After the Ending (29 page)

I gave her a flat look.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” she said, rising. She walked
away without a backward glance.

I sighed, trying—and failing—not to look at the
glistening skeleton about a dozen feet away. The Crazy’s corpse had been picked
clean…mostly. There were still pieces of bloody clothing and globs of hair. I
struggled to make my mind reconcile the horrific sight with the man who’d
attacked me only hours before. With unexpected pity, I hoped it had been the
blow from the shovel that had killed him, not the animals tearing him apart
alive. It was too horrible a fate to wish on anyone…
well, except Cece,
maybe…

Picking myself up off the freezing floor, I hurried away
from both the ghastly scene and my vengeful thoughts, ignoring the throb in my
heel. Unfortunately, I was instead approaching Jason and a confrontation I was
nearly as eager to avoid as my attacker’s decimated remains.

I fell in step behind Jason as he strode away. “Jason?” I
asked meekly. He halted abruptly, and I bumped into his back with an “Oomph!”

While I regained my balance and some modicum of decorum,
Jason turned to face me. I took several hasty steps backward. Everything about
him was stiff—his clenched fists, his taut neck muscles, and his unusually thin
lips. Silently, he stared at me, though it felt more like getting a full-body
MRI.

“Jason, I—”

“You
what
?” he exploded, stalking toward me.

I backed up, my pace increasing with his, my sore heel
forgotten. Though my mouth opened, no words came out. I was struck dumb by the
waves of sheer fury emanating from him. It was how I imagined
I
had
looked when I’d confronted him about moving Cam’s body.

“You left without a word. You came to my room. You said
goodnight. And you
knew
you were leaving,” he said coldly, his tone like
a thin layer of ice encapsulating an inferno. “Zoe didn’t give me your message
until the next fucking night. I spent a whole day not knowing what’d happened
to you, not knowing if you were dead. And then
my sister
tells me about
Cece’s goddamn note.
You
didn’t tell me!” he yelled, still pushing me
back with the force of his anger. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me? I could’ve
helped you.”

“You could’ve died!” I screamed back. “I was trying to
protect you!”

“I can protect myself!”

I scoffed. “Sure, like you protected yourself at Grams’s
house?” As soon as the words were out, I wished I could catch them and stuff
them back down my throat.

“How’d you…you
were
there! I
knew
it!”
After a brief pause he lowered his voice and added, “You made her leave, didn’t
you? What’d you do?” Each word was pronounced precisely, making his quietness
more ominous than his earlier yelling.

Gulping in the suddenly scarce air, I explained, “I spoke
in…her mind. I…threatened her…if she didn’t…” Backing into the rusty door, I
whispered, “I couldn’t let her do it, Jason. I couldn’t lose you.”

He stopped inches from me, his toes nearly touching mine.
“I almost killed her. Multiple times. Fuck Dani, I
should
have! But
Chris and Ky might’ve…If I’d screwed up, Cece and the others would’ve gone
after them, maybe killed them.” He turned and walked several steps away, hiding
whatever unwanted emotions plagued him.

“Jason, I’m—”

When he faced me, his outward composure had returned. He
was, once again, the emotionless statue I’d come to know so well. Quietly, he
said, “You should have told me about the note when you first read it. We could
have figured it out together.”

“I know.” It was simple, but true. The realization may
have come slowly, but I knew that whatever happened, whatever threat loomed
ahead, Jason and I would face it together. The meaning of
together
was
still a great unknown. Friends? More? But he needed to know that—to know I
believed in him…depended on him…trusted him. “I’m so sorry, Jason. I won’t
leave you again.”

His momentary composure abruptly disintegrated, revealing
frustration and anger, as well as hope and joy. And above all else, desire. In
two purposeful strides he was on me, his hands forcing my shoulders against the
door as his lips devoured mine. He was relentless, stroking my tongue with his
as soon as our bodies met. It was unlike any kiss I’d ever experienced—devoid
of thought or reason, purely based on mutual need. If Jason had continued
kissing me forever, I would’ve gladly obliged. But, of course, he didn’t.

