I turned and looked down at the ground. A large body was stirring, struggling to sit up.
I took a step closer. It was Jake again—no longer a teenager—completely stunned as he scanned the area around him, trying to orient himself in the dark, imposing forest. Midnight shadows blackened his eyes as he listened…waiting.
The dog barked again, and with a jolt, Jake tried to stand. He lurched forward onto his hands and cursed in pain. Reaching an arm behind him, his fingers found the hilt of a knife protruding from below his left shoulder blade. He froze in a moment of both confusion and understanding.
“Bennington! You son of a bitch,” he rasped.
Twisting his arm further behind him, Jake groaned and wrapped his fingers around the knife’s handle. He struggled to pull the blade from between his ribs and roared in pain. After a long, painful moment, he used a tree for leverage and gradually climbed to his feet, letting the combat knife fall from his hand. It landed on the ground with a muffled thud, and his hands clenched at his sides.
Spotting a handgun lying on the ground near his left boot, he struggled to bend down and pick it up. Shoving it in the waistband of his pants, Jake stumbled toward the distant barking.
“Cooper!” he yelled, and his steps faltered.
Almost instantly, the forest disappeared, and a room coalesced in its place. It was illuminated solely by a floor lamp that stood in the corner between a leather couch and an antique secretary desk. Becca, now a grown woman, stood in front of the desk, facing Jake—her nearly violet eyes familiar yet resolved to do something unthinkable.
“Gabe promised they won’t hurt you,” Jake said, a pleading look in his eyes. “Come on, Becca. We’ll figure this out, but we need their help.”
Hands behind her back, she shook her head slowly. As she did, the ends of her mussed, dark hair brushed her collarbone.
Uncertainty gnawed at Jake. He didn’t trust the military men fanned out behind him, assault rifles at their sides. But he desperately wanted to trust Gabe, his closest friend.
Becca blinked, her lips parted in a slight smile, and she pulled her hands out from behind her nightgown. Her fingers were wrapped around the handle of a long, slim kitchen knife. Without hesitation, she rammed the blade into her stomach, angling it up into her heart. Her legs gave out instantly, and she crumpled to the floor. A mixture of pain and relief twisted her delicate features.
What followed seemed to happen in a single second. Jake fell to the floor beside his sister’s writhing body with tears in his eyes. Becca coughed as she tried to speak, blood staining her teeth. I strained to hear her, but her words were inaudible to me.
Spinning around, I looked at the four men standing behind me. Three of them aimed their rifles at Jake, who was still crouched on the floor. Beyond them, Gabe stood in the doorway, his face horror-stricken. He wore fatigues like the other three men, but he wielded no weapon.
Hunched over Becca’s now motionless form, Jake was shaking. “Get them out of here!” he yelled. “You knew…You lied to me!”
“I didn’t…,” Gabe choked out. “She needed help.”
Stirring from sleep, I opened my eyes to see the stark walls of one of the trauma rooms surrounding me. I’d unintentionally fallen asleep at Jake’s bedside. His burned and bandaged body was lying to my right. Harper stood on the other side of the bed, checking Jake’s vitals.
As I sat up, I gently released Jake’s bandaged hand from my grasp. I stretched, and Cooper, asleep at my feet, stirred from his slumber.
“How’s he doing?” I asked Harper, my voice only a whisper.
He peered at me with tired eyes and rubbed the scruff on his face. Softly, he said, “Hey Baby Girl, I thought you were asleep.”
“I was, but he’s dreaming. It makes it hard to sleep.”
“Slow-wave sleep…that’s a good thing,” Harper assured me.
“So, he’s doing better?” I wondered how it was possible for Jake to heal—any normal person burned so badly wouldn’t have survived.
Harper sighed and observed his patient for a moment. “Yes, but it’s hard to tell how much better. It’s only been a handful of hours. I’ve never really seen burns like these…not to mention had a patient with the potential to heal so quickly.” Harper paused, deep in thought. “I’m not sure what to expect.”
