After the Ending (14 page)

When he turned his reticent gaze on me, my heart melted.
He’s
afraid. Of what?

“I felt it when Cece went into your room last night. It
was like I was watching a horror movie, and the suspenseful music was playing
and getting louder and louder. I knew something bad was about to happen. And it
also happened this morning in town right before I opened the door to a house.
Some psycho bitch was waiting for us inside…with a baseball bat. She nearly
smashed in Dalton’s head before I shot her. It’s like I can tell when bad stuff
is going to happen—
before
it happens.” He looked away. “I know it sounds
insane.”

Yeah
, I thought, but my heart wasn’t in it. This
wasn’t the first crazy-sounding power I’d heard about. I stared ahead and
watched the end of the battle between Chris and Jason. She beckoned for him to
start again, but he shook his head and headed our way.

“Crazy or not, I have to warn you,” Ky whispered.

Surprised, I turned to face him. “Warn me? About what?”

He leaned in. “Cece. The feeling’s building up around her
like it’s gonna explode. And she hates you…sorry. So I’m thinking the explosion
isn’t gonna mean anything good for you. Be careful, okay?”

This isn’t real, right? He can’t know that, can he?
But…what if he
is
like Zoe? And what about Chris?
My thoughts were
frantic. I grasped my left wrist as dread seeped into my body, turning my bones
to ice.

Ky straightened and laughed. “Hey man, I saw you get your
ass kicked by a girl. Was she too much for you? Is that why you ran away?”

Jason glanced between Ky and me before he responded. “She
needed it.” His tone was razor sharp.

Ky stood abruptly and backed toward the house. “Right,
well…I just remembered…I’ve got this thing…” He turned and jogged away.

Jason quickly took Ky’s spot on the bench. “What was that
all about?”

“Nothing,” I responded instinctively.
What the hell is up with this bench today?

“It didn’t look like nothing.”

I rolled my eyes and heaved a sigh. “He was just telling
me something…about
himself
, Jason. It’s got nothing to do with you.”

“Fine, whatever. Show me what you learned today.
Johnson!” he called to Chris who was doing sit-ups on the lawn. “Get your ass
over here.”

I groaned, “You can’t be serious. I’m too tired!”

He stared at me with all the sympathy of a stone.

“Ready to go again?” Chris asked him when she reached us.

“No,” Jason said, not looking away from me. “Spar with
this little girl. I want to see if anything’s sinking in.”

As I stood and walked away from the bench to face off against
Chris, I made sure to add a little extra sway to my hips.
Little girl, my
ass.

Date: December 21, 11:55 PM

From: Danielle O’Connor

To: Zoe Cartwright

Subject: You’re not alone

Zo,

I’m sorry that it’s been a few days since I wrote. Jason and
Chris are working me extra hard. It’s just ‘cause they’re worried and want me
to be able to protect myself…but now I’m always pooped!

They were both with me yesterday as we searched Gold Hill. I
appreciate their support and protection, but it kind of reminds me that half
the group hates me right now and that I’m a weakling of a partner. I’m trying
my best to believe what you said, but it’s hard not to feel responsible for so
many deaths, especially when I’m surrounded by people who think the exact
opposite.

Today, I was with just Jason. We scouted for gas but found
little, only in cars locked in garages. What use will cars be when the fuel’s
completely gone? At least the garage shopping led us to some other useful
supplies. We found a stockpile of MREs—those totally disgusting military meals
that stay good for like a million years—and some guns. They were locked up, but
that didn’t stop Jason. We stocked up on enough weapons for everyone in our
group several times over and enough ammo for all of us to get in plenty of
target practice. I’m working really hard on learning how to use my little
handgun. It’s funny…I always hated guns or was at least afraid of them, but now
I sleep with one.

To update you on the Cece situation...we’re avoiding each
other like the plague (ha). I honestly think Jason would kick her to the curb
except he’s worried about losing the bodies that would go with her (and
supplies too). Seriously, a bunch of the guys worship that bitch now…they’re
like her own personal harem of dutiful slaves. It’s creepy.

