Into The Fire (The Ending Series) (40 page)

33

ZOE

MARCH
22, 1AE

I was standing—no, I was on my knees. They were damp, I was
cold, and my body felt lethargic. My mind was a jumbled mess of partially
coherent thoughts and pain…a searing pain centered in my brain and radiating to
the base of my skull. I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t, and uneasiness
replaced my grogginess.

Where am I?                        

I heard the rustling of leaves and felt a slight breeze on
my cheeks.
I’m outside.
I heard the leaves again.
Footsteps?

When the sound stopped, I could feel the warmth of someone
near me. My fingers twitched at my sides, yet I couldn’t lift my hands or
ball up my fists.
Why can’t I move?

I vaguely recalled trying to help someone, hurrying to get
somewhere to help… “Dani,” I squeaked.

It felt like I was teetering on the edge of something, about
to plummet into a void. Yes, it was a fissure between something full and
chaotic and something foreign and desolate. There were memories and images in
it, muddled with blackness.

“Dani,” I breathed again as an emptiness swelled inside me.
I felt like my soul was being sucked from my body.

“Guess again,” a familiar, sickly saccharine voice cooed
near my ear.

Clara.

Hysteria crept over me. “Jake,” I whispered. I wished he was
nearby, but I knew he wasn’t.
What have I done?
The muscles in my
arms and legs clenched, and all I wanted to do was sleep…and cry.
What’s
happening to me? The voice…the images…she implanted them. She manipulated my
mind…just like she did with Tanya.
A whimper escaped from my throat.

The pain in my head worsened, and the hot tears that rolled
down my cheeks felt like liquid fire against my cold skin. “Clara…please,”
I whispered, begging for relief from the surmounting pain.

“I don’t think so, Zoe,” she said, and I could hear the
smile on her lips. “I finally have you all to myself.” She began humming.

I felt more tears spill down my cheeks, followed by a dull
pulse of sadness and fear.
But why am I sad?
I suddenly couldn’t
remember.
Chilled fingertips brushed my temples tenderly, and I couldn’t
recall why I’d been scared in the first place.
Why am I crying?
My clenched
jaw relaxed, and an emptiness trickled into my mind. As the soft, angelic
humming continued lulling me into a rolling wave of sleep, I felt lighter…
than
what?
Lighter than I’d felt a moment before, I was sure. I didn’t know why,
and I didn’t care. Sleep was all I wanted.

A woman’s cold, hard tone pulled me back from the precipice
of darkness. “What the hell are you doing?”

Growing panic filled the void inside me. I strained to open
my eyes, but it was pointless.

The gentle hum ceased. “Dr. Wesley? How did you—”

“
What
are you doing?” the new woman—Dr. Wesley—enunciated
evenly. “You’re supposed to be in the interrogation room, working on the T-R
candidate. I don’t recall the General giving you leave.”

“I…” The other woman sounded nervous as she struggled to
find the words.

Slowly, my eyelids began to peel open. I could just make out
the blur of the two women’s outlines. The one who was standing further away was
wearing a white lab coat.
That must be Dr. Wesley.
The other woman was
standing beside me, dressed in something so dark she seemed almost hidden in
the shadows.

“Get away from her,” the doctor ordered, her eyes narrowing
on the petite blonde before veering to me with what looked like concern.

Do I know these women?
I thought I should, but the
more I tried to recall them, the more severe the shooting pain in my head
became. My hands flew to my temples, and I doubled over in pain.

The blonde turned to me, her sharp inhale audible even through
my own cringing and gasping.

“How are you doing that, Zoe?” She bent down to me, twined
her fingers around my braided hair, and yanked my head back.
Why is she
doing this? Why is she hurting me?
“How are you fighting my Ability? I
swear to fucking God, if you—”

“Get your hands off her!” Dr. Wesley demanded.

“You!” the blonde woman screamed. “You don’t get to tell me
what to do. I don’t care who you are. She’s mine!”

“I’m warning you, Clara. Get your fucking hands off my
daughter or I’ll—”

Her daughter? Me?
My eyes landed on the doctor in
time to see her swing a large, gnarled branch at the blonde’s—Clara’s—head.

When Clara fell to the ground, the invisible fingers digging
into my brain retreated completely and the remnants of fog in my head dissipated.
Although shaken, my mind felt amazingly clear.

“Zoe, are you okay?” Dr. Wesley crouched down beside me, her
fingers tentatively reaching for my face and her eyes filled with an emotion I didn’t
understand.

