Into The Fire (The Ending Series) (4 page)

“But I didn’t know it was real. I thought she was losing her
mind.” He paused and looked down at his hands, picking idly at the callouses
that had formed on his palms. “Gabe—my best friend—was a contracted geneticist
at Peterson. He swore he could help her, that he could fix her.”

Jake continued, his natural reserve making it difficult to
speak openly about what was easily the worst night of his life. His words faded
to a steady hum in my ears as his memories of the events surrounding his
sister’s death played out in his head, drawing me deeper into his mind. His
remorse cloaked my own emotions, and I could feel the excruciating depth of his
emptiness, his crushing regret. Feeling Jake’s pain helped fuel my determination
to make sure Dani’s fate wouldn’t resemble Becca’s. Unbidden tears accumulated
in the corners of my eyes, and I blinked them away.

“Becca saw what the people at Peterson were going to do to
her, and she chose death instead.” Jake ran his fingers through his short, dark
brown hair.

With the exception of a hawk screeching somewhere in the
distance and the crackle of the dying fire, it was completely silent.

After a long moment, Sanchez said, “We should probably go or
we’ll run out of daylight before we get back.”

“He’s gone!” Chris called from behind me. I turned around to
see her jogging back from the stable. “Jason’s not in his tent and his horse is
gone.” She glanced out at the woods. “So is Jack.”

Carlos jumped up from his seat on the other side of the
fire. “He left?”

“I should’ve known,” I muttered. “He’s going to try and get
Dani…on his own. He going to get himself killed, and then Dani’s going to blame
herself for his death, just like she did with Cam.” Terror jolted through me,
and I stood and started pacing.
My brother is going to get himself killed.

Carlos hurried over to Chris. “We have to go after him. We
have to—”

“We can’t go after him,” she said sympathetically. “We don’t
know how much ground he’s covered or which route he took. We have no idea where
he is, and even if we do find him, he won’t come back with us.” She squeezed his
shoulder. “Jason knows how to take care of himself. We need to stick together,
and we need to focus on getting Dani back.” She turned her attention to
Sanchez. “I’ll stay here and wait for Jason in case he returns. Get to Cañon
City. Find out everything you possibly can about Peterson, and get your asses
back here.”

“I’ll finish getting the horses ready,” Carlos offered,
jogging toward the stable.

As I turned to follow him, Jake’s strong fingers entangled
with mine, giving me a momentary wash of comfort. I peered at him, a tired but
grateful smile spreading across my face, and he glanced toward Jason’s tent.
“He’ll be back,” he said, trying to reassure me.

No he won’t.
I knew how my brother was, but I nodded
without arguing and continued on to the stable.

Wings stood out among the group of grays, chestnuts, and
bays. I smiled. Of course Dani would ride the most vibrant paint horse I’d ever
seen. Wings’s colors were rich and pure and bold, like her owner. Taking a
slight detour, I stopped by a galvanized tub that held a few small apples and snatched
one before heading over to introduce myself to my new riding companion.

“She’s all ready for you,” Carlos said as he double-checked
the cinch around Wings’s belly.

I unwound her leather reins from the metal railing.
“Thanks.”

Carlos gave me a quick nod and started toward the barn, toward
Chris.

“You’re not coming with us?”

He shook his head. “I’m gonna wait with Chris.”

I shrugged and turned my attention back to Wings.
Thoughtfully, I looked into her watchful, pale blue eyes. They were inquiring
and cautious. “Hey, girl,” I whispered. I couldn’t communicate with animals
like Dani, so I was left to my own devices to win her favor. I placed my palm below
her velvety nose so she could smell my scent.

Wings’s nostrils flared as she studied me. Slowly, she lowered
her head to my palm. Her ears—one white, one coffee-brown—angled toward me, and
her head bobbed a little, almost like she was nodding with approval.

“I know I’m not Dani, but I like horses, too. I’ll take good
care of you for her,” I promised, stroking her chin and patting her thick,
mostly-white neck. I held out the apple and offered it to her in my flattened
palm. Eagerly, she reached for the treat with her lips, pulling it into her
mouth. When it was gone, she nudged me. Wings suddenly seemed excited to have
me as a riding partner, and I couldn’t help but grin at my small but very
important victory.

