After the Ending (5 page)

Dani

I gripped the doorknob and, not knowing what to expect
inside the bedroom, felt my palm slicken with sweat. Questions circled in my
mind like crazed vultures.
Will it smell like Cam? Will it smell like death?
Will it smell like rotting meat? Has he been decomposing over the past five
days, melting into our bed? What will he look like?

Turning my wrist, I let the door creak open. I instantly
focused on the bed—the empty bed. I stood in the doorway for a few minutes,
staring dumbly as my mind reconciled the placid, blank scene with the horrors
I’d imagined.
Where is he?

“Get it together, Dani,” I mumbled. I was in the damn
room for two reasons: to pack and to say goodbye. Cam might not have been there
to do the latter, but I could still gather some things together.

I forced myself into motion, gliding around the room to collect
certain indispensable belongings: clothes, cell phone, journal, small photo
album. I tossed the priceless items on the exposed mattress, and when I added
Zoe’s recent birthday present—a beautifully sketched depiction of a man in a
chef’s coat kissing the hand of a seated, curly-haired woman—I nearly collapsed
into tears. She had perfectly captured the first time Cam and I had met. The
only thing preventing a torrential emotional flood was the violent anger
simmering in my blood.
Where the hell is Cam?

Obviously Jason had moved Cam’s body, and he’d done it
without telling me…without letting me say goodbye. Fury boiled within me as I
snatched a duffel bag out of the closet.
Dammit, Jason!
I shoved
everything into the bag, clothes and mementos alike, and hastily zipped it
shut.
You had no right!

With a grunt, I dragged the deformed bag into the
hallway, slamming the bedroom door behind me. Seething, I stalked around the
rest of the two-bedroom apartment in search of Jason. There weren’t many places
to look. I’d barely seen him since the day he’d arrived, so I wasn’t surprised
to find him absent.

Jack whined and scratched at the front door, capturing my
attention.
Where’s Jason? Next door?

In a flash, I passed through the doorway, sprinted down
the hall, and burst into the nearest neighboring apartment. Four men, each
decked in tan and gray-green camouflage fatigues, rose from their seats at an
oblong table and pointed guns in my direction.

I barely noticed and hardly cared. “Jason,” I hissed,
“where’s Jason?” Jack augmented the question with a menacing growl.

All but one gun was lowered; the remaining aimed at Jack
by a youthful, brown-haired man. “Should’ve killed the mangy fuck when he went
after Cece,” he proclaimed, clicking the safety back in place.

The only one of the men I’d previously met, Ky, nodded
toward the bedrooms down the hallway, and one of the others bellowed, “JASON!”

Seconds later, the farthest bedroom door banged open,
expelling an irritated, shirtless Jason. He pulled a gray t-shirt over his
head, and sounding completely annoyed, said, “I thought I told you dumbshits to
leave us…ah…alone.” His voice softened when he noticed me. “Dani? What’s
wrong?”

Behind him, a small, voluptuous woman emerged from the
same doorway. A smirk danced across her exotic face as she sauntered toward me,
her dark, disheveled hair swaying with each step.

“You must be Dani. I’m Cecilia, but everyone calls me
Cece.” Her warm tone competed with the icy chill in her eyes. “Jason and I were
just—”

“A pleasure,” I interrupted and brushed past her. Had I
been a cat, my tail would’ve been lashing.

As I neared Jason, he stiffly stood in place, his
expression blank.

Stopping within arm’s reach, I asked—my words thick with
venom—“Where’s Cam?”

Jason answered without hesitation. “We moved his body
out. While you were getting cleaned up.” He watched me cautiously, like I was
an injured animal. But I wasn’t hurt; I was pissed.

My mind snapped back to our conversation three days
earlier, to my confusion at his abrupt change of subject.
This is what he
was going to tell me—that he’d disposed of Cam’s body without my permission…

“You should’ve asked. You should’ve told me,” I said
through gritted teeth and swung my arm without thinking.

Jason’s eyes closed as my hand smacked against his
clenched jaw. When they reopened, his eyes glowed with fierce determination.
“You shouldn’t have to remember him like that. If we’d left him in there for
three more days…”

He’s right, dammit!
I thought, recalling the
horrifying images I’d imagined. But I was still furious.
He should’ve asked!
I tried to ignore the small, bitter part of me that knew my rage should’ve
been directed inward.
I should have been with Cam when he died. He asked me
to stay with him.