Seconds after restraining me, he pulled back and spun
away. “FUCK!” he shouted, punching the wooden slats between two empty stalls
before striding off.

Date: January 1, 7:15 AM

From: Danielle O’Connor

To: Zoe Cartwright

Subject: Surprise...I’m alive!

Zo,

Happy New Year? Let’s try that again...HAPPY NEW YEAR!

I’m back with Jason and the group, or what’s left of them.
So, obviously I didn’t get myself killed when I went off on my own. Yes, I was
stupid. Yes, I’m sorry. Yes, I promise to consult with you before I do
something so drastic again. I’m really
really
really
REALLY
sorry. Really. I
hope you’ll forgive me someday.

So, this is crazy (pun intended)…I’ve been staying at the
Riders’ Ranch, and I sort of had a Crazy attack me last night. I also sort of
killed him…I’m not really sure how I feel about that. Jason and the others
ended up finding me shortly afterwards because I called them to me…with my
mind. Yeah...I kind of have an Ability like you do (according the MG, these
Abilities are popping up all over the place), except mine’s totally different
from yours. You know, if I hadn’t known about yours before all my weirdness
started happening, I probably still wouldn’t believe it was real. But it is. So
here goes...

I’m telepathic.

It’s serious craziness. Mind to mind talk with people and, I
swear I’ll hit you if you start laughing when you read this, animals. I sent
out this massive mind message to anyone and everything in the area when the Crazy
came after me. I actually had wild animals come to my aid. Totally ridiculous,
I know. They ate him, by the way. Gross. But at least I’m alive, right?

Also, you should know that the Cece faction has departed
indefinitely. I don’t know if Jason already told you about that. They took all
of our vehicles and most of the equipment. I have no idea where they’ve gone,
which is kind of scary because Cece seems to have some sort of mind control
power over her minions. Anyway, she almost killed Jason and Chris, and if I see
her again, I’ll kill her…or at least I’ll try. That’s right…I’m a badass...sort
of. Not really. But whatever.

And now for the really bad news...an email is really the
worst possible way to tell you this, but I have to. Grams and your dad didn’t
survive. I’m so sorry, Zo. I’m not handling it all that well either. Grams left
a note before she died letting me know she’d found your dad. He’d already
passed. He was holding a picture of you and Jason with a message scrawled on
the back, as well as a key on a chain. Grams left both items for me, so I’ll
pass them on to Jason…when I tell him…about your dad. I’m procrastinating, you
see. He’s been a little difficult in the few hours we’ve been under the same
roof. I guess he’s still a little pissed about the whole running away thing. I
really am sorry about your dad, Zo. I wish I could be with you right now.

I’m eager (understatement of the year) to hear about what’s
been going on in your neck of the woods ever since I made my failed attempt at
being a pioneer woman. Won’t happen again, by the way. I’m just not made for
the lone ranger kind of life. I hope you’re safe. Oh, and Jason kissed me.

Ciao,

Dani

Zoe

“You’re not focusing!”
Sanchez’s voice rang in my head.
She was sitting only inches from me on one of the picnic benches in the quad.
She’d caught me glaring at the barracks—I’d spent too much time crying within
its walls and was grateful to finally be outside.

“
Really
? Do you have to yell?” My brain already
felt swollen from the emotional, sleepless night that had followed my reading
of Dani’s email. Dani was alive. But my dad wasn’t. When I’d seen the email in
my inbox, I’d barely been able to hold back tears of relief, but upon reading
it I couldn’t refrain from crying tears of anguish. I thought I’d previously
come to terms with my dad’s death, but my reaction to Dani’s email had proved
otherwise. The hundreds of things I wished I could say to him had swirled in my
mind as I’d cried into the night. God, I was tired of crying.