Anyway, tomorrow we head out again to continue our insanely
slow journey to Bodega Bay. I’m pretty sure we only have one more stop (four
more nights, counting tonight, because it’s another two-
dayer
)
until we get there. Will we be too late? I’m trying not to let myself dwell on
that thought. I haven’t been very successful.

BTW, Dave is a weak asshole. Forget him. I’m really sorry
that I encouraged you to tell him about your superpower. I feel kind of responsible.
Sad face. Hug.

I know you’re totally freaking out about what’s happening to
you, so I thought this might make you feel better. I think it
is
happening to other people too...like, it’s a mutation caused by the virus or
something. See, Chris, she’s sort of able to make people feel better. And I
don’t just mean giving a hug and talking it out. She sits down with someone
who’s about to have a meltdown, and five minutes later they’re fine. She’s done
it to me a bunch of times. I think it’s the reason I’m handling Cam’s death so
well. Because, really, I’m handling it
too
well. Like, unnaturally well.
Plus, this guy in my group is pretty sure he can feel when bad things are about
to happen…in fact, he feels it all the time around Cece. The point is—you are
not alone (cue the Michael Jackson song).

So you’re going to Fort Knox? That’s sort of hilarious. You
should take a bar of gold just for fun. Ha! But, wherever you are, stay safe,
okay? I miss you.

Ciao,

Dani

Zoe

It took us seven excruciating hours to drive to Fort Knox.
Luckily Biggs and Harper had found a fuel-filled police cruiser, making our
journey less cramped. Unfortunately, any potential silence was interrupted by
the sound of the police scanner clicking in and out of range. If it hadn’t been
for Harper’s friendly smile and his seductive, throaty laugh, Dave’s sulking
probably would’ve driven me mad.

“Hopefully we’ll hear another broadcast today,” Harper
said as we neared our destination. He looked back at Dave and then up at me,
sensing the tension between us. I’d been trying, unsuccessfully, to ignore my
memory of the horrible conversation I’d had with Dave two nights earlier. I’d
originally offered to ride with Sanchez and the others in Dave’s truck, but
being around her was equally unnerving, so I’d opted to ride in the same car as
my fallen-out friend.

Dave had made himself right at home in the uncomfortable
backseat, stretching out his legs and folding his arms behind his head. He was
pretending to be unfazed by my presence, and I didn’t mind—I really didn’t want
to have a confrontation in front of Harper. I did, however, allow myself a
smile every time Dave repositioned himself on the vinyl seat. There was
something satisfying in seeing him behind the metal cage separating us.

Finding fuel had been difficult, but Biggs and Harper’s
resourcefulness had resulted in just enough gas to transport us to Kentucky.
But
what about to Colorado?

“What makes that base in Colorado so special anyway?” I
asked and cleared my throat—my voice was hoarse from disuse. “I mean, I’m
surprised the Colony isn’t in D.C. or in Virginia by the Pentagon…someplace
that makes a little more sense
.”
I looked at Harper. “Any idea?”

He shrugged. “We heard the same broadcast as you.”

I tried not to grow hopeful. “Maybe they’ve created an
anti-Virus.”
Maybe they can fix whatever’s wrong with me.

“Yeah, maybe.” Harper squinted skeptically, but the rest
of his expression remained unchanged.

I looked out the window, watching the abandoned town
outside of Fort Knox pass by as we wound our way through the deserted streets.
I imagined its lonely storefronts crowded with people—eating at the quaint
cafes, waiting at the bus stops, and walking in and out of the little shops.
Instead, the sidewalks were desolate and littered with garbage. I tried not to
think about the rotting corpses and the Crazies that surely haunted the dark
corners of the town, instead taking inventory of what supplies the town might
have to offer.

I pointed to a large, boxy building behind a taco joint.
“There’s a hospital over there.”

