After the Ending

by Lindsey Fairleigh

“The more I think about it, the happier I get, especially around Riley. There’s a lot that needs to be worked out, but we have a while, right?” Her smile spread from ear to ear as she beckoned me to follow her downstairs. “I told Riley I wanted to wait for you before we started,” she said, but stopped and stood at the foot of the stairs. Turning to me, she began squealing and dancing in place, unable to control her excitement.

  “Was that the Running Man?” I laughed as she pulled me into a hug before scampering through the foyer.

  “It’s so strange—I mean, a lot of things are strange—but how much has changed in the last two hours is really weird,” she said as we paraded down a long hallway toward the kitchen. “I was so scared before. But Riley’s so happy that I can’t be upset or worried, no matter how hard I try. You should see him, Zoe. You think I’m crazy, but he hasn’t stopped celebrating since I told him. How can I be pessimistic about this whole thing when he’s so ecstatic?”

  As I continued following her, I couldn’t imagine having a baby at such a troubling time, but I smiled anyway. “You can’t.”

  She tugged me along, and we practically fell through the doorway into the lavish kitchen. To my surprise, about fifteen different bottles of liquor were lined up atop the green granite-topped island in the center of the room.

  “Holy…Where’d you get all the booze?” I asked.

  “My dad has an extensive liquor cabinet. It’s about as big as a wine cellar—normal people’s wine cellars, I mean. Anyway, I took out what I thought you could use. There’s more in there if this isn’t enough.”

  “I think this is plenty…but what do I need this for, exactly? I’m not planning on needing my stomach pumped at ten in the morning.”

  “I’ve volunteered you to be the bartender during today’s festivities. Duh!”

  I was instantly confused. “Newsflash, Sarah. Drinking is generally frowned upon in your current condition.”

  She swatted my arm. “Yeah, well, I’m not drinking, at least not alcohol, but that doesn’t mean no one else can. Besides, I know you can make me a fancy, nonalcoholic drink that will make me feel special, and I can pretend I’m partaking with you. Consider this a baby shower…Jake recovery celebration…thing. And we can’t celebrate without drinks; it’s absurd.” She dismissed the thought with a wave and gestured to the array of bottles before me like the Vanna White of distillates.

  I laughed, looking at the impressive collection. Deciding I could definitely use a drink—or three—I canvassed the assorted bottles, determining what type of potion I should concoct first.

  Tequila…hangover city.

  Rum…tempting.

  Vodka…I could definitely get creative.

  Knowing Sarah liked berries, I settled on vodka crans to start, using carbonated water to liven up her drink a bit, and contemplated what our next libation might be.

  Although I was still irked by my recent discovery, I was determined to play nice with everyone for Sarah’s sake. I wanted to enjoy a few drinks with my friends, even if my oblivion would only last for the day.

  Jake and Cooper showed up moments after I made the first round of drinks, and gratefully, Biggs and Harper enlisted Jake’s help with something outside, so there was no awkwardness or opportunity to talk.

  After a toast to the proud parents-to-be, we started prepping for an early, very large lunch—baked beans, venison freshly killed by Jake and Cooper, pasta salad with a balsamic vinaigrette, canned corn, and skillet cornbread. As we laughed and dirtied the kitchen, my mind periodically wandered to Jake, and I found myself pouring stronger drinks with each new round.

  Eventually, we all made our way out onto the back porch. Harper and Jake manned the grill, babysitting their drinks while I downed mine, hoping my variations of lemon drops and cosmos would keep my spirits up. Although the cocktails were a little girlie for my taste, I drank them happily, knowing Sarah was giddy over their virgin counterparts.

  We continued celebrating into the late afternoon. Sarah basked in the attention she received from Biggs, but no matter how much she played the happy mother-to-be around him, I knew she was still wary when he wasn’t there.