She’s my mom?
Rubbing the back of my scalp, I nodded,
wondering how the hell I’d gotten myself in my current situation to begin with.
What
is
the situation?

Out of nowhere, a fist-sized rock grazed the side of the
doctor’s head, making her stumble to the ground.

“Your
daughter
?” Clara laughed demonically from
beside a tree trunk. She dry-washed her hands and sighed. “Interesting. And how
did you know I was out here? I know the General rarely lets you off your leash.”

The doctor rubbed the side of her head, momentarily stunned,
and I tried to stand.

Clara’s interest shifted to me. “And what did you do? Why
isn’t my Ability working anymore!” she screamed in frustration. “What the
hell
is going on!”

“RV-one,” the doctor grunted with what appeared to be a
smirk on her face as she staggered to her feet. “RV-one told me where you’d be;
she wanted me to protect Zoe.”

“Why would she care about Zoe?”

“Well, I suppose that has to do with who her brother is. She
said you might find his identity interesting.”

Sneering, Clara crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “I can
barely contain my curiosity,” she said snidely. “Please, Dr. Wesley, tell me.
Who is her brother?”

“His name is Jake.”

I watched the color drain from Clara’s face.
RV-one?
Jake?
My heart was thundering in my chest.
Why can’t I remember
anything?

“Jake?” The shrill pitch in Clara’s voice was gone, replaced
with astonishment.

Taking advantage of Clara’s momentary surprise, the doctor rounded
on her, backhanding her across the face and sending Clara sprawling to the
ground. As the doctor reached for the branch again, Clara grabbed on to the
tail of her lab coat and yanked her down to the ground beside her.

Clara did this to me. Whatever’s wrong with me, she did
it. Dr. Wesley tried to save me. She called me her daughter.
Before I
realized what I was doing, I picked up the branch the doctor had been reaching
for and swung it at Clara’s head with all my might.

Clara’s body went limp as she fell to the ground, but she’d
done that once before and gotten right back up again. My body trembled with a
surprising surge of adrenaline, and I hit her in the head again.

Dr. Wesley motioned for me to stop and crouched down to check
Clara’s neck for a pulse. “She’s dead.” When she stood, her eyes were on me and
filled with sorrow.

Why is she sad? Shouldn’t she be relieved? Happy, even?

“Thank you,” she said quietly, tucking a loose strand of
hair behind her ear.

I nodded, still shaking. “Thank
you
.” I brought my
hands up to my face to study them. “I’m—I’m not sure what would’ve happened if
you hadn’t shown up.” I looked down at Clara. “I don’t even know who she is or
what she was doing to me.” Panic began to resurface as the adrenaline running
through my veins reduced to a simmer. “I don’t—I don’t even know who
I
am.
I don’t—”

The doctor idly stroked the edge of a rolled up manila
envelope that stuck out of her coat pocket before she took a hesitant step
closer to me, her own chest still heaving. A million unspoken thoughts seemed
to dance in her eyes.

“I don’t understand why I can’t remember anything. Where am
I? What—”

“Shhh,” the doctor murmured, and her warm, trembling hand
cupped the side of my face. “They’ll find you. You’ll be safe.” She stroked my
cheek with welcomed affection, and I wondered if we should hug, especially if
she was, in fact, my mother. But I was glad we didn’t. It didn’t feel right to
hug a complete stranger.

The doctor blinked, and a few tears escaped from the corners
of her bright blue eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here fast enough. I couldn’t
get away from—I’m so sorry, Zoe.”

34

MASE

MARCH
23, 1AE

Camille’s tiny, fragile hand was limp in Mase’s grasp. He
was kneeling on the carpet at the side of the bed where Camille lay, watching
her. Like her hand, the rest of her was limp. Mase studied Camille’s angelic
face, looking for any sign that she was still in there. But she didn’t twitch,
didn’t moan, didn’t sigh; she just lay there, still as the dead.

Camille
had
been dead, but she wasn’t anymore.
Because of Chris and Harper. It was a debt Mase wouldn’t soon forget, and it
wasn’t the only one. The man named Jason had guided them all to an enormous
house on the outskirts of a settlement—a city, Mase remembered from his lessons—that
dwarfed the Colony. They had yet to reach the wild lands Dani had spoken of,
the lands untouched by man’s structures. Mase wondered what it would be like,
and he feared he wouldn’t be able to take care of Camille in such an
unpredictable place.

“Trust her. You must promise me, Giant. You will listen
to her and trust her.”

Mase didn’t understand the words Camille had whispered to
him before she’d had her seizure. She already knew Mase trusted Dani and that
he would listen to her. It didn’t make sense to him.