“Ready?” Jake asked, his deep voice interrupting me from my
celebratory moment.

“Yeah.” I smiled, stroking Wings’s sleek neck once more
before moving to her side and climbing up into the saddle with surprising
ease—I hadn’t been on a horse in years, but walking would take too long and
cars weren’t a viable option. Carlos had gauged the length of the stirrups
perfectly. I pulled back on the reins ever so slightly, backing the mare away
from the hitching post and positioning her toward the rest of the group.

“You’re pretty good at that,” Jake said enviously as he
struggled with the reddish-brown horse he was riding…or trying to ride.

Grinning, I observed his valiant attempt at horsemanship. I
was no expert, but I’d taken enough riding classes with Dani to have some
know-how. “Your reins are too tight,” I offered, stopping Wings beside him.
“Give him some slack and he’ll like you more.” I lifted mine to demonstrate.

“I need to give him an apple so he’ll like me more,” he
muttered, and my grin widened. Jake loosened the tension of the reins so the
horse could move his head in stride as he walked, and then his gaze met mine, a
playful glint in his eyes. A slight smile curved his lips. He opened his mouth
to say something but closed it again when Harper guided his horse up beside us.

“Let’s go,” he said, waving for us to follow him.

Still sitting atop our mounts, we paused in the cover
provided by two houses, grateful to have reached the outskirts of Cañon City. The
ride had taken just under an hour, but my butt was paying the price.

“Downtown’s a little ways that way,” Jake said, pointing to
the southeast through a ritzy suburban neighborhood that stretched out ahead. He
continued to speak, but I was distracted. I couldn’t tear my eyes from the
serrated, snow-covered peaks of the Rocky Mountains to the north and west of us.
I had been surrounded by their majesty for over a month, but the sight of them
still enthralled me. Colorado was untamed and beautiful—so different from the colonial
grace and sprawling greens I’d left behind in Salem.

Sighing, I threw my leg over Wings to dismount.

“What’re you doing, Baby Girl?” I glanced over my shoulder
to see Harper’s eyebrows raised in curiosity as my boots hit the ground with a
thud.

“Getting off my horse so whoever’s here doesn’t hear us clomping
in a mile away.” I walked Wings through a gate into a large, overgrown backyard.
She followed me happily, eyeing the tall, untended grass. I waited for everyone
else to follow suit. When I looked back at them expectantly, they dismounted from
their horses—some with more ease than others—and did the same.

We secured the horses and unloaded what supplies we needed before
heading toward downtown. After almost an hour of mostly silent slinking around,
ducking under windowsills and crouching behind delivery trucks, we spotted the
row of stone and brick buildings lining Main Street. It was easy to imagine the
city in its heyday, booming with miners and cowboys in the decades after the
gold rush.
But now, windows were shattered, neon graffiti colored century-old
brick walls, and cars were covered in dirt and grime, the only remnants of the
season’s final snow.

With the exception of our footsteps and hushed exchanges,
Cañon City was quiet. There were no barking dogs, no Crazies mumbling
incessantly, and no soldiers patrolling the streets.
This seems a little too
easy.
My gaze veered up to the rows of windows on the second floor of the
buildings, suddenly sinister and foreboding.
Where are all the Crazies?
That
was one thing we’d come to expect.

“Something’s not right,”
Sanchez said inside my head,
and I assumed she was speaking telepathically to the others as well. Even
though her Ability wasn’t as strong or multifaceted as Dani’s, it was still
useful.
“Where are the Crazies?”
she asked, echoing my thoughts.

“There are worse things than no Crazies,” I offered, not
wanting to give the others too much time to consider turning back.

My companions exchanged apprehensive glances before we
continued on to Main Street.

Staying true to our usual, cautious methods, Jake and I
paused in an open, brick alley between two buildings, waiting for Harper and
Sanchez to scout the nearby parking lots and shops. The cinderblock museum and
history center, the most promising place to search for useful information about
the Colony’s layout, was a few blocks further down the street.

A gust of wind whooshed through the empty, stinking alleyway.
The brisk air bit at my skin, and I shivered. My sweatshirt wasn’t cutting it,
especially since I’d stopped walking. Sunlight reflected off of a storefront
window ahead, and I squinted in the glare.
An antique shop was nestled
between a pool hall and bridal shop.