  Biggs, on the other hand, was too happy to be even a little bit pessimistic. I continued refilling his glass as his toasts became more and more frequent. Being the observant, well-practiced bartender I was, I noticed Jake had stopped drinking after a few shots of whiskey, and Harper was still nursing his second rum and Coke. Sanchez and the guys chatted, lounging in the wicker chairs that were scattered along the wraparound porch. They paused periodically, watching Sarah and me with amusement—I was intoxicated, but Sarah was just plain silly.

  “Can we have pink ones next?” she begged, and I conceded, giving in to her every whim. In turn, I became less coherent. I knew I’d need to slow down if I was going to make it to sunset.

  Putting a CD titled “Songs that Rock” into the stereo, I pressed play. I wasn’t shocked when I heard the high-pitched voices of a pubescent boy band emanating from the speakers.

  “Oh my God, Sarah, this is hilarious,” I barked, laughing. “I can’t believe this is one of your ‘songs that rock’.”

  “I love this song!” she exclaimed, the white-washed boards of the porch creaking under her feet as she danced around. I was gasping to catch my breath in between bouts of laughter, trying not to pee my pants as the songs continued—each more ridiculous than the last, just like Sarah’s dance moves.

  Eventually Biggs zeroed in on me, tugging on my arms and trying to pull me up from my perch on a chaise. “Come on, Zoe. You haven’t danced all day!”

  Resisting, I said, “Thanks, Biggs, but I’m not drunk enough to start dancing. Especially not to this. Sorry, buddy.”

  “Nope, no more excuses. Sarah told me you ladies used to go out dancing, so come on!” He continued pulling on me, and as my drink sloshed in my glass, I relented, if only to avoid a spill.

  “Uncle, uncle!” I conceded, but Biggs kept at it. “Okay! One second!” Downing what remained of my drink, I set the glass aside and followed him over to where a completely sober Sarah flailed and sang.

  With each unsteady step, I realized how drunk I actually was—I swore that I was done drinking for the night. The sun was low, and the sky would be full of vibrant colors soon…I hoped I would make it that long. As we started dancing, I stumbled, barely catching myself before falling. Biggs threw me around, attempting his own rendition of swing—he was three sheets to the wind, so our movements may not have qualified as dancing, exactly.

  When I flashed a “please rescue me” glance at Harper, he smiled, getting out of his chair and sauntering over to us. “Mind if I step in?”

  Biggs shook his head and returned his attention to Sarah.

  As Harper gathered me into his arms, a classic rock song blared from the speakers, and his eyes lit up. “This was my sister’s favorite song,” he said.

  “You have a sister?” I’d sort of expected it. As much as he flirted, he was also protective and brotherly.

  Twirling me, he said, “I have three, actually…or I had three. All younger.” There was sadness in his voice I understood too well.

  “You’ve never mentioned them,” I thought aloud.

  “I know…it’s hard to talk about life before.”

  I nodded and rested my cheek on his shoulder.

  “You surprise me, Baby Girl,” Harper whispered.

  Lifting my head, I cocked it to the side and studied his face. “What d’you mean?”

  He chuckled. “I thought you used to be a bartender, but you aren’t holding your liquor as well as I’d expect.”

  Feeling defensive, I tensed. “We’ve been drinking for, like, five hours or something. I’m not a linebacker, you know.”

  “Calm down. I’m just saying…” He watched me curiously, and I scowled in return. “And it’s been more like seven hours,” he added.

  “Oy,” I muttered. “I rest my case.”

  Smirking, Harper said,
“You’re funny,” before holding me tighter. Again, I leaned my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes, feeling like I might float away as we swayed to the rhythm of the music.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he said guiltily.

  I instantly knew what he was talking about, and in my intoxication, his sincere apology was all I needed to forgive him.

  He pulled away so he could see my face. “I would’ve wanted to know too. I didn’t think about it like that. I know you would’ve told me, and I should’ve done the same for you.”

  I nodded, trying not to get emotional in my drunken haze. “It’s okay,” I slurred, repositioning myself in the comfort of his arms.

  After a couple more songs played, I decided it was best to extricate myself from Harper’s hold—before I got too comfortable and passed out standing up. Opening my eyes, I saw Jake watching me. I smiled shyly at him before turning my head to face the opposite way.