He heard quiet footsteps and looked up to see RV-01 enter
the bedroom. She stopped on the other side of the bed, hesitating for a few
seconds before gingerly sitting on the edge.

“Will she make it?” Mase asked, surprised by the hoarseness
in his voice. “Will she come back to me?” RV-01 had been the most powerful of
Father’s seers. If anyone knew Camille’s fate, it was her.

RV-01 studied Camille for several long minutes before
finally meeting Mase’s eyes. “She will. But she will not be exactly as you know
her. She will be both what she was before and what she has become. And she will
be neither.”

Mase shook his head and stroked his thumb across the back of
Camille’s hand. “I don’t understand.”

“You will.”

“RV-one—”

“Please, call me Becca.”

Mase felt himself frowning. RV-01—Becca—had been made into a
Re-gen before either him or Camille, and to his eyes, she’d always acted like a
model Re-gen. She’d never shown any signs of the differences he and Camille
displayed. Was she changing? Would she start having the memory-dreams too? Was
she reverting back to who she once was?

“Becca,” Mase said, enjoying the rebellious feel of using a
normal’s name for another Re-gen. “Why did you leave with us?”

“I started the rebellion. I could not stay.”

“What?” Mase asked, sounding as shocked as he felt.

“It had to be,” she answered. “Our options were Re-gen
rebellion or death to us all. We’d shown ourselves to no longer be suitably
reliable to Father. Since he cannot control us with his Ability, losing his
conditioned control meant we had to be eliminated. He would have replaced us
with T-Rs in time.”

“Will any of our brothers and sisters survive?”

Becca shrugged, averting her gaze. “Time does not share all
of its secrets with me.”

Mase was pretty sure that meant she didn’t know. But…what if
she was lying? What if she was really there to track Mase, Dani, and the other
rebels for Father? Mase felt a sudden pang of fear and reached across the bed
to capture Becca’s neck. “How do I know you’re telling the truth? You’re his
favorite. How do I know you’re not here on his orders?”

“I…told…Camille…how…to…escape…the…interrogation…room…before,”
she managed to gasp.

Mase relaxed his grip, and Becca collapsed over Camille.

“Trust her. You must promise me, Giant. You will listen
to her and trust her.”
Mase wondered if it was possible that Camille had
been talking about Becca, not Dani. “Dani’s friend is missing. Do you know
where she is?” Mase asked, testing Becca’s loyalty.

Before Becca could answer, there was muffled shouting and a
loud crash from somewhere else in the house. It sounded like it had come from
downstairs.

Becca sprang up from the bed and sped out of the room, and Mase
followed close behind her. It didn’t take them long to find the source of the
commotion. Side by side, they froze on the bottom stair.

Jason had Dr. McLaughlin pinned against the front door a few
yards beyond the foot of the stairs. Jake, a man Mase hadn’t heard speak a
single word since they’d arrived at the house, was trying to pull Jason off the
doctor before he could strangle him to death. Jake wasn’t being very
successful.

“Mase!” Dani called from a doorway to another room. “Please,
help Jake!” It was all she said before stepping into the battle zone.

35

DANI

MARCH
23, 1AE

“Mase! Please, help Jake!” I called, never taking my eyes
from the terrifying scene playing out in the entryway. I rushed over to the
brawling men, glass from a broken mirror crunching under my boots.

Luckily, Mase didn’t hesitate in following my request.
Together, he and Jake pulled Jason off Gabe and held him back by the arms and
shoulders. Jason was struggling and glaring at Gabe, but I thought I spotted a
self-satisfied glint in his eyes.

Gabe’s back was against the front door, and he appeared remarkably
unscathed aside from the ring of raw, red skin circling his neck. I wondered if
he’d said or done something to goad Jason, though I didn’t think it was
strictly necessary; Jason was, well, Jason. He was also stronger and fifty
times the fighter. Gabe didn’t stand a chance against him—ever.

I stalked to Jason and hissed, “What the hell are you doing?
Zoe’s out there, somewhere, and you’re wasting time picking fights?” I wanted
to scream at him, to hit him, to do something to relieve my mounting anxiety.

Jason’s eyes were filled with heat as he glared at me, and
not the good kind. “He almost got you killed,” he ground out through clenched
teeth. His saliva was tinged pink.
Maybe Gabe’s not as helpless as I
thought…

I stepped closer until I had to tilt my head back to look
him in the eyes. I returned his glare. “He also saved my life…several times.”

The bandage crossing Jason’s face bunched along with his
features as his eyes traced every visible bruise and cut marring my skin.
Finally, he lowered his eyes, and I watched the tension leave him.