The world around us seemed to fade out of existence as
Jason and I stared at each other. His aquamarine eyes pulled me in, their
fierce intensity refusing to release me. That he had the audacity to stand
before me with those stunning eyes—set in that achingly handsome face—only
fueled my anger. My pulse sped, breath coming faster, and I knew we were
building to something unforgivable.

I breathed in and opened my mouth. “You—”

“Dani?” Chris asked, penetrating the haze of my fury. Her
arm wrapped protectively around my narrow shoulders. “Let’s get you some
breakfast before we leave, hmm?” She turned me away from Jason, breaking our
eye contact along with the building tension, and guided me back toward the
front door.

With each step, my anger dissipated and reason returned.
As Chris walked me through the apartment’s entrance, I looked back at Jason, my
chin trembling and eyes pleading for forgiveness.

He closed his eyes and bowed his head.

The door swung shut.

Date: December 14, 8:30 AM

From: Danielle O’Connor

To: Zoe Cartwright

Subject: The Plan

Zo,

I’m just about to leave my apartment, possibly forever. I
wonder if leaving this place will help heal the gaping wound in my heart. Or
will I forget bits and pieces of Cam, little by little, until I only have the
barest memory? I just hope something changes. This feeling is unbearable.

We’re not actually setting out on our grand (note the
sarcasm) journey into the changed (shitty) world yet. We still have to gather a
ton of supplies. The group has cleaned out a bunch of the packaged and canned
foods from the apartments in my building, but there are other things we’ll
need. This place is starting to
reek
—everyone who
lived here is dead or gone. How is that even possible?

There’s another big problem—all of the gas stations are out
of fuel. One team spent the entire day yesterday in a “borrowed” car checking
gas stations all over Seattle. They were all dry. It’s like people hung on long
enough to use up all the fuel before they keeled over. Dicks. We have some fuel
cans which we’re filling with gas siphoned from nearby cars, but we can only
carry so much. Is the fuel situation the same over there?

In a moment of sheer genius I convinced Jason it would be
worth it to stock up on camping supplies. I mean, if we get stranded in the
middle of nowhere, that stuff will be super useful. So, we’re spending the
morning at that huge REI in downtown Seattle—the one you dragged me to last
summer. That’s where we’re going when we leave in...
crap
...five minutes.

I’m so freaking glad that Dave is with you and that you’re
leaving Salem; I don’t like the sound of all the crazy people in your
neighborhood. Maybe you guys should get some guns or something? Maybe
not...might be more dangerous with them?
Dunno
...your
call.

Please, please, please update me as often as you can. I’ll
do the same. Okay, I have to go...your brother is staring at me. Oh, and he
says…hey.

Ciao,

Dani

Unsurprisingly, REI’s doors had been locked. Surprisingly,
none of the glass panes had been broken. I figured Survivors were either
moaning in their beds or still in the “let’s steal from grocery stores and
shopping malls” stage of the Apocalypse. Recreational equipment must not have
registered as a high priority.
People are idiots,
I thought caustically,
but then I smiled.
One woman’s forsaken water filter is another’s salvation!

“Everyone needs to pair up,” Jason directed from the
slightly raised platform in the entryway. When nobody moved he barked, “Now!”

Chris sidled up to me, and I watched Cece prowl across
the polished cement like a fox. Her eyes were locked on Jason. He didn’t notice
her approach, focused as he was on making sure everyone found a partner. When I
felt his attention linger on me, I ignored him, instead studying the small,
tanned beauty.

Reaching Jason, Cece beckoned, and he leaned down to let
her whisper in his ear. His lips parted at her words, and his eyes narrowed
with what looked like anticipation. I figured she must have suggested something
particularly scandalous.

When his eyes slid to mine, catching me staring, I hastily
scanned the rest of the store, pretending to assess its offerings. From the
heat in my cheeks, I knew I had blushed bright red.