“Good eye,” Harper approved. “We’ll have to check it out
later when we have the whole team…I’m sure there are a few Crazies waiting for
us in there.”

Dave barked a laugh but said nothing as he pulled a
bottle of Tequila out of his pack and brought it to his lips.

I twisted in my seat. “Where’d you get that?” I asked
angrily, knowing nothing good would come of him drinking again.

“Don’t worry about it.” Dave’s voice was snippy, and he
still hadn’t blinked an eye in my direction.

Trying to control my temper, I rolled my eyes and faced
forward again.

Harper glanced over at me sympathetically, but I
pretended not to notice. “What’s going on with you guys anyway?” he asked.

“Nothing. Just a lover’s quarrel,” Dave joked
caustically. “We have a history. Some sort of
connection
, if you will…”

“I’ve noticed,” Harper said, keeping his eyes on the
road. “You shouldn’t be drinking.” He glared into the rearview mirror, and I
could feel his disappointment. “Not with all the pain meds I gave you.”

Dave scoffed. “
I’m
not the one you should be
worried about,” he muttered under his breath.

“Dammit Dave! You’re such an asshole! Get over yourself,
and stop pouting!” I shouted. “It’s like we’re in fourth grade or something.”

“If you two are finished…” Harper pointed at two imposing
tanks flanking the entrance to the base.
Welcome to Fort Knox
, the sign
read.

Ignoring Dave, who was humming circus tunes in the back
of the squad car, I took in the lifeless scene around me. The landscape was
mostly barren except for the woods that crept up behind the towering brick
buildings ahead.

Harper hunched over the steering wheel to get a better
view through the windshield. “This place is so old. I’m surprised it’s still
standing.”

We followed Dave’s truck along the winding roads in
search of the location the broadcast had identified as the makeshift command
post—the civilian barracks. “They said there were Survivors, but it doesn’t look
like it,” Harper said, putting the car in park.

As we sat in front of a large, gray building, the hair on
the back of my neck stood on end. A sudden wave of wretchedness washed over me
when I stepped out of the vehicle.

I don’t like this
place.

Date: December 21, 5:15 PM

From: Zoe Cartwright

To: Danielle O’Connor

Subject: Something’s not right...

D,

We have arrived! We’re at Fort Knox, and I’m completely
creeped
out right now. Captain Jones and Second Lieutenant
Taylor (they seem particularly attached to their titles) are the officers in
charge here. In fact, they appear to be the only military people left. I don’t
like the way they’ve been looking at Sarah and me. There’s an unquenchable
thirst in their eyes. It’s really disturbing.

I tried to tell Dave that I have a bad feeling about this
place, but he’s drunk and being a complete dickhead—as usual. Since we arrived,
Harper and Sanchez haven’t been away from Jones, so I haven’t had a chance to
tell to them about my bad feeling.

At least I have Harper to talk to amidst this whole fiasco.
Sarah’s lost to her swooning heart, and Sanchez and I aren’t really on friendly
terms. Dave is deplorable. Harper though, he seems to have befriended me. I’m
thinking I should reconsider his solicitation...release some angst ;0) Maybe
I’d feel better. I’m just saying…

As for my weird powers, I’m definitely comforted to hear
that some of your people are experiencing something like I am. It makes me feel
a little less...crazy. However, I’m not so comforted by what your friend said
about Cece. I reiterate…BE CAREFUL. Please.

Jones is walking toward me. Great…he looks like he wants
something. I’ll write again soon.

Hasta,

Zoe

Dani

“LEARN.”

It’s him. Turning
in circles, I attempted to peer through the endless, gray mist. It was
everywhere, dense and warm. I tried to escape it by running a dozen steps in a
random direction, but the mist remained. It was oddly comforting, like soaking
in a bubble bath with only candles for light.

“LEARN.”