“Please let him go,” I told Mase and Jake. When they did,
reluctantly, I reached for Jason’s hand and led him to the stairs.

“Jake, I—” Gabe started to say, but his words cut off with a
loud smack, followed by a thunk.

Jason and I spun mid-step. I wasn’t surprised by what I saw.
Not much surprised me anymore. Gabe’s back was still against the door, but he
was no longer standing. He was slumped on the floor, his head lolling forward.
A few feet away stood Jake, shaking out his hand and scowling.

Ignoring the drama, Jason and I turned and resumed our walk
up the stairs. Only once we were enclosed in an unoccupied bedroom did either
of us speak.

“Dani, I—” Jason said as he strode away from me, toward a
wide window. He looked out at sprawling grounds, the scattered lodgepole pines
and vast expanse of scraggly grass covering the rugged landscape. The house was
on a big enough lot at the western edge of Colorado Springs, about ten miles
west of the Colony, and deep enough in the foothills of the Rockies that we
were fairly well hidden from prying eyes, at least for a little while. I just
hoped we would be safe long enough to find Zoe and
finally
get the hell
away from the Colony.

“Don’t apologize, please.” I sat on the bed, sinking into
the fluffy down comforter. An elaborately carved dresser and matching
nightstand fashioned from some dark wood were the only other pieces of
furniture in the room. Sitting on the foot of the bed, I stared at the dresser.
“He did deserve to be knocked around a bit, but…he doesn’t deserve to die.”

For a long time, Jason said nothing. He just held a floral
brocade curtain out of the way and stared out the window. “He has feelings for
you.”

“Sanchez has feelings for you,” I countered. It had been a
guess, but from the way his head hung as soon as I said it, I knew I’d guessed
right.

Jason turned to face me, his eyes burning with hatred, but
not for me. “He fucking took you away from me.”

“Yes,” I said, standing. With a sigh, I joined him at the
window. “But I didn’t choose to go with him, and I came back to
you
.”

Raising his hand to my face, Jason almost touched me. His
fingertips hovered millimeters from the bruised, swollen flesh of my cheek. I
hadn’t had the courage to look in a mirror yet, but I knew it was bad, if only
from the way everyone winced when they looked at me.

“The man who did this will die,” he promised softly.

I smiled, and promptly winced at the dull ache. Harper had
given me some pain meds, but they didn’t mask it completely. “It was a woman,
actually—Clara. The same one who poisoned Zoe. She’s the one they use to wipe
memories, to make T-Rs,” I told him, knowing he would recall the information
I’d passed on early the previous morning.

Jason’s gaze sharpened, his calculating intelligence showing
through. “Are there others like her?”

“I think so.”

“Is she still alive?”

I nodded and was suddenly sick of thinking about Clara,
General Herodson, and the Colony. I was beyond frustrated that I couldn’t use
my Ability to search for Zoe, I pretty much hated myself for the role my escape
played in her disappearance and Camille’s comatose state, and I was on the
verge of diving into an endless ocean of hysteria. I needed a distraction. I’d
been away from Jason for a week, and for a few stolen moments, I could allow
myself to focus only on him.

“Take it off?” I asked, brushing the edge of his bandage
where it reached his jawline. I’d known about the injury, but I hadn’t expected
the dressing to be so large. The bandage crossed his face, covering an
inch-wide strip from hairline to jaw.
How bad is it?
He and Zoe had
definitely played it down. I needed to see how seriously he’d been injured.

He flinched, turning away so I only saw the unmarred side of
his face and the corner of the gauze and tape on his forehead.
Does he think
I’ll be disgusted?
I shook my head.
He can be such an idiot sometimes.

“Come on,” I said, reaching up to trace my nails along his
neck. Goose bumps rose beneath my fingertips. “I showed you mine”—I pointed to
my battered face and kept my words light, flirty—“so you have to show me
yours.”

The hint of a dimple shadowed his cheek, and Jason murmured,
“Tease.”

“Only for a little while. Once I’m healed enough…”

The full dimple made an appearance as Jason’s delicious,
sultry grin curved up one side of his lips. When he met my gaze, his eyes were
again filled with heat—this time, the good kind.

I took his mood change as assent and again raised my hand to
his face, tracing the bottom outline of the bandage. I hadn’t known undressing
a wound could be sensual, but the heat in his eyes flared. As I slowly peeled
the bandage away, the heat dampened, turning to worry. My eyes flicked to
Jason’s periodically, letting him see the concern and affection I felt for him.

