After the Ending (12 page)

In a heartbeat, Jason’s arms were around me, his body
curled behind mine. I could feel his breath rustling my mussed curls as he
promised, “She won’t touch you again. I won’t let her.”

Finally, warmth!
I thought ecstatically as he held
me tightly against him. Once again, I felt like I was in the protective embrace
of a warrior—vengeful and fearsome. Slowly, my sobs died down, and I fell
asleep.

When I woke, the pale light of the December morning poured
through lacy curtains, illuminating a white-washed dresser and rickety oak
table on the opposite side of the room. I was nestled against Jason’s relaxed
body—my head rested on his chest and my arm draped haphazardly across his
middle. His heart beat loudly beneath my ear, far too rapidly for someone still
sleeping. One of his arms was hooked around my back, allowing his hand to grasp
my waist. The other moved gently as he twirled one of my stray crimson curls.
At some point during the chilly night he had covered us both with an antique
patchwork quilt.

Oh. My. God. I’m cuddling with Jason! Umm…uh…
My thoughts
faded to incoherency as I pretended I was one of the women Jason truly desired,
not just one he comforted out of pity.

I hesitantly looked up at him, and as soon as our eyes
met, the tranquil expression slid off his face.
He didn’t know I was awake,
I
noted, disappointed.
He was probably imagining I was someone else, too.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked softly. The handsome
face gazing at me could have been carved from marble for all of the emotion it
showed.

I nodded.

Seconds later, Jason extracted himself from our tangled
position, and I was suddenly cold and alone on the bed. “Well, um,” he said
gruffly, “we should get ready.” He disappeared out the bedroom door, letting
Chris slide in.

“I see you’re up,” she said, and the day began.

Date: December 19, 8:00 AM

From: Danielle O’Connor

To: Zoe Cartwright

Subject: Drama, drama, and more drama!

Hi Zo,

So, wow…you’ve got some visitors. Do you think you’ll all
stay together? I’m glad you have some more people to interact with. I know you
were getting pretty frustrated with Dave. And they’re military people so they
can do a really good job of keeping you safe. That makes me super happy! And
most importantly...a
hottie
! He offered sex?
Ummm
...hello...
uhhh
...what else
do you have to pass the time?

Okay, I’ve got a lot to tell you, but I don’t have much
time. I apologize in advance for the potential incoherency of this email.

First, Cece sort of attacked me last night while I was
sleeping. Chris had left the bedroom we’re sharing to do some planning with
Jason. I was having another crazy dream. And then I was awake, and Jack was
growling and slobbering like a rabid wolf because Cece was in the room…with a
knife! Crazy, right? Anyway, I ended up scratching the crap out of her face,
and Jack bit her arm, and eventually she left. Apparently Jack can smell evil
because he seems to hate Cece just as much as I do. Now that psycho seems to
think that, along with killing her sister, I’m out to take Jason away from her.
Too bad for her, he’s already gone. Not that he’s with me…he’s just not with
her. Ha!

Back to the drama. So I went over to Jason’s room to tell
him and Chris what had happened, and then Cece burst in with John and Hunter.
John is apparently her boy toy now, and he jumps at her every whim. Since he
woke this morning, he’s been trying to convince members of our group to blame
me for pretty much every death not caused by the virus. He and Cece have
managed to sway a few other guys to their way of thinking. She’s eerily good at
manipulating people...well, guys mostly. Maybe she trades them sexual favors or
something?

Jason is super pissed at her. He told her to stay away from
me and that if she touches me again, she’s gone. She’s totally insane and will
probably try something anyway. Luckily, Chris and Jason aren’t really giving
her a chance to get near me—they haven’t left me by myself since the incident
last night.