Glancing down at his clipboard, Harper assessed his notes. “His heart rate is still slower than I’d like, but he’s stable and apparently dreaming. I’m just trying to keep him hydrated and as pain-free as possible at this point.” Harper looked at Jake. “He’s going to have to do the rest.”
Jake was having another brief moment of semi-consciousness, and I could feel his sudden rush of panic and misery. He’s in pain…but his pain means he’s still alive…
“Can we give him more morphine?” I asked as Cooper rose and rested his head on my knee—his ears perked forward and his doggy eyebrows raised. I absentmindedly scratched the back of his neck.
Harper looked from me to Jake. “Is his pain getting bad again?”
Nodding, I repositioned myself in the chair beside the bed. I hadn’t left Jake’s side since Sanchez and Harper had bandaged him up. It didn’t matter that my clothes were dirty and that my hair was a tangled mess from struggling against Sanchez on the ground.
Time seemed to have slowed after the fire, hours feeling like days. “What time is it, H?”
“Late. You should get some rest—real rest. I’ll stay with him,” he offered, injecting more morphine into the in-line of Jake’s IV.
By the smell of smoke that lingered on me, I knew it was time to shower. “Alright. Are we cleaning up in the locker room downstairs?”
“Yep. There are scrubs you can put on for now,” Harper said, jotting something down on his clipboard. Yawning, he sat in a chair on the other side of the bed.
“Do you wanna grab some coffee or something first?” I asked. “I’ll stay with him until you get back.”
“Good call.” Harper stood, yawning again. “I’ll be right back.”
I gave him a sympathetic smile as he left. My face felt swollen and dry, and my eyes burned. As I watched Jake’s chest rise and fall, I wondered if he could hear us talking. Cautiously, I bent over him.
“Jake,” I whispered. “I’m really pissed at you. I can’t believe you did this…and I can’t believe you rescued my stupid sketchbook. What made you think of such a thing? You better not have gone back for it or something ridiculous like that.”
I struggled to maintain my irritation, knowing that if I could stay frustrated with him, then I still had hope he’d survive. “We can argue about that later,” I promised.
My vision became blurry with tears. “Tanya didn’t make it,” I continued quietly. “Dave and Stacey are gone too, but you probably already knew that. We’ll have a burial for everyone before we leave, at least that’s what Sanchez said. We’re leaving as soon as you get a little better. It’s not safe here with Clara out there…somewhere,” I explained. Cooper yawned and I glanced down at him. “Cooper’s watching over us,” I said and smiled. “Anyway, after we stock up at the PX again, we’re going to head west to Sarah’s house. We’ll be safer there until you’re fully recovered.”
A giant lump grew in my throat as I thought about what Clara had done. “How could she do this? I just don’t understand.” At the thought of Dave and our other friends’ suffering, I wiped away a tear.
I stood and started pacing to settle my nerves, but questions still tainted my thoughts. “I should’ve known something. I’ve been practicing. After she poisoned me, I started listening to everything.” I was frustrated that all my practice had been for nothing. “I don’t understand.”
Recalling what Biggs had said about Clara’s escape—that her cell had been unlocked—I tried to think of a solution. “Who let her out? Who would? None of us would’ve. Did she somehow force someone to do it?” My mind raced…too many questions, too few answers.
“Take a break, Zo
e.” Sanchez’s voice echoed in my head as I heard her footsteps in the hall. She paused in the doorway, looking comfortable in baggy scrubs, and her wet hair was pulled back into a ponytail.
“Where’s Harper,” I asked.
“He was falling asleep standing up, so I told him to get some down time.” Sanchez walked into the room and took a seat on the other side of the bed. “Go ahead and get cleaned up, I’ll watch him.”
I looked at Jake once more, told myself he could only get better, and made my way downstairs to the locker room. Digging through a stack of clean scrubs, I searched for something that might fit me. Finally settling on a mismatched set—a blue top and green pants—I headed for the showers.
Although the hot water was soothing, I didn’t revel in it as I usually would. I was in a daze. Dave’s dead. I couldn’t prevent myself from imagining his final moments. Did he burn to death? Was it the smoke? Was Stacey with him, or was he alone? My chest felt heavy at the thought of him dying alone.