“Well, pay
attention,”
Sanchez said.

“I am,” I responded coolly, trying to ignore Sanchez’s
narrowed eyes and pinched mouth. “So, recapping…you can’t hear or read my
thoughts, but I can hear yours.” I paused, waiting for Sanchez to nod. “You
can’t talk to animals, can you?”

Her face scrunched in confusion. “What? No, why?”

“Nothing. Never mind.”

“Your turn.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to remove
myself from the present. I tried to block out the beautiful sunset I wanted to
watch and the bullfrogs croaking loudly down at the pond. I tried to ignore the
fact that I yearned, as usual, for an early spring.

Finally pushing all distractions from my mind, I pictured
Sanchez sitting in front of me. I thought of her mind, her face, and the way
she tended to glare at me impatiently. But nothing came.

“Let me try something else,” I thought out loud.

Erasing the image of Sanchez from my head, I thought of
the universe. I thought of blackness and infinity, of all the stars and planets
and galaxies, and how insignificant I was in relation to all of it.

Again, nothing came.

Taking another approach, I opened my eyes and reached out
to touch her. Her impatience was heavy, burdening my senses, so I let go.

“Well, we know touch works without fail,” I said in
exasperation.
I wish I knew how the hell to control this…thing.

“And your mind?”

“I’m still working on that one.”

Taking a deep breath, I again attempted to reach out to
her with my mind. “I have no idea what I’m doing,” I muttered. I couldn’t help
but laugh at the bizarreness of the situation. “I can’t believe I’m trying to
read your mind.”

“Just concentrate—I’m sure you’re more in tune with your
unique talent than you think.”

I focused all my attention on seeking the surges and tingles
of energy I felt floating around the periphery of my consciousness. They would
come and go as they pleased, meowing and pawing at the back door of my mind
like stray cats. I was able to ignore them most of the time, but once I was
seeking them out, they’d scurried away.

Trying to concentrate on the unknown was a challenge, but
I must’ve done something right. I felt a tug on my consciousness. Opening
myself up to it, I felt a sense of impatience and frustration dancing around
me, two emotions I easily identified as Sanchez’s. Pulling them closer with my
mind, I reached further in.

I saw myself through Sanchez’s eyes, sitting in front of
her with my legs crossed. I barely recognized myself, and I wasn’t sure if it
was because I was looking at myself through someone else’s eyes or because I’d
changed so much. A lot had happened over the past few weeks. I’d lost weight,
making my cheekbones more prominent, and I looked weak, even though I felt
stronger than I ever had before. Defensively, I sat up straighter.

Losing myself in Sanchez’s mind, I watched a montage of
memories parade through my awareness, a tornado of emotions swirling around
them.

Sanchez was worried
about us. Our group was in the mess hall eating dinner, and she anxiously
watched us from afar. Her mind was bombarded by the pressure of being our
leader and trying to protect us against the unknown.

Sanchez was looking
in a mirror, her face wet from crying. She pushed her emotions away with fierce
determination and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Refocusing on her
reflection, she made sure she appeared perfectly composed. She sighed before
straightening her outfit and walking out her barracks room door.

Sanchez stared down
at her fallen squad members—slaughtered and strewn on the snow-covered ground.

Sanchez and Harper
were lying in bed together, younger and uncertain, different than I knew them.

Sanchez was driving
through the desert, looking out at the barren land around her with a gleeful
smile on her face.

Sanchez was peering
between her childish fingers as she hid her face. She was cringing as her
father’s hand came down across her mother’s cheek. Her mother was crying and
running after him as he drove away.

I’d seen too much, and with a jolt, I pulled myself away from
Sanchez’s mind. Sitting in front of her, I saw a different woman than I had
before—instead of austere and distant, I now saw her as strong, protective, and
guarded. She was a true survivor, an independent woman forged from suffering
and loss. For the first time, thinking of never seeing her again once I left
for Colorado made me feel sad.