K, I know you tend to get
weirded
out when I gush about your brother…which is understandable, but you’re the only
best friend I’ve got (lucky you!), so suck it up and listen. Yeah, umm…Jason
even slept with me. I mean, like
sleep
slept. I was crying, he comforted
me, and then we just fell asleep. Really, NOTHING happened. Just cuddling, I
promise. Though my stomach does get kind of fluttery when I think about it. But
that’s bad, right? I mean, so soon after Cam? Besides, wanting Jason means
almost certain misery—he’s like a Venus Flytrap for women. You can stop gagging
now…

Also man-related, there’s a mysterious guy who keeps showing
up in my horrible Cam dreams...and he sort of kissed me before I woke up last
night. I didn’t mean for it to happen. Umm…he’s pretty hot, too. Oh my God, why
am I even talking about this—he’s not real!

My thoughts are too chaotic…I need you to tell me what the
hell is going on in my head. How could I possibly dream of kissing some strange
man when Cam has barely been gone for 10 days? How could I even consider being
excited about cuddling with another guy? What the hell is wrong with me? I
loved
Cam! I know I did—I still do!
Agghhhh
! I miss you and
need your amazing insight. Like, a lot.

Ciao,

Dani

Zoe

Date: December 19, 11:00 AM

From: Zoe Cartwright

To: Danielle O’Connor

Subject: I’m telling Dave tonight and Cece is a BITCH

Hey D,

First of all, thank God you’re okay. I can’t believe all the
shit going on over there. I thought I wouldn’t have to worry about you since
you’re with Jason, but I’m starting to wonder... At least he took good care of
you after you were almost stabbed by Miss Psycho. I’m so sorry you had to go
through all that. I really want to beat the shit out of Cece, and I’m VERY
PROUD of you for scratching the crap out of her face. Now she might think twice
before messing with you. Just thinking about her makes me want to punch
something. Got a picture and some darts? It could be therapeutic...I’m just
saying.

Oh, and under NO circumstances should you be held
responsible for anyone’s death, D. No matter what Cece or any of her tools say.
I’m so frustrated that you’re even in this situation. Nothing that’s happened
in this goddamn apocalypse is your fault! Trust me.

As for helping you interpret your chaotic feelings, I’m not
sure what I can do. I know you loved Cam, so I can’t even imagine how difficult
it is for you to be away from him. I’m sure the fact that he never liked Jason
makes all of this even harder. But, I also know you’ve always had feelings for
Jason. It doesn’t surprise me that you’re battling feelings for him now. You’re
only human, D. I say just go with the flow. Just be careful. I know that
probably isn’t very helpful. And kissing this MG (mystery guy)? Well, you gotta
get action somewhere (kidding). I wouldn’t worry too much about it. If he’s
hot, all the better. It is just a dream.

Unlike the soap opera you’re starring in, there’s nothing
too crazy going on over here. Sarah and Biggs are still batting eyes at each
other, and Sanchez and Harper are hard at work mapping out a route to Fort
Knox. Apparently, we’re headed to Kentucky, and yes, I said “we.” We’ve decided
to stick together, and I’m really happy about it. Anyway, Sanchez thinks there
are more military personnel there and that it would be a good idea to team up
with them.

On the Dave front…he’s still ignoring me. The bitchy side of
me wants to say “screw you, get over yourself,” but I need to patch things up
with him. If I don’t, I know I’ll regret it later. It’s not like I have a
plethora of friends and can afford to burn bridges. I’ve decided I’m going to
talk to him today. I just have to wait for the right time, whenever that might
be. I’m not really looking forward to it…at all. I’ll keep you posted. Wish me
luck! This could turn out really good or REALLY bad.

Remember to keep Jack with you at all times, and stay away
from Cece. SHE’S THE DEVIL!

Hasta,

Zoe

After taking my third shot in an hour, I could feel liquid
courage seeping its way into my body. As Harper dealt a fifth hand of poker to Sarah
and me, I tried not to think about how Dave would react when I told him the
truth about what was wrong with me. I wasn’t sure if I wanted the others to
know about my strange ability, and I wondered if he would tell them.

What if they banish me from the group?
I was
probably over-thinking everything, but I couldn’t help it. Booze tended to jump
start my dramatic tendencies.

I’d planned on confronting Dave right after I woke, but
the potential repercussions had frightened me into silence. Not sure what to
do, I’d turned to one of the bottles of Tequila we’d hidden from Dave. I’d
needed to settle my nerves, knowing the talk would happen sooner rather than
later.