“Ready?” Jake asked, looking back at me. He nodded across
the street in the direction Harper and Sanchez had gone, but I was focused on
the figures in the antique shop’s display window. Sun-washed mannequins
posed—one wearing a 1950s floral-print, halter sundress, the other in faded
blue jeans and a vintage, olive-green bomber jacket. Its distressed leather
looked worn and soft and enticingly warm. It looked so comfortable, I was
practically salivating. I glanced up at the hand-painted sign:
Alice’s Attic
.

“Hey,” Jake nudged my shoulder with his. “What’s up?”

“I’m cold,” I said, glancing up and down the street. I
looked over at Harper and Sanchez, who were moving toward the antique shop. “Where
are we going?” I asked, happy to be moving closer to the shop that held the
jacket and my potential warmth, but confused to be headed to the right, away
from the museum.

“Pit stop,” Jake said, pointing to the sign that hung three
stores down from the antique shop.
Tommy’s Gun Exchange
,
read bold
red and orange letters
. Perfect.

Jake reached for my hand, entwining our fingers, and we
hurried across the street toward the others. Sanchez was already inside
Tommy’s
,
rifling through what remained of the store’s stock, while Harper waited just outside
the entrance, his sidearm drawn and aimed as he scanned up and down the street for
movement.

Once we reached Harper, I pointed my thumb over my shoulder
in the direction of
Alice’s Attic
and said, “I’m going to grab a jacket.”

Stopping a few steps inside the store, Jake glanced back at
me with an agitated smirk.

Harper chortled. “Why am I not surprised.”

I shrugged, equally annoyed with my inability to withstand
the cold, and flashed them both an innocent smile. “Sorry,” I mouthed.

“Jake,” Sanchez called from the back of the store. “Bring me
that bag, would ya?”

Harper looked from Jake to me. “I’ll go with her.” He nodded
toward
Alice’s.
“Come on, Baby Girl,” he said with a nudge and started
down the sidewalk, rifle drawn and each footstep light and calculated.

I glanced back at Jake, who nodded hesitantly. “Be quick
about it.”

Harper and I reached
Alice’s
in less than a minute. The
glass door was shattered, allowing us to slip into the shop easily.

I climbed up into the window display, unnerved by the antique
mannequins, whose eyes were too wide and animated and whose mouths were too
small for their heads. With a scrunched face, I unzipped the jacket, hoping the
sleeves would be long enough for me. Harper helped me maneuver the plastic
person’s arms, jerking it toward me a few times, clearly entertained each time
I recoiled. It was just…creepy.

Finally, I freed the jacket and shrugged into it. The moment
I zipped it up—the bottom snug around my waist and the stand-up collar closing
around my neck—I sighed. It fit perfectly. Unzipping the pockets, I stuck my
hands inside and posed. “How’s it look?”

Harpers eyebrows waggled in playful interest, and he flashed
me a killer smile. “Not too bad,” he said with a wink. “Alright, let’s get this
show on the road.”

He was making his way for the door just as the rumble of an
engine echoed down the street. We were hugging the shadows on the walls in
milliseconds, my body tense and my heartbeat quickened.

“Shit,” I hissed.
Harper reached for my hand and pulled
me closer to him.

The engine noise grew louder until a military Jeep sped past
and continued through downtown.

“Damn, they’re in a hurry.” Harper whispered. “Let’s move
before—”

The sound of roaring engines grew louder, and another truck passed
the antique store and stopped somewhere not too far down the street. Hearing
the engines turn off and the doors creak open, I prayed the newcomers weren’t
planning on hanging around. We shuffled closer to the door and watched five men
unload their things and settle into a store a few buildings up from us on the same
side of the road.
Shit.
They had duffel bags and thermoses of what I
assumed was coffee, or possibly booze, to warm their insides and help alleviate
their boredom.
So…not just a quick stop then.

With the soldiers out of sight, Harper and I hurried down
the street to the gun exchange. Once inside, the four of us fell into a heated
debate over whether we should stay and keep searching for helpful information
or go back to camp.