“Are you alright?” Her hand brushed my arm. “Zoe, are you
okay? You’re really pale.”

“Yeah, thanks. That was just…” I knew she wouldn’t
appreciate that I’d seen the memories of her past, felt her deepest fears and
emotions. “That was more difficult than I thought.”

“What’s it like? What did you see?” she asked anxiously.

“It was a rush of images I couldn’t really piece
together, but at least now I think I know how to access them,” I said, giving
her half the truth.

She smiled hopefully. “But it worked?”

“Yeah.” I nodded as she watched me intently. I wasn’t
sure what other private memories I’d uncover if we continued, so I said, “But
it took a lot of energy…I’m sort of zapped. I’m gonna call it a day, okay?”

“Sure,” she said, but there was a hint of skepticism in
her voice.

To avoid any further questions, I stood abruptly. “Sorry,
I’m getting antsy. I need to move around. Must be all that time in bed.” I
stretched my back dramatically and said the first thing that came to my mind.
“I think I’ll go for a walk. I’ll see you at dinner.”

Sanchez nodded, and I strolled away.

Folding my arms, I pretended to be lost in thought as I
scuffed my feet along the pathway.

“
We’ll talk more later,”
I heard Sanchez say in my
head. Without turning, I waved to her and continued toward the barracks.
Walking inside, I meandered, unsure of what to do. Dave, Stacey, and Sarah were
deep in conversation in the common room, and the others weren’t around, so I
was on my own.

Realizing that what I’d said to Sanchez was true—I’d done
enough sitting around—I snatched my sketchbook and a few pencils from my room
and headed back out to capture the final rays of the sunset.

In an attempt to avoid Sanchez, I moved between vacant
buildings toward the gym. I hadn’t done much exploring, especially not after
what we’d found at the hospital off-base. Walking around alone was
intimidating, but I welcomed the fresh air.
Maybe I’ll find Harper and Biggs
in the gym.

As I continued on, I soaked in the landscape around me.
Dead leaves lined the gutters of the well-worn roads, and withered weeds poked
through jagged cracks in the sidewalk. I wondered if Fort Knox always looked so
desolate. I tried to imagine red and orange leaves on the trees in autumn, and
green grass and blooming flowers along the pathways in the spring. But I’d only
known it as a barren, abandoned base, and I couldn’t picture it as anything
else.

Coming around the corner of the small post office, I heard
a clanking noise. I froze, unsure if I should continue my exploration. After
hearing it again—the distinct sound of metal hitting metal—I decided to
investigate. I poked my head around the corner of the building and saw a few
old cars parked alongside a repair garage and scattered throughout a small
parking lot. In the right stall of the garage, a wheel-less Humvee was
suspended on a lift, and a black panel van occupied the stall on the left.

Another bang suggested someone was working inside.
Curiously, I wandered closer to the garage, expecting to see Biggs piddling
around. Instead, I found Jake bent over the open hood of the van. His
long-sleeve thermal shirt pulled tightly over his arms and back while he
wrenched. His sleeves were pushed up so they bunched around his elbows, and I
couldn’t help but notice the muscles in his forearms flexing with each twist of
his wrist.

“Hey,” I said stupidly, knowing that if he found me
watching him and I’d said nothing, it would be even more awkward.

His body jerked and he bumped his head on the van’s hood.
“Shit!” he barked.

I hid my sudden grin with my sketchbook. “Sorry, I didn’t
mean to scare you.”

He stared at me for a moment—taking me in, ensuring I
wasn’t a Crazy. Small streaks of grease stained his forehead and left cheek,
indicating he’d used a dirty arm to wipe his face.

“What are you doing here?” he asked harshly, but his
flushed cheeks and ragged breathing indicated he was just flustered.

“I was taking a walk and heard some noises,” I explained
as I made my way into the garage.