After confirming that everyone had paired off, Jason
continued, “Alright, here’s the plan. Each of you needs to collect everything
you’d need if you were on your own. Except for Dani, you’ve all had survival
training—if you don’t know what you need, you’re a fucking idiot. Reconvene
here in one hour, and do
not
leave your partner alone.” As an
afterthought he added, “Keep your weapons ready. We don’t know who else might
be here.”

As he finished, my mind replayed his whispered exchange
with the skank.
What did she say to him?
Let’s do it in a fitting room? Or the bathroom? Or maybe behind the checkout
counter? Jason obviously hasn’t changed,
I thought bitterly.

The disgusting possibilities swirled through my head as
Chris and I found large hiking packs, sleeping bags and tents. The thoughts
receded as we filled our new packs with miniscule stoves and gas cans, water
filters, matches, lighters, handheld GPS equipment, knives, and whatever else
Chris deemed necessary for survival. When we couldn’t squeeze anything else
into the bags’ bulging pockets, we dropped them off in the entryway.

Grabbing a couple of large, waterproof sacks, we headed
to the clothing and shoe section.
Now this is more like it!

We had stuffed both huge bags to the brim and were
heading back to the entrance when a nearby rack of key chains fell over.

Laughing, Chris teased, “Wow…walk much?” We watched, waiting
for one of our companions to pop up looking amused or embarrassed. But nothing
happened.

Chris drew her handgun from her thigh holster and slipped
me a black-bladed combat knife.

I raised my eyebrows in a silent question.
What the hell am I supposed to do with this?

Ignoring my expression, Chris held her index finger up to
her lips and motioned for me to follow. A rustle and jingle led us to the man
tangled in the fallen merchandise. He was small and stinky, wearing a
forest-green t-shirt with the store’s logo.

“Don’t hurt me. I’m not here. Don’t hurt me. I’m not
here,” he repeated over and over. I half expected him to start scuttling
around, hissing about his
Precious
.

“Are you okay?” I asked, slipping in front of Chris to
crouch down near the terrified man. I was careful to keep the wicked-looking
knife hidden behind my back, worried it would scare him further. He was so
pathetic, yanking every compassionate string in my body.

He stopped talking.

Encouraged, I reassured him, “We won’t hurt you.” But when
I reached out to help untangle his ankle, he flinched.

He scooted himself and the clanking rack back, and
resumed his earlier mantra. “Don’t hurt me. I’m not here. Don’t hurt me. I’m
not here…”

Chris hoisted me up by my arm and pulled me away from the
clearly unstable man. “We can’t do anything for him,” she told me gently.

“But—”

“No, hon, I’m sorry. Something’s broken in him that can’t
be fixed.”

Ashamed at how quickly I agreed, I followed her back to
the store’s entrance, dragging my sack of clothes and shoes behind me.

Date: December 14, 9:00 PM

From: Danielle O’Connor

To: Zoe Cartwright

Subject: Longview, WA

Zo,

So, I can’t remember if I told you this already, but we’re
stopping several places along the way to BB. I don’t know why we can’t just
drop people off and continue on home. This is ridiculous. I need to get down
there to check on Grams and your dad. Oh, don’t worry; I’ve argued plenty with
Jason about this. I didn’t win.

For everyone in the group, we’re devoting one full day to searching
their chosen stop for survivors. Jason told me this was non-negotiable. He can
be such an ass.

Anyway, we’re currently in Longview, WA, which is only a few
hours south of Seattle. We’ve traveled really far, huh? Yeah, I totally just
rolled my eyes. We’re here for Joey, BTW. He’s one of those people who would
make a perfect thief or assassin because he is just so unremarkable. Anyway,
he’s hoping to find I-don’t-know-who here. We’re spending all of tomorrow
searching.

Our chosen Longview “home” is a gigantic riverfront house
that looks more suited to a stormy ocean bluff in New England than a West Coast
river. Internet and power are a few of its prized offerings. Also, the house is
large enough that only a few people (there are 14 of us) have to share rooms,
like me and Chris. The master bedroom, however, remains unoccupied. A couple of
the guys found the house’s previous occupants in their king-sized bed, bloated
and oozing. I guess it was pretty gross (like spontaneous vomit gross). If I
hadn’t been sleeping in a building full of dead people for the past week, I’d
be bothered by the idea of sharing a roof with the deceased Mr. and Mrs.
Whoever. But I’m not. I’m just tired.