We all could’ve died today. Even under the warm water, the realization made me shiver.
My head was still pounding from the earlier barrage of other people’s emotions—terror, sorrow, guilt, relief—and from witnessing Jake’s dreams. Embrace it, Zoe. You’re alive. I ran my fingers through my soapy hair. As it fanned down my lower back, I considered whether cutting if off would be more…practical.
After I’d finished showering, braided my hair, and dressed, I headed back upstairs toward one of the empty hospital rooms Sarah had readied for us, only stopping when I heard Biggs’s muffled voice coming from behind a metal door. I tiptoed closer to the door and leaned in to listen.
“…to make a choice. We can’t do both, we lost too much fuel in the fire,” Biggs said.
Harper grumbled something indiscernible. More loudly, he said, “Then we have to go.”
“How do we move him?” Biggs’s voice sounded concerned, and he seemed to have a hard time saying his next words. “Will he even make it?”
“Shit, I have no idea,” Harper said.
The sound of someone kicking something startled me.
Harper continued, “He should be fine, assuming he regenerates fast enough. But I haven’t seen much of a change yet. I don’t know how fast it works or how thoroughly he’ll recover.”
As I processed their conversation, I wondered how we’d get Jake anywhere without hurting him. Because Jones and Taylor had sabotaged all the vehicles we’d found on base, our options were limited—all we had at our disposal was the van Jake had fixed…and Dave’s truck. The police cruiser’s too small to be useful.
“I wish I had better news,” Biggs mumbled. “Sanchez thinks we should leave tomorrow at first light.”
Not wanting to hear any more, I continued on toward the prepared rooms and didn’t stop until I reached a bed. Lying down, my body surrendered to sleep almost instantly.
After a couple hours of restless dreams and another few of prepping to leave, I helped Sarah load our meager belongings into the vehicles. The black van would transport Jake, bandaged and unconscious.
“I’m sort of worried about finding my folks,” Sarah admitted as we loaded Harper’s medical supplies into the back of the van.
Seeing movement out of the corner of my eye, I jumped. It’s just a bird. Not knowing Clara’s whereabouts was making me paranoid, but I felt safer when I noticed Cooper trotting over to us.
Sarah seemed oblivious to my skittishness and continued, “I mean, I’ve come to terms with the fact they’re probably dead, but I don’t want to find them.”
Sympathetic, I tried to reassure her. “We’ll check the house for you, Sarah. You won’t have to see anything. I wouldn’t want you to remember them that way.”
She smiled gratefully. “Did you ever figure out what happened to your dad?”
“Yeah, Dani found out he died, but I don’t know much more than that. I try not to think about it, to be honest.”
“What about your mom?”
I shrugged. “She died a long time ago. I never really think about her,” I lied.
“Oh,” was all Sarah said in response. We didn’t talk about our parents anymore after that, but I could still feel her apprehension about returning home.
“By the way, thanks for letting us stay at your house. It means a lot to me, especially now,” I said, thinking of Jake.
Lost in thought, Sarah frowned. “Zoe, do you ever think about Jordan?” Her shame tickled my consciousness.
I shook my head guiltily. But then I reined in my emotions—thinking of everyone who was gone was a slippery slope of misery I didn’t want to slide down. I tucked the last case of medicine into the van, and we walked back into the hospital.
“Really? I haven’t either…not that I don’t care,” she added hastily. “I just feel like so much is going on, and I haven’t had much time to stop and think about it.” She paused. “I feel bad.”
I nudged her as we trudged through the emergency room doors. “I think that’s normal.”
“Maybe it’s our mind’s way of protecting us,” Sarah said wistfully.
“Yeah, probably,” I agreed. “Let’s see if they need any help moving Jake.”
She nodded, and we headed toward the trauma room. When we arrived, Harper and Biggs were still packing up a few things, so we stood beside Jake’s bed and waited. My eyes wandered to the charred cover of the sketchbook lying on the bedside table. I still hadn’t opened it.