Part of me pondered the probability that he would be
disgusted or think I was a liar. But another part of me—the enlightened, drunk
Zoe—was sure he’d gather me into his arms and tell me we’d figure out what was
happening together. I wanted him to tell me everything would be okay.

Tossing the playing cards onto the coffee table in
victory, I pulled my right leg into my chest and rested my chin on my knee. My
insides were warm and coated with temporary liberation. 

“You win again, my raven-haired friend.” Harper winked at
me and excused himself to grab another drink.

As I worked up the nerve to talk to Dave, I recalled the
many times he’d come to my rescue. Not just in my weakest moments, but by being
my friend and confidant in Dani’s absence. Dave had picked me up and taken care
of me after my wisdom teeth had been removed. He’d given me tickets to the
Smithsonian after my first exhibit opening, and he’d taken me to the National
Arboretum to see the redwoods; I’d always missed them, being away from home.

Although cocky and self-centered, Dave was a good guy,
and remembering his kindness gave me the fortitude to tell him everything.
Right
now
, I rallied.

He’d limped his way outside moments before, and if I
didn’t act fast, I’d miss my opportunity to be alone with him. Standing from my
warm perch by the fire, I stumbled slightly before catching myself on the arm
of the sofa. Harper’s arm found its way around my shoulders, holding me
upright. Wide-eyed, I looked up at him, wondering what his strong hands might
feel like on the small of my back.

I shook my head.
Where’d
he come from?

“You okay, Baby Girl?” His eyes darkened as we both
considered our proximity.
Baby Girl, again?
I tried to be annoyed, but I
was lost in his asking eyes.

I’m drunk
. I smiled and straightened myself.
“Yeah, I just stood up too fast. Thanks.”

Inching backward to remove myself from his enticing hold,
I continued toward the front door. I could still feel the heat of Harper’s gaze
as I walked away, but he said nothing.

“Where’re you going?” Sanchez inquired as she stepped out
from the hallway. Her hair was down, and she wore a tank top and sweatpants. I
was surprised by how normal she looked without the formality of her uniform.

I nodded toward the front door. “Dave’s outside. I
thought I’d check on him.”

“Dave isn’t using his cane…maybe you should,” she said
dryly and walked away.
Was that a joke?
I couldn’t believe it.

Readying myself for the blistering cold, I approached the
front door. I stuffed my too-long hair into the neck of my pullover, pulled up
my hood, and added a black scarf for good measure. Grabbing ear muffs and a
blanket, I opened the door.

The cold air was icy against my face, but the alcohol
that flowed through my body still warmed my insides. The night was dark and
quiet. If it were a clear night back home, Dani would’ve come over to watch for
shooting stars and make wishes about boys. But that seemed like a lifetime ago.

Trying to stay on course, I scanned the shadows for Dave.
He was right where I’d expected him to be, sitting in an old rocking chair at
the far side of the porch and brooding. As I moved to sit in the chair beside
him, his eyes remained fixed on the blackness that swallowed the landscape
around us.

I shuddered as the cold snuck into my warm cocoon of
clothing. “It’s freezing. What’re you doing out here?”

“Getting some air,” was all he said.

We sat in silence for a moment. I craned my neck to look
out beyond the porch awning at the twinkling stars. Unlike me, Dave sat
motionless.

“I’m sorry about the other night, Dave. I didn’t mean
to—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said sharply.

“Well you have to,” I snapped back. “You’re barely
speaking to me. I think you’ve said three words to me all day, and only because
you had to.”

I watched him, expecting a denial or an explanation, but
no words came.

“Look, you’re upset with me, and I understand why. I just
need you to know what’s going on with me.” Everything after that came out in a
rush. I knew it was going to sound insane to him regardless of my delivery, so
I let the words flow before I chickened out.