Surveying the unfamiliar surroundings, I noticed the shop
was littered with dirty objects that I knew nothing about. I was sure they were
all parts of cars—or tools for fixing broken parts of cars—but the whole mess
looked like a bunch of junk to me. Tools with red and black handles were strewn
about on work benches, covered in a layer of dust that told me they hadn’t been
used in a while. The cement floor was stained with grime; I could feel it under
my shoes, sticky and gritty. Dirty red rags decorated the large, tiered
toolboxes and stools. The shop was a complete mess—exactly the way I expected a
repair garage to be…except for the area around Jake.

He had a row of sockets and wrenches lined-up on the
floor in front of the van. Descending in size, almost a perfect half inch away
from one another, the tools lay waiting to be used. Jake was cranking a wrench,
making it click rapidly as his wrist moved in a back and forth motion. A
semi-clean red rag hung out of his back pocket, and a folded beanie lay on a
stool nearby.

He’s a neat freak
, I realized.
Probably a
perfectionist too.
I nodded to myself.
That explains a lot.
His cool
exterior was only a glimpse into his need to remain in control.

As he continued working, I perused the shop. The more I
walked around, the more I realized I liked the unique way the place smelled.

“Why are you smiling?” Jake asked quietly, looking up at
me.

“Am I smiling?” My smile widened to a grin. “I guess I’ve
just never been in a garage like this before. I like it.” The look on his face
changed, a sort of surprise replacing his curiosity. “What’s wrong with this
one?” I asked, pointing to the van he was working on.

“I thought the battery was dead, but it’s…” Registering my
confusion, he paused and stood straighter. “I’m replacing the alternator,” he
said.

“Oh, cool. Nothing you can’t handle then?”

“No, not unless I break something else,” he joked dryly.

Sidling up to the van, I leaned in. “You like to work on
cars?”

“It keeps my mind busy.” He turned back to the maze of
metal and hoses under the hood.

I nodded and straightened. “I understand. That’s why I
like drawing.”

Jake said nothing and returned to cranking the wrench. No
matter how much he played it off, he seemed to know exactly what he was doing.
There was no hesitation or fumbling in his movements.

He can fight; he
fixes cars; he knows how to put on a fireworks show…
“Can I ask you
something else?”

Reaching down into the engine, he nodded.

“It’s about the fireworks,” I said before I could lose my
nerve.

Jake withdrew from the engine and straightened, the look
on his face reflecting my own feelings of discomfort. Although I was a
twenty-six-year-old woman looking at a thirty-something-year-old man, my heart
raced like I was a teenager and he was the first boy I’d ever liked.
Liked?
I don’t know if I’d go that far…he intrigues me…that’s all.

“Why did you do it?” Changing my mind, I amended, “I
mean, how?”

He glanced at me, and after a brief pause, shrugged
indifferently. “I lit the fuses.”

 My eyes narrowed in frustration until I noticed
something. Although his face was expressionless, there was a glint of amusement
in his eyes. He was teasing me.

I might’ve fallen for his antics a week earlier, when I
thought my presence repulsed him, but I’d come to know better. His actions told
me more about him than his words ever would.
Two can play this game, Mr.
Vaughn.
As I schemed, my pulse quickened.

 “Obviously you lit the fuses,” I said coolly,
inching closer to the van. I wondered what it would take to provoke an honest
reaction from him.

I leaned against the van, resting my elbows on the cold
metal framing the engine bay. Without fully knowing what came over me, I arched
my back, feeling my breasts bulge out the top of my tight
v-neck
.
My pants hugged my ass as I stuck it out noticeably. The motion pulled my shirt
up slightly to reveal a hint of my lower back.

Jake’s eyes moved over my curves, quickly assessing every
inch of me. My mind betrayed me, and I wondered what it’d feel like to have his
hands on me. He must’ve wondered something similar because his eyes briefly
glazed over with desire. For the first time, I felt strong around him, in
control. I grinned in victory, and he narrowed his eyes, looking down to clean
the wrench he’d been using.