Where is he? I
looked up, but there was still only mist. Embracing, soothing, caressing—the
foggy gray substance surrounded me. It seemed to exist in all physical states
at once. It was gaseous, allowing movement and breath. It was liquid, pressing
against every inch of my body. It was solid, brushing against my stomach and
tickling my neck.

“LEARN.”

Is he doing this?
He’s not even real! So, am I doing this? My body grew warm. My pajamas became
uncomfortably tight and itchy. Brushing sweaty palms against my cotton shorts,
I drew a ragged breath. My fingertips had grazed the bare skin of my thighs,
causing a burst of fiery pleasure. What the hell?

“LEARN.”

“Learn what?” I
rasped. The fog brushed against my ankles, then my knees, and then my thighs,
creating unbearable tingles. I licked my lips and groaned, overwhelmed by the
sensation. It was too much. I cleared my throat and screamed, “LEARN WHAT?”

“LEA—”

Suddenly the mist
disappeared, and I floated in a sea of soothing, white nothingness.

“Dani, wake up,” a
man whispered.

In bed, I lurched into a sitting position as I opened my
eyes. In the faint dawn light I could see Jason’s face, tensed with a hint of
concern, inches from my own. He was sitting on the edge of the bed with his hip
pressed against the outside of my thigh. His hands gently gripped my bare
shoulders. Everywhere he touched me, my skin burned with pleasure. Everywhere
else ached for his touch.

“You were moaning,” he murmured. “Bad dream?”

Closing my eyes, I took a shuddering breath. I desperately
needed to regain control of my body before I did something embarrassing. “Not
exactly,” I breathed.

When I reopened my eyes, Jason’s iris’s shone with such
intensity they seemed to be composed of burning natural gas. Slowly, like
falling feathers, his hands slid from my shoulders to my wrists.

I looked down at the quilt, overwhelmed by the intensity
of his gaze. “Please,” I whispered, unsure of what I was requesting. My body
hummed in anticipation of where he might touch me next. At the same time, a
small seed of doubt took root in my chest.
Is he just teasing me?

“Please what, Red?” he breathed, the words brushing
against my neck like a caress. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see one
side of his mouth quirk up in amusement. So he
was
just teasing me. He
probably thought my infatuation with him was just one big decades-long joke.

“Please stop touching me, Jason,” I said, proud of the
steadiness of my voice.

His hands closed around my wrists, and his thumbs stroked
the sensitive, transparent skin. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

No. You are such an asshole.
“Yes,” I snapped,
ripping my wrists from his grasp. Using my go-to maneuver, I clambered across
the empty bed, my escape only slightly hindered by the sheets, and fell off the
opposite edge. At least I was running from humiliation rather than a crazy girl
with a terrifyingly sharp knife.

“Get over yourself. You’re not
that
amazing,” I
spat. I stomped across the hall to the bathroom and slammed the door.

“I’ll meet you on the lawn in fifteen minutes,” Jason
called through the whitewashed wood. He was laughing.
Dick.

What the hell kind of dream was that?
I wondered
grumpily while I glared at my reflection in the mirror. My vibrant curls stuck
out in all directions. Evidently it was a French braid day…again. I pondered
chopping off the whole frizzy mess, but I figured a short, red afro wasn’t
really my look.

As I deftly braided my hair, I studied my face.
How
long has it been since I wore makeup? Two weeks? More?
The thought was
equally shocking and reassuring. I wasn’t just girly Dani anymore. I’d become
survivor Dani, equipped with sore muscles and a practical fashion sense.

After washing up, I returned to my room to dress and arm
myself with my usual shoulder holster and pistol, assured that my nerve endings
were back to normal. I tore open a peanut butter and chocolate chip protein bar
as I exited the bedroom, tripping over my dog on the way out.

Jack wagged his tail happily while I righted myself.
“Good morning, Sweet Boy,” I said between bites.

He yawned dramatically and bowed, earning the last nugget
of the tasteless bar.

