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

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  I glanced over my shoulder to see Zoe approaching, Everett nestled peacefully in her arms. “See for yourself,” she said as she neared. She paused just long enough to say, “Consider it practice,” barely containing a smile as she handed Everett to Jason, then continued on her way up to the tables.

  I rolled my eyes. Why she suddenly wanted to add more screaming babies to the mix was beyond me.

  Jason stared down at the baby that had suddenly appeared in his hands, then looked at me, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “What was that all about?”

  I smiled wryly. “Let’s just say she’s not beyond using any means necessary to finagle some help with the babies. As it turns out, motherhood is hard, having twins is harder, and raising someone else’s twins is turning out to be the hardest of all.”

  ~~~~~

  An hour later, we were all seated at the tables on the patio, empty bowls in front of us and only a few stray biscuits remaining in the baskets set in the center of each table. Zoe’d retreated into the farmhouse with the twins to put them to bed as soon and Jason and I had handed them back over to her, and she’d yet to reemerge.

  Harper reached for another biscuit and glanced at Jason, who was sitting on my left. “So, what’s the plan for tomorrow? Infirmary’s good to go, or as good as it can be with the supplies we’ve got right now.”

  Jason brushed biscuit crumbs off his hands while he chewed his final bite. He nodded slowly as he swallowed. “We’ve got to head into town, stock up on what we need to get this place running.”

  “I’d like to come along,” Harper said before tearing off a quarter of the biscuit and popping it into his mouth.

  Again, Jason nodded, the motion slow and contemplative. “That works.” He shifted his eyes to me. “You up for a day trip?”

  I smiled but shook my head. For some reason I couldn’t explain, I felt like if I left the farm, I might never return. And beyond that, I wasn’t the right person for the job, not while my Ability was burned out. “Much as I’d like to go with you, I think I’m more useful here, with the animals.” When Jason didn’t respond, only blinked, I continued, “Ky’s just as good at scouting, anyway”—I looked at Ky, who raised a shoulder—“and way better in a sticky situation. You three boys go…scout stuff…do manly things.”

  Meeting Jason’s eyes, I stared into their unfathomable depths until he shifted his attention to Ky and Harper.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Ky watching us with a strange intensity, but when I looked at him fully, whatever I’d seen was gone, and he wore his usual lazy smile.

  “Right, so here’s the deal,” Jason said. “We’ve got four objectives tomorrow: assess Petaluma for any present or future dangers to the farm, load up on the seeds on this list…” He paused to tear a piece of paper out of the notebook he’d been writing in when he’d been talking to Grayson, handing it to Harper. “I know there are a few seed banks in town. They were big on sustainability and that grow-your-own-food shit here, before…”

  “Good for us,” Harper commented.

  “That it is,” Jason said with a nod. “We’ll also load up on medical supplies, and search any bookstores, libraries, or anywhere else we can think of for books on”—he looked down at his open notebook—“managing an orchard, gardening, sanitation, irrigation, food preservation, composting, beekeeping…”

  “I’m glad you’re staying tomorrow,” Grayson said from across the table, and it took me a moment to realize he’d been speaking to me. “I know you have some knowledge about herbs and such, and I thought you might be interested in converting the vegetable garden, or at least part of it, into an herbal garden.”

  “Oh…yeah. That would be great, actually.” His timing was perfect, uncanny even, considering what Carlos and I had talked about briefly during our walk up to the well pump.

  Grayson smiled, excitement lighting his eyes.

  Jason gave my shoulder a squeeze and leaned in to press a kiss against my cheek. “Are you done? Because I am…”

  Harper and Ky reached for another biscuit at the same time, and as their fingers brushed, Harper jumped to his feet, knocking his chair backward, and pulled his pistol. He leveled it at Ky’s chest.

  Ky did the same, only he aimed his gun at Jason.

  The rest of us froze.

  The backdoor to the farmhouse slammed open, and Zoe yelled, “Jason! Ky’s one of them!”

  “Don’t do it, man.” Harper’s voice was a low warning.

  “You don’t get it. I have to do it,” Ky said, right before he pulled the trigger.

  CRACK.

