asked, panicked.

  Harper shook his head. “There’s no way it’ll kick in fast enough. It all happened too fast…”

  “What now, H?” I asked, my voice sounding steadier than I felt.

  “The babies are coming,” he said, pulling on a clean pair of gloves. “Wash your hands and put on a pair”—he tossed the box of gloves to me—“because you’re gonna help me deliver these poor kids. Otherwise they might be deaf by the time they get here.” He winked at me, a Harper gesture of reassurance, but I could feel his fear building as he readied himself for the delivery.

  Even though he hoped Sarah’s twins would be okay, he knew that her situation was so far beyond normal that there were no certainties…but then, there never were in childbirth.

  Harper scrutinized me with his shrewd, green eyes. “Stop digging, Baby Girl, come on.”

  Steadying my nerves, I did as Harper said. I took a step closer to Sarah, and once again, her eyes flitted to mine. Her gaze was filled with pain and fear and hatred that she tried to quell. Her face was ruddy, her skin covered in a sheen of sweat. Wisps of hair were matted to the sides of her face, and her eyes squinted shut as she wailed.

  Chris stood on one side of Sarah, Biggs on the other, each squeezing one of her hands while she faded in and out of bouts of pain. They were doing their best to soothe her, to shift her mood and mute her overwhelming pain, but their efforts only dulled it slightly.

  I did what I could to help Harper, being another set of hands when he needed it and holding Sarah’s legs down when she started to move around. After a few more minutes, Sarah’s pain was almost more than I could bear; it resonated inside of me, bringing the sting of tears to my eyes.

  And then, Sarah let out another agonized grunt, and Harper had a screaming baby in his arms.

  He looked up at me, smiling.

  “It’s a boy,” I said, an uncontainable smile engulfing my face.

  “A healthy boy,” Harper said more loudly.

  There was relieved laughter and whispers as Harper cut the umbilical cord and moved to hand Sarah her baby boy.

  She shook her head. “No, I—” She began screaming in pain again, her body tensing.

  Quickly, Harper handed me the baby, refocusing his attention on Sarah. “Here comes the other…”

  She screamed again, her eyes shut tightly as she tried to clench away the pain.

  “I know it’s hard, Sarah, but try to relax. This one should be quick.”

  There was more screaming and Sarah cursing at Harper, but as Harper predicted, the other baby arrived within minutes.

  “It’s a girl!” I said. “You have a baby boy and a baby girl, Sarah.” I tried to hand her the amazingly precious little boy who had begun to fuss in my arms, but again, Sarah pushed him away.

  Tears were streaming from her eyes as she tried to catch her breath. Uncertain what to do, I handed the baby to Chris instead, while Harper passed the baby girl to Biggs. He accepted the infant, but his gaze was fixed on Sarah, confusion and pain twisting his expression, nearly breaking my heart. When he tried to hand Sarah her baby girl, she pushed Biggs away.

  “No,” she snapped. “Get them away from me.”

  Biggs stood there, stunned.

  “I said take them away!” The confusion, disgust, and shame she was feeling greatly outweighed her love and adoration for her new family.

  The room quieted, everyone’s eyes on Sarah.

  “Just get out!” she yelled, and my heart nearly stopped, fear replacing my concern for her.

  After exchanging glances with one another, Chris and Biggs filed hesitantly out of the room, a baby cradled in each of their arms. Dani looked up at me, worry filling her eyes, as she, too, followed them out of the room, leaving Harper and me alone with Sarah. I glanced over at her; her hands were covering her face, and her body was convulsing as she sobbed.

  “Why don’t you give us a minute, Baby Girl,” Harper whispered.

  “No,” Sarah said, her head snapping up. “I want to talk to Zoe…alone. Please.” She sounded as conflicted as I knew she felt.

  Harper took a step toward Sarah. “We need to clean you up and—”

  “Later,” she said. “I need to talk to Zoe.” She must’ve noticed my uncertainty. Her eyes flicked from me to Harper and back. “I just had twins. I’m not going to bite you.”

  I let out a dry laugh as Harper squeezed my arm reassuringly and walked out. Part of me wanted to call him back, but I didn’t. I needed to talk to Sarah about what was happening to her, about the memories I’d seen. I needed to know how far gone she was before I told Jason, before he interrogated her or worse.

  Once I could hear Harper outside, I took a step toward Sarah.