  I was glad no one else in our group could feel people’s emotions and see their memories like I could. I couldn’t imagine someone glimpsing into the unruly depths of my consciousness.

  After giving Harper a peck on the cheek, I took a step back. The world spun a little as I turned and walked down the porch steps. The music was giving me a headache, and the serenity of the lake seemed like the perfect solution.

  “Where are you going?” Harper called.

  “Just taking a breather!” I yelled back as I wandered down the path and disappeared into the trees.

  46

  ZOE

  Dizzily, I trudged to the lake. The crickets were silent as I walked, only resuming their chirping song when I settled myself on the end of the dock. I pulled my legs up against my chest and looked out at the ripples in the water, wondering what lived beneath the lake’s surface. If Dani was here, she’d be daring me to jump into the frigid water. Not a chance, I thought drunkenly.

  I was glad I’d lasted long enough to see the sunset—burnt orange and pink filled the sky as the sun sank behind the hills, its rays casting a glowing haze over the forest. It was strange to think that the same sun had shone in the skies over Fort Knox. So much had happened at the base, it seemed like a lifetime had been folded into mere weeks.

  A gust of wind shook me from thoughts of darker times, and I hugged my legs closer. I was in no state of mind to go back to the others, so I rested my head on my knees and closed my eyes, hoping the forest would stop spinning around me.

  Unfortunately, my solitude was disrupted by the sound of two-by-fours creaking under slow, heavy footsteps.

  “You doing okay?” Jake’s voice rumbled.

  My eyes flew open, but I didn’t move. “Fine. Just thought I’d get some air,” I said, hoping the extent of my drunkenness wasn’t completely obvious.

  “Are you sure you’re fine? I watched you wobble out here.”

  I looked back at Jake, who’d stopped a few steps behind me, and gave him an evil stare before refocusing on the gently rippling surface of the water. I reminded myself not to be distracted by his alluring ruggedness—I was still hurt he’d withheld such alarming information from me.

  It was silent for a moment before he spoke. “So you heard.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “You should’ve told me.” Although I didn’t want to have such an important conversation in my jumbled state, I was curious about the truth.

  Jake took a step closer and crouched down beside me. “Do you think that would’ve made a difference?”

  “Um…yeah!” I blurted. “I can look for trouble better if I know it’s coming. How does no one see that?” I leaned back, uncoiling from my warm ball of body heat.

  Jake remained silent for a moment, then sullenly said, “I didn’t know if it was true. I thought it was…crazy…until I actually saw you. Then…” He stalled. “I still couldn’t really believe it. I didn’t want to tell you beforehand because you’d worry all the time, and I was still trying to figure out what I should do when…”

  His ambivalence toward me from the moment we met—the first time he saved my life—suddenly made sense. “That’s why you stayed after you killed Jones and Taylor?” I asked, looking over at him curiously. I was secretly surprised I’d connected the dots after so many drinks. “You told me you were leaving, but you stayed.”

  There was something thoughtful about his demeanor as he stood and looked out at the lake. Is he searching for the answers he thinks I want to hear?

  “Just be honest with me,” I pleaded softly.

  “I didn’t know what the hell to do,” he said roughly. I could feel his uncertainty and frustration. “I didn’t know how you’d die or how I’d cause it. I thought the whole thing was ridiculous. But if there was any truth to it, I didn’t know whether I should stay…or just leave.” He looked down at me attentively. The light reflecting off the water’s surface brightened his usually shadowed features. “Then you said you were going to Colorado on your own, and I knew that was a bad idea. I told Sanchez everything. I hoped she could change your mind, but she didn’t know what to do either.”

  I still didn’t understand. “What do you mean you’d ‘cause’ my death? Who told you that, anyway?”

  Shoving his hands into his coat pockets, Jake looked back out at the water. “‘She’ll die because of you’,” he said forcefully. “‘The woman with the long black hair and teal eyes…you’ll save her, but she’ll die because of you.’ That was the last thing my sister said before she died.”