  Jason’s body jerked, and I screamed.

  CRACK.

  CRACK.

  Ky stumbled, knocking his chair backward.

  I didn’t understand what the hell was happening. I pulled my own handgun, but I didn’t have anywhere to aim it.

  Ky slumped on the ground, his arms hanging uselessly at his sides, his legs sprawled in front of him akimbo, and his chest rising and falling rapidly as he gasped for breath. Blood stained his lips as well as the front of his t-shirt, turning fabric that had once been faded green almost entirely crimson. He was staring past me, at Jason.

  I glanced over my shoulder as horror knotted in my gut, a writhing, visceral feeling. Blood streaked down Jason’s sleeve, and my stunned brain finally processed Zoe’s words. Ky was one of them—a Monitor. And something had triggered him, and he’d attempted to carry out his mission…to kill Jason.

  If Harper hadn’t seen, if he hadn’t been ready…

  I shook my head, unable to believe what was happening.

  Ky was a Monitor. Ky tried to kill Jason. Ky…my friend.

  “Sorry…man,” Ky managed to say between gasping breaths.

  “I know, Ky. I know,” Jason said. “Fuck!” There was so much hurt and rage and desperation in his voice that it shredded my heart.

  “Do it,” Ky whispered. “Kill…me.” He let out a ragged breath, and blood bubbled on his lips. “I won’t…stop…”

  “Damn it, Ky!” Jason shouted, finally losing the battle with his emotions. “God…”

  “Oh, God,” Zoe groaned and met my eyes. “It was me, in the stable, when I mentioned my mom…he was listening…” Her eyes closed, and tears broke free, glistening on her cheeks. “I triggered him.” She slumped lower in her chair, hanging her head in her hands. “It was me…”

  “Zo…” I wanted to go to her. I yearned to go to her, just like I yearned to go to Ky. But I couldn’t. Not yet.

  “Alright, this is what’s going to happen,” Jason said, raising his unsteady voice. “We’re going to remain nice and calm while I explain how this extremely fucked-up situation isn’t what it looks like. Harper didn’t just shoot Ky in cold blood.” He looked at Harper. “Please, see if there’s anything you can do for him.”

  I watched as Harper made his way to Ky while the others exchanged nervous, confused glances.

  Beside me, Jason took a deep breath. “Here’s the truth. My mother”—he practically spat the word—“is Anna Wesley, the General’s pet doctor.”

  I watched the others’ faces as he spoke, shock and horror widening their eyes, twisting their familiar features into masks of outrage and disgust.

  “The General keeps her on a leash by dangling the constant threat of death—mine and my sister’s—in front of her. He placed Monitors close to us, people with hidden commands to eliminate us if she ever tried to contact us.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “Well, she contacted us, Ky found out, and he just tried to kill me.”

  “It’s…true,” Ky wheezed, and I risked glancing down at him. He was staring at Jason, his eyes both empty and imploring. “It’s true.”

  There was a long moment where nobody said anything. Crickets sang. Frogs croaked. An owl hooted. But nobody said anything.

  “And if any of the rest of you are like him,” Jason said, “if any of you come after my sister or me, I will kill you.” His threat hung in the air until the othe
rs lowered their guns, and I did the same.

  My eyes drifted to Ky and Harper, and I finally got my first up-close look at Ky’s wounds. My throat constricted, and my eyes burned with the need to shed more tears than I already was. Ky wasn’t going to make it. I didn’t think even a transfusion of Jake’s blood could fix him…he was just too damaged.

  I felt a hand grasp mine, and I looked to my right to see Zoe standing beside me, her face a mask of grief that mirrored mine. I gave her hand a squeeze, then reached for Jason’s with my left and threaded my fingers through his.

  But he didn’t look at me, didn’t tear his eyes away from Ky. His Monitor. His best friend. Who was dying.

  Ky coughed, drawing my attention to him. His lips curved into a sorry attempt at a smile that lasted about a second and was driven away by a grimace. When his features relaxed once more, he stared up at Jason. “Not…your…fault…”

  And then he exhaled for the final time.