  She took a deep breath and shook her head, more tears escaping down her cheeks. “I don’t know what’s going on,” she croaked. “I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

  I stood a few feet from her, unable to relax no matter how adamantly I tried to convince myself that she could never bring herself to kill me. “I know you want to hurt me. I’ve seen—”

  “But I don’t,” she said desperately. “At least, part of me doesn’t…”

  I could feel Sarah battling with her own emotions, using her children, her family, to ignore her building need to put a bullet in my head, to spill my blood. “I know what I’m supposed to do. Trying to deny my mission is like trying not to breathe.” There was a sharpness to her voice I’d never heard before. Regardless of Sarah’s determination to ignore the dangerous part of herself, she was failing, and we both knew it.

  “You’re my best friend,” she said like she was trying to convince herself it was true. Despite her calmness, she was only holding on by a thread.

  When Sarah looked up at me again, her brown eyes were bloodshot and filled with more unshed tears, but her mouth was tensed and anger pulsed inside her. “This is your fault,” she bit out. “Your whole family’s—your mom’s…I wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for you.” Her tone was scathing.

  Almost immediately, Sarah clamped her hand over her mouth. “I’m so sorry, Zoe. I didn’t mean that. I know it’s not your fault, I—” She stopped herself and shook her head. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

  She was right, it was my fault that she’d become a tool in the General’s “Great Transformation,” and I thought, for the first time, that I might actually grow to hate my mom.

  “I’m a murderer,” she whispered.

  “You’re a mom now, too, Sarah,” I said, knowing that if she hadn’t been, I would probably already be dead. “I don’t think he planned on that part. Giving birth changed you. I can feel it.”

  Sarah nodded. “Maybe, but my need to kill you isn’t gone.” Her body began to shake as she broke out in violent sobs again, and she tried to stifle her cries in the crook of her arm. “What am I going to do?”

  Holding my breath to choke the emotion building up inside me, I blinked rapidly.

  “You need to leave, Zoe,” she said. Her hands clenched into fists. I could feel her mind swirling with hatred, her animosity and need for blood—my blood—building to a crescendo.

  I took a step backward. “I have to tell Jason. I—”

  Sarah nodded. “Just…get Biggs first…please.”

  Sobbing, I turned to leave, knowing this was the last time I was going to see my friend with any semblance of the Sarah I knew and loved; that Sarah was losing. She tried to stifle her crying as I walked away, and I had to fight the urge to fall to my knees. Her anguish, as well as mine,
was so crushing that I tried to convince myself I didn’t have to tell Jason. That she wouldn’t act on it…

  But I knew, deep down, that eventually she would attempt to complete her mission, and when she did, I would be dead. Sarah couldn’t be trusted, no matter how badly I wished things were different.

  I stepped into the sunshine and immediately headed toward the stable, where Jason and Jake stood with Harper. The moment my gaze met Jake’s, tears blurred my vision once more, and I struggled to breathe. Another sob escaped from my throat as I stepped into Jake’s arms, and I nearly crumpled in his hold. “Where’s Biggs?” I choked out. “Sarah wanted—”

  A muffled gunshot came from inside the ranch house.

  Devoid of thought and driven by my gut reaction, I spun, stumbling momentarily, and ran toward the house, wiping the tears from my eyes so I could see. I called out for Sarah, oblivious to any other cries or shouts around me as I flung open the screen door and flew into the house.

  As my worst fear was confirmed, I fell to my knees in the entry. Sarah’s body was crumpled on the floor by the antique chair in the corner.

  Screaming her name, I scrambled over to her and pulled her lifeless body into my arms. “Sarah,” I breathed, guilt and sadness making it too difficult to speak. As I readjusted my hold on her, my fingers splayed across a warm, wet opening in the back of her head, and I could only feel wetness and clumped hair against my hand.

  Screaming, this time in horror, I let go, and her body fell limply back to the floor.

  Biggs and Harper were suddenly beside me, Harper pulling me away from Sarah’s body and shoving me into someone else’s arms—into Dani’s.

  I grabbed onto her, clasping her as tightly as I could, never wanting to let go. I refused to accept what was happening, unsure I ever could.

  “I’m here, Zo,” Dani said. “I’m here. It’ll be okay.”

  I was shaking my head before I realized what I was saying. “No, it won’t…it’s my fault.”

  29

  JAKE

  MAY 25, 1AE

  Bodega Bay, California

  Jake walked toward the barn that seemed to glow in the dimming light, two bottles of warm formula in his hands. He couldn’t believe how much had happened in the last few hours. There were two infant additions to the group, Sarah was dead, and Biggs was so despondent he’d become a completely different person. And for reasons Jake didn’t entirely understand, Zoe had been inconsolable. Although Sarah had been Zoe’s close friend, there was something else—something in the way that Jason looked at her, in the way that Dani consoled her, in the way that Gabe and Becca hovered nearby—that made him think Sarah’s death was more than it seemed.