As I lumbered down the stairs, a plan of revenge formed
in my mind. I waved at Chris and Ky, apparently the only other people awake at
such an ungodly hour, as I neared the front room’s largest window. I peeked
around the heavy tan and green-striped curtain and spotted Jason standing on
the lawn—he was staring off into the woods. Smiling, I led Jack to the back
door, and we silently slipped out into the damp morning chill.

Pausing on the back porch, I clicked my tongue, and my
dog watched me intently. “Okay Jack,” I whispered, kneeling down in front of
him. “You’re going to go that way.” I pointed to the left side of the house,
and his eyes followed. “Find Jason. You need to be happy and loud.” I scratched
his neck with both hands. He licked my cheek in return.

“Go find Jason,” I commanded quietly and stood. Jack
instantly trotted away, barking every few steps.

Stalking in the opposite direction, I made my way around
the house and found Jason watching Jack frolic like a month-old puppy. The
grass muffled my steps as I snuck up behind him. I crouched, gliding the last
few steps, and held my breath.
Revenge is so sweet!

I raised my foot and jammed it into the back of Jason’s leg,
making his knee buckle. Before he could regain his balance, my arm snaked
around his shoulders and yanked him to the ground. On his way down, he grasped
my wrist and pulled me to the grass with him. I used the added momentum and sat
heavily astride his abdomen.

He grunted. “Ow,” he said once he’d regained his breath.

Smiling down at him ecstatically, I bounced and
proclaimed, “I win!”

“You think?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Ha! I
know
!” I slapped his firm chest with both
hands, hoping for another grunt. It didn’t come.

Instead his gloved hands found my thighs and slid up to
rest on my jean-covered hips. I was suddenly
very
aware of the fact that
I was straddling him. Without warning, his hands tightened, and he flipped me
over onto the cold grass. He grabbed my wrists and held them together above my
head.

I squirmed, attempting to dislodge his hold on me, but I
might as well have been fighting against iron restraints.

“Oh, Red. You’ll never beat me,” he whispered near my
ear.

In all of my wriggling, I’d managed to maneuver my right
leg between both of his. I’d expended quite a bit of energy flailing about, but
I had just enough left. With a grunt, I brought my leg up against his
groin—hard.

Groaning, Jason rolled off me and curled into the fetal
position on the lawn.

Jack ceased his enthusiastic prancing and jumping to
crouch in front of Jason’s face. He sniffed and nuzzled the man until he
received some weak pets.

I sat up and reached out to touch Jason’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,
Jason! But…you told me that’s what I’m supposed to do if a guy has me pinned to
the ground.” He didn’t respond.

“Jason, I…Are you mad at me?” I asked weakly, feeling a
little sick.

When Jason finally sat up and faced me, he was smiling,
if a little sickly. “No. That was perfect. I wasn’t sure you had it in you to
really hurt someone, but now I know.”

“Oh. Um…thanks?”

Jason stood, brushing off stray bits of grass. I did the
same, still breathing heavier than normal from the exertion—and, possibly, from
the excitement.

“I’d say you’re warmed up,” he said. “Let’s wake everyone
with some target practice.”

We walked in silence, and as we neared the makeshift
shooting range, I froze in horror. Three of the cardboard targets had been
painted, each with a different blood-red word.

SHOOT.                             

YOURSELF.

DANI.

It was Cece’s doing—it had to be. Unbidden, tears welled
in my eyes, and I blinked them away angrily.
I won’t let her make me cry!

“This needs to end,” Jason growled, turning back toward
the house. He made it three steps before I planted myself in front of him.

“Jason, don’t you dare!” He stepped to the side to go
around me, and I mirrored the motion.

“Dani.
Move
.” His voice sounded hollow,
determined.

“No!” I yelled. In my best impression of my angry Irish
grandma, I placed my hands on my hips and demanded, “You’re not going after her
because of this. Can’t you see that’s what she wants you to do? She and John
and the rest of her idiots are probably waiting for you right now. If you go
after them…then what? We all get in a huge fight and end up killing each other?
What happens to the rest of us if they take you out? Jason…you…your calm
logic…that’s the only thing holding us together. Safety in numbers, remember?
We need you.
I
need you.”