  33

  ZOE

  MAY 28, 1AE

  The Farm, California

  “It is our fault…it’s all our fault,” I breathed. Seeing Ky lying there, another friend bloody and lifeless, was too much. “Sarah…” I closed my eyes, the image of her lifeless body still fresh in my mind. “And now Ky…”

  “What about Sarah?” Biggs said.

  I spun around to find him standing behind me, shocked and confused, with a crying Everett in his arms. “I heard gunshots…” As he registered the horror on my face, my regret, his grip on Everett tightened, like he knew to steady himself for another blow.

  I lost what final shred of composure I had left, and my silent tears turned to violent sobs. “Biggs, I wanted to tell you—”

  His eyes darted around the group; everyone was quiet, shocked and waiting. “Tell me what?”

  Fists clenched and my heart pounding emphatically, I took a step toward him. “Sarah was one of them, a Monitor. I’m so sorry. I saw everything right before…”

  His brow furrowed. “A what?”

  “She was going to kill me—she was trying not to—right before she went into labor, but she—she couldn’t.” I took a shaky breath. “She sent you away because she knew what she had to do.” My chest felt so heavy, so tight, I struggled to breath.

  “What the hell are you saying, Zoe?”

  I tried to swallow back my cowardice. He needed to know, Biggs deserved to know. “Sarah killed herself to protect me.”

  His eyes hardened with understanding. The burn of guilt only intensified as I watched his features twist with anger and felt his mounting sadness all over again.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, bracing myself for what might come next. As I exhaled, I opened my eyes and said, “It wasn’t depression, I—”

  Biggs glared at Harper. “You lied to me?”

  “He didn’t know,” I croaked. “No one did but me and Jason.” Although that wasn’t exactly true, there was no reason to share the blame. Our friends were dead because of us.

  For a fleeting moment, Biggs’s features softened, and I knew he was thinking about Sarah, relieved she hadn’t taken her life because of the babies, because she’d regretted having them. But then his eyes found mine, and I held my breath. “I blamed myself…I blamed them, and it was your fault. You allowed me to think—”

  I let out a choked sob and took another step closer. “I wanted to tell you, Biggs.” I let the tears fall freely, let his anguish fill me the way it was filling him. “I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I—”

  “You could’ve,” he growled. “You could’ve, but you didn’t.” And before I knew what was happening, Biggs was storming back toward the house, Everett’s fussing turning to bloodcurdling screams.

  Body numb and clumsy, I ran after him. “Biggs, please don’t—”

  “Leave me alone, Zoe!” He stomped up the stairs and flung open the screen door. “Stay away from my children.”

  I froze. “Biggs, please…”

  The screen slammed in my face. What’s he going to do? When I heard him march up the stairs, when I felt his resolve and disgust and hatred for me, I knew. Sadness flooded through me.

  Flinging open the screen, I ran in after him. “You can’t leave, please don’t leave. We can help you.”

  Biggs ignored me as he strode into his room, placed Everett in his crib, and pulled out his duffel.

  “Please don’t do this. Please don’t leave. I want to help, I want to—”

  “Get. Out.” He stopped and glared at me. “I said, get out.”

  My presence was only making him more despondent, more outraged, so I reluctantly straightened and backed out of his room. I wished he would listen, wished he would stay. “I am sorry,” I warbled. “I am so, so sorry.” Biggs was going to leave, to take the twins, and there was nothing I could do to change his mind.

  “You’ll never come near my children again,” he said so evenly I knew it was true, and I sobbed harder as he slammed the door in my face.

  JUNE

  1AE

  34

  DANI

  JUNE 16, 1AE

  The Farm, California

  “I can see why the dream freaked you out so much,” Zoe said. She was kneeling beside me in the overgrown grass surrounding the mound of dark earth over Ky’s still-fresh grave. A simple wooden headstone with his name and dates marked the head of the grave. Jason was working on gathering the tools and materials needed to create a more permanent, granite gravestone, but it would still be a while.