Sarah followed my line of sight. “There’s tons of drawing stuff at my house. You’re welcome to it,” she offered. “My dad used to draw a lot.”
I felt an unexpected sense of relief. “Thanks, Sarah. That’d be great.”
She watched the sketchbook like it might do a trick. “It’s…sort of amazing that he rescued that from the fire.”
“I just hope he makes it so I can ask him why,” I said, shaking my head.
“He will, Zoe. Biggs told me about his healing thing. What makes the burns any different from the bullet wound?” Or the knife wound…
I stared at Jake’s gauze-wrapped body. “I guess it’s just that…well…it’s hard to imagine someone surviving something like this. Don’t you think?”
“Of course,” she said, “but people are changing. I’m not sure we can count on anything we used to think was normal.”
I nodded.
“Besides, I think you know why.”
My brow furrowed, and I glanced at her. “Why what?”
“Why he saved your sketchbook.” Sarah gave me a knowing smirk. “He likes you,” she sang.
I couldn’t help but smile back at her. “Thank you, Sarah,” I said, hoping she knew how grateful I was for her friendship over the past month. Though her presence used to annoy me, I’d come to rely on it.
Nudging me, she said, “You’d do the same for me.”
40
DANI
Date: January 4, 11:25 PM
From: Danielle O’Connor
To: Zoe Cartwright
Subject: Spoke to soon…
Zo,
So, you know how I said I couldn’t believe the internet still worked so well? I’m such an idiot. I should’ve known saying that would curse it. It’s been spotty all day. Not awesome. I haven’t heard from you in a while—I’m hoping it’s just ‘cause your connection is spotty too. I’m starting to freak out a bit, so please send me a message soon.
Last night was the town meeting. I went with Jason, Ky, and Chris. They have a pretty good setup over there at the marina. I was worried we might run into Crazies, but we made it safely. Anyway, the meeting went well. Mr. Grayson and the other council members were eager for news from outside the area. It was so amazing, Zo—there were dozens of people! And some were people we know! Charlene was there, and the Freeman twins, and Dan Benson. Anyway, at the end of the meeting, they invited our group to join their little community. We turned the offer down, but it was nice to feel included. We told them all about the Colony and about your
little group. We did not, however, discuss Abilities (what the people here call “talents”) at all.
Here’s the crazy news…Mr. Grayson is coming with us to Colorado! He’s functioning as an emissary for the folks at the marina, so he left with us after the meeting.
Anyway, Chris has taken charge of figuring out how these crazy new powers work and is helping us all learn to control them. She has Ben, Ky, and me doing mental exercises at pretty much every available moment. BTW, I’ve noticed a link between using my telepathy and feeling crappy afterwards. If I push myself too hard, I get so cold that it becomes hard to breathe, and my vision darkens. Chris has a theory that everyone might experience some sort of negative symptoms if they overexert their Abilities, though nobody else in my group has noticed it. Have you? Maybe I’m just pushing myself too hard. It’s weird, but Chris thinks practice will strengthen my brain enough to do a lot more before experiencing the negative aftereffects.
That’s it on my end. Miss you, Zo! Please write to me soon…I need to know you’re alive.
Ciao,
Dani
Shutting the laptop, I set it on the couch beside me, stood, and stretched. Aside from the gentle glow of the fireplace set in the adjacent wall, my cozy, makeshift bedroom was dark. We kept the fires going pretty much all hours of the day—we had a huge stockpile of wood, so there really wasn’t a reason not to. Plus, it was cold, and the rain hadn’t stopped for two days.
Figuring everyone was asleep, I snuck down the dark hallway to the back room where we’d run extension cords from the generator in through a window. The house rule was: if you unplugged anything to use it in another room, plug it back into the generator when you’re finished. Period.
I set the laptop on an old cedar chest and plugged it in to charge. Duty fulfilled, I headed across the hallway to the kitchen in search of a midnight snack. Two steps into the room, I paused. Along with the faint orange glow from the great room’s fireplace, the murmur of hushed voices was sneaking under the closed door at the far side of the kitchen.
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