  Hearing his words, I felt sick to my stomach. I closed my eyes, trying to forget the feeling of impending death—both during Taylor’s attack and during the poisoning.

  Sitting up, I sighed heavily and massaged my temples. “I still can’t believe I didn’t see any of this.”

  “I told you you’re not very good at reading people.” He looked down at me, smiling playfully.

  I was surprised by his attempt at humor, and I couldn’t help but grin. “So, do you always joke at my expense or am I just lucky to be around when you’re in such a good mood?”

  “You’re just lucky, I guess.” His sexy smile made my insides flutter.

  “Your sister was like Harper,” I said, abruptly changing the subject. In my intoxicated stupor, it had taken me a moment to process Jake’s earlier words.

  He nodded. “I didn’t know what was wrong with Becca then, but they said they’d seen cases like hers and could help us.” I knew he meant the military people I’d been introduced to through his memories. “She must’ve seen what they were gonna do to her.”

  I became lost in thought, wondering what future horrors Becca had viewed that would make killing herself seem like the best option.

  Jake’s eyes turned imploring. “I’m not going to let you go there alone. I know we aren’t sure the same people are involved with the Colony, but why take the chance? Think of what they might do to you if they find out about your Ability.”

  Instantly, I was furious. He had no right to tell me what to do. “You’re not gonna let me? I’m going…and I’m going alone. Nothing’s changed,” I told him, but the moment I said the words, I knew they weren’t true, and Jake’s expression confirmed it.

  “Right.” He shook his head and stalked passed me, back toward the shore.

  I struggled to stand. “Just because you saved my life doesn’t mean you get to tell me what to do!” I called after him, surprised by the desperation in my voice. The sound of Jake’s footsteps on the dock reinforced the distance growing between us—our relationship seemed to be unraveling before it even started.

  “Fine,” he said, and my heart seemed to constrict at the coldness of that single word.

  Shit. My head was a jumbled mess of wishes, desires, and frustrations…and drunkenness. Stumbling after him, I yelled, “What exactly do you want from me, Jake? You want honesty? You want me to tell you that I want you? That I need you? Well it’s true, and it drives me insane.” My breathing was ragged.

  “You want me to go back to pushing you away?
Done,” he said flatly and continued walking.

  “Really? Just like that? You act like it would be so easy—”

  He stopped and turned, glaring at me like I’d slapped him in the face. “It won’t be easy,” he said heatedly. “But you’re either so busy worrying that nothing will work out, or too scared that it will, that you’re not even willing to try. If not having me in your life is easier for you, then fine.” He started to walk away again.

  “You’re such an asshole!” I knew he was right, but I didn’t like him calling me out so easily. I ran after him, but after only a few steps, my feet were moving faster than I could manage and I tripped. Instinctively, I thrust out my hands to break my fall as my knees hit the dock. “Shit,” I hissed as the rough boards scraped my palms.

  Even in my drunkenness, embarrassment burned inside me. I sat back on my heels and stared down at my stinging palms, wishing everything with Jake had been easier from the beginning. Instead, since we’d met, we’d been pushing each other away—because of prophecies, stubbornness, and fear.

  “Zoe.” I hadn’t realized Jake had stopped walking away until I heard the boards creak under his feet again. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice a mixture of anger and concern.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said pathetically, refusing to look up him. “Just leave me here…maybe the animals’ll drag me away.”

  He laughed despite his anger. “That’s not overly dramatic or anything.” Crouching down in front of me, he gripped my arms tightly. “I’ll help you up.”

  “Let me, please. I’d at least like to keep some of my dignity intact.”

  Jake let go and took a step back to let me rise on my own.

  Straightening, I looked into his eyes. They radiated an urgency I’d never seen in them before. I tilted my head, trying to decipher the meaning behind his intense expression, and began to feel extremely self-conscious.

  “Please don’t look at me like that,” I pleaded quietly. I balled my hands into fists at my sides but couldn’t stop them from trembling. Yearning and despondency floated in the air between us, and I was unable to distinguish his emotions from my own. Mentally exhausted, I closed my eyes and sighed.