“Something’s happening to me. I know you’re going to
think I’m crazy—that’s why I haven’t told you until now. But you need to know
why I pushed you away.” I paused for a response, but he pretended to ignore me,
so I continued, “I’ve been feeling weird lately. I get these strange feelings
when I’m around people. It’s like a rush of sensations and images, but they’re
not mine. It’s so unbelievable I don’t even know how to explain it. I don’t
want it to happen, but I can’t help it. I can’t control it at all.” Uneasiness
gnawed at me, but I tried to calm myself.

Hearing my own words, I wasn’t surprised to see I’d
gained his full attention. He was staring at me, his hazel eyes like black
holes in the darkness.

Finally
, I thought. “When I touch you, I
see
things. They’re memories, I guess, in your mind. And I can
feel
what
you’re feeling. When we were in the bedroom the other night, I saw myself in
your mind, and…it was just too much.”

In the shadows, Dave looked like a statue, expressionless
and completely devoid of life. Gone were the cocky grin and charming glint in
his eyes.

“Are you going to say something?” I snapped.
You make
me want to scream!

Just as I was about to, he said, “Are you telling me you
can read minds? That you’ve read
my
mind?” His voice was thick with
disbelief, and he laughed at me. “All this time I was dating a psychic,” he
joked.

“Don’t be an ass, Dave. It’s more of a feeling, and it
just started happening. I can’t predict the future or anything.”

The relief of finally telling someone made me want to cry
tears of joy, but the fact that it was Dave and that he was being a dick made
me regret my decision. I was fearful of what might happen next. In the palpable
silence, I could hear my heartbeat quicken with dread.

Oh my God. Dani was
wrong. I shouldn’t have told him. This isn’t what I expected. I don’t know what
I expected. I should’ve told Sarah. He’s going to tell everyone. They’ll leave
me here!

“Dave?” I leaned toward him cautiously, realizing
drinking in preparation hadn’t been the best idea. The alcohol made me feel out
of control and paranoid.
Stop it, Zoe. You’ll be fine. Just lie and say
you’re drunk and don’t know what came over you.
Somewhat satisfied with the
idea, I took a deep breath and said, “Never mind. I’m drunk. Don’t mind me. You
were right; I really just don’t have any feelings—”

Before I could finish, the front door creaked open, and
Biggs stepped out. “Hey, where’s the police station? We want to check it for
working vehicles and gas.” I caught his attention as I brushed a loose strand
of hair from my face, and Biggs straightened. “Sorry, Zoe…I didn’t realize you
were…out here.”

“I’ll show you on the map,” Dave offered and stood.

“Dave—” I reached for his arm, but he shrugged me off as
he hobbled into the house.

For the first time, I wished I
could
see his
thoughts. And kick his ass.
What happens next?

Date: December 19, 10:45 PM

From: Zoe Cartwright

To: Danielle O’Connor

Subject: I told Dave

Hey D,

So my plan to tell Dave backfired. About 30 minutes ago, I
told him why I was acting strange and that I didn’t know what was wrong with me
or what to do. He didn’t say much and then just walked away. Plus, I saw Dave
drinking again, which is disconcerting. What if he tells everyone? Worst-case
scenario: he thinks I’m losing my mind and tells Sanchez. If they think I’m one
of the Crazies, they might leave me behind, maybe even kill me (okay, that
might be a little dramatic, but you get the point). Maybe I AM
nutso
, and they SHOULD leave me behind. I don’t feel sick,
but I also have no plausible explanation for what’s happening to me. Is it
because I was sick for a while? But if that’s the case, if it’s because of the
virus, it wouldn’t just be me, would it? Other people would be experiencing the
same thing too.

So far, it doesn’t seem like Dave’s told anyone. I hope he
doesn’t, but honestly, he’s a wild card at this point. He won’t even look at
me. Harper, on the other hand, knows something’s wrong. He keeps watching me
and asking me if I’m okay. I want to tell him everything. I feel like I can
trust him, but I felt that way about Dave too. Now look at the situation I’m
in.

BTW, we should be in Fort Knox by nightfall tomorrow. I’ll write
to you when I can. Wish me luck. I think I’m going to need it. Take care, my
friend.

Hasta la vista,

Zoe