His jaw clenched at my last statement.

“You’re staying here, with me, and finishing this damn
training session!” I tried my best to loom over him, which was difficult
considering Jason was about a foot taller than me. I took a step toward him.

Miraculously, he stepped back.

Pretty sure he would follow, I brushed past him and
returned to the shooting range. I hoped he didn’t hear my gigantic sigh of
relief.
If they kill him because of me, I don’t know what I’ll do.

Jason stood by my side for the next hour and coached me
until the hateful words were riddled with enough bullet holes that they were no
longer legible.

Date: December 22, 9:00 AM

From: Danielle O’Connor

To: Zoe Cartwright

Subject: It’s getting old…

Zo,

So, I kind of had a run-in with Cece this morning. Is there
such a thing as passive-aggressive bullying (I feel like I’m in elementary
school saying “bully”)? If so, that’s what she’s doing. She’s such a bitch.
Anyway, Jason woke me super early to get in some extra how-to-be-violent
training. When we got to our little make-shift shooting range, the words “SHOOT
YOURSELF DANI” were written on the targets. Jason was ready to march off and
end things then and there, but somehow I managed to reign him in. Who would’ve
thought?

I know you probably disagree with my decision to stop him,
but I think they (Cece, John, and company) are trying to get Jason to attack
them. Because, you know, that way they’d have a good excuse to “depose” him as
group leader...maybe even kill him. I had a good reason, you see? I had to keep
him safe. It’s hard though—I don’t know how much longer I can stand this.

On a totally unrelated note, I had another dream with MG
last night. This one was different, foggy. No literally, I was surrounded by
fog. It was definitely not your normal, chilly day fog either. But that’s not
important. From all around me his voice kept saying, “learn.” Learn what? And
MG never even made a real appearance. My dreams are getting so odd and vivid.
Sometimes I dread going to sleep because I know I’ll wake up troubled and
confused.

Anyway, we’re about to leave for Fort Bragg, where we have
another two-day stop—this time for Ky and Holly (Army Ranger chick…the only
other one besides Chris). We’ll be a three-hour drive from Bodega Bay, but I’ll
have to wait three more days to get there. This is so frustrating!

By the way, I really don’t like the sound of those two new
guys you mentioned. Please be careful around them. At least you seem to have
found a friend in Harper, and he can help keep you safe with his super kung
fu
military training. And he’s hot. So did you? Reconsider
his offer, I mean...? Don’t leave out the juicy details, Zo!

Ciao,

Dani

I walked around the driveway, studying my new surroundings.
The house sprawled around me, enormous, beige, and boxy, looking more like a
modern stucco apartment building than a family home. Dense chunks of forest
surrounded the house, breaking up the fields of tall grasses.

I meandered over to Ky, who had grown up in the
outrageous place, and asked, “Are you sure about this? I bet we can still go
somewhere else.”

Smiling, Ky placed his arm over my shoulders and pulled
me into a side hug. “Nah. I had to come here eventually, and I’d rather stay at
my house than another random place. Sometimes it just feels right to come home.
You know what I mean, D?”

“Yeah,” I agreed.
I want to go home too.
My
desperation to drive the three more hours to Bodega Bay was overwhelming,
keeping me on the verge of tears.

Ky tightened his hold on me and whispered, “It’s worse
here—like the mother of all thunderstorms is building up around her, and I
don’t know what to expect. All I know is that it’s gonna be bad.”

Goosebumps pebbled my skin, and a chill seeped into my
body.

Before I could respond, Chris appeared on my other side
and slipped her arm around my waist, making us a sweet little trio of comfort.
“What’re you kiddos doing over here?” Seconds after she touched me, my dread
simply evaporated.

“Just talking about home,” I replied wistfully.