  A couple of blessedly quiet weeks had passed since Ky’s death and Biggs’s retreat to New Bodega with the twins. We felt the loss of all of them deeply, but we couldn’t afford to dwell on what was gone; we had to focus on what we still had. We had to keep going. We were slipping into a routine of long hours and hard work that felt a little more natural every day. The Farm wasn’t quite a well-oiled machine, but it was getting there.

  Thinking about the nightmare that had left me clammy and breathing hard early this morning—a vivid replay of me shooting the child-Crazy a few months back—I nodded to Zoe. “I mean, I know the little girl was a Crazy and was pretty much about to rip your face off, but…I just…” I groaned in frustration, reaching out to rearrange our daily offering of wildflowers over Ky’s grave for the third time. “She was barely older than Annie…and I killed her.”

  Zoe took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. I could see that it was practically painful for her not to take over my meager efforts to create a visually pleasing pattern, but I appreciated that she restrained herself. I needed to do this, but I was grateful that she made time to visit Ky’s grave with me every day.

  “Personally, I like having my face,” Zoe said. “You did what you had to do to protect me when I couldn’t protect myself.” She grabbed my wrist and squeezed. “Thank you for doing that, D.”

  I bit my lip, then squeezed my eyelids shut and nodded once. “You’re welcome, Zo. I don’t know what I’d do if—if—”

  “I know, D. Me too.”

  I opened my eyes and stared into hers; they were so startlingly blue, so wonderfully familiar. “I love you, Zo.” I loved Jason with all of my heart, but in so many ways, Zoe really was the other half that fit perfectly with my soul.

  Zoe’s arms were suddenly around me, and we were both stifling convulsive sobs. “God, D…I couldn’t do this without you. I really couldn’t.”

  I pulled away and wiped my cheeks, not the least bit embarrassed at my impromptu display of soppy affection. After all, what was the point of surviving the apocalypse if I couldn’t tell my best friend how much I loved her every once in a while?

  My eyes drifted to Ky’s temporary grave marker. We’d erected one for Ben, too, right beside Ky’s, though we didn’t actually have Ben’s body; we had his memory. At least it was a way for the brothers to be together. They deserve that.

  Zoe grabbed my hands. “D…”

  I leaned away a little and eyed her.

  “D!” she repeated,
practically bouncing on her knees.

  “What?” I shook my head, totally confused.

  “You just spoke in my head!”

  I continued to shake my head. My latest period of electricity-induced Ability burnout had proved to be the longest yet, lasting well over two weeks. It had only just ended a few days ago, and it had been fluctuating unpredictably since it had come back online.

  Zoe squeezed my hands. “You said, ‘At least it’s a way for them to be together, they deserve that’—but you said it in my head!”

  As I continued to shake my head, I realized that something inside me had changed—I could feel her mind. I felt an enormous, wondrous grin spread across my face. I could sense people again. For the first time in months, I could speak to them telepathically. My Ability was fixed. I was fixed!

  I searched the farm for one specific mind and found it within seconds. “Guess what, Jason? I’m back…”

  35

  JAKE

  JUNE 17, 1AE

  Bodega Bay, California

  After giving their names at the heavily guarded wall, Jake and Jason rode their horses into New Bodega, construction plans and “shopping” lists rolled up and strapped to their saddles.

  “They should have one of those serpentine belts somewhere, right?” Jason asked.

  Jake nodded, leaning down and patting Brutus’s shoulder. “Yeah, but the question is whether or not they’d let me use one…or three.”

  “We have plenty to barter with, I’m sure.”

  Jake shrugged as a thought occurred to him. “I guess if they don’t have any quarter-inch belts, I can look for a different-sized chain,” he said. “Although I’m not sure a chain would be as efficient.”

  “I’ve got to stop in the hardware store, too. I need a few more clamps if I’m going to get that additional shed up before the first wave gets here from Tahoe. I just hope the shop has some.”

  Jake tried to imagine making room for another group of people on the Farm. “When’s that happening?”

  Jason squinted out at the harbor as it came into view. “A couple weeks. They’re just passing through. When Dani checked in with Lance last night, he told her there’s another farm a few miles past ours that’s ready to be worked if there are willing, capable bodies. And Holly and Hunter said they have a few group members who are more than willing.”