Finally, I reached his hairline and uncovered the last of
his wound. I set the tape and gauze on the windowsill and studied his face,
committing the changes to memory. His face, however it looked, was the one I
loved.

Raising my fingers to his forehead, I hesitated before
touching him. “Does it hurt?”

He shrugged, never looking away from me. Lightly, I touched
my fingertips to the skin above the top of the wound and began tracing around
the edges. It was red and a little puffy, and the stitches had yet to be
removed.

Jason’s breath caught.

I jerked my fingers away. “Did that hurt? Did I hurt you?”

“No.” His voice was rough and deeper than usual. “It’s just
a little sensitive.” He reached for my hand and raised it back up to his forehead.
“Please, keep going,” he said, and I saw in his eyes that he needed me to do
it, to show him that his altered appearance didn’t disgust me.

I started where I had before, just above the place where the
red, angry gash began about halfway between his right eyebrow and hairline.
Using my fingertips, I traced the skin around it as lightly as possible as it
angled toward his nose, turned back to slash over his eyebrow, just barely
missing the inner corner of his eye, and cut down his cheek, from cheekbone to
jaw, almost touching the edge of his mouth.

Standing on tiptoes, I brushed my lips against his in a
gentle, wordless claiming. Jason didn’t deepen the kiss, didn’t pick me up and
ravish me against a wall, but he did smile. His lips curved against mine.

“Red…” he breathed.                                                 

Dropping my heels back to the floor, I sighed. “Lay down
with me?” I moved to the bed and scooted into the center, waiting.

Jason joined me instantly, lying on his back and letting me
figure out what position was most comfortable for me to snuggle against him.
When I finally settled on my back with my head resting on his outstretched arm,
he turned his head to the side and just watched me.

I looked into his sapphire-blue eyes…
so much like Zo’s
eyes.

“You’re thinking about her, about Zoe, aren’t you?”

My mouth fell open. “How’d you know?” I narrowed my eyes.
“You haven’t developed some new mind-reading Ability, have you?” I was only
half joking. The results of such a development could be disastrous.
If he finds
out about his mom…

A soft chuckle escaped from his throat. “No, but I can read
your face.” He frowned, and again, almost touched the side Clara had beaten.
“Even like this,” he added quietly.

“Oh.” I studied his expression, trying to read
him
. “I
just wish my stupid telepathy was working. I wish I could find her.” I took a
deep breath, holding back tears. “It’s just so unfair. Everything is so
ridiculously unfair.”

“I know,” Jason said, bending down to press the gentlest of
kisses against my forehead. “Sanchez will keep searching for her. She’s not as
good as you with the telepathic radar thing, but…” He frowned, the expression
pulling on the lower portion of his wound. “She’s better than nothing.”

“I know,” I said, offering him a small smile.

“Rest now, Red. Wearing yourself out won’t do Zoe any good.”

I sighed and closed my eyes. “I missed you.”

I started awake, cringing as I jostled my broken forearm.
Jason’s arm was still beneath my head, but he’d propped himself up partially
with his other elbow and was staring at the bedroom door. Which someone was
gently knocking on.

“Jason? Wha—”

“Shh…” he murmured, easing his arm out from under me. “I’ll
take care of it.” He stood, stretched, and strode over to the door. “What?” he
asked as he jerked the door open a few inches, irritation evident in his voice.

I could hear Mase, but he was speaking too quietly for me to
make out his words.

“She’s resting,” Jason said.

I sat up and groaned. “No, no, I’m up. What’s going on?”

Looking over his shoulder at me, Jason said, “Mase says he
needs to talk to you. Becca’s with him.”

I ran the fingers of my good hand through my tangled curls
and frowned. Yes, I was injured, but I didn’t need to be treated like I was
made of glass. “Just let him in, Jason.”

At least he didn’t argue.

Mase entered the room first, Becca trailing right behind
him. They both stopped at the foot of the bed, neither speaking.

“Uh…so, what’s up?” I asked, feeling awkward.

Mase nudged the other Re-gen, who was staring at me with a
curious smile. For several long seconds, nobody said anything. And then Becca
opened her mouth.

“I had a vision. I saw where Zoe is. It is not far from
here.”

“Wait—what?” I asked, scooting to the edge of the bed as
quickly as I could. Which wasn’t very quickly.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that to begin with?” Jason
snapped. Even as irritated as he was, he still hurried to the side of the bed
to help me to my feet.

“Is she okay?” I asked before they could respond to him.

“She is somewhat changed, but she is unharmed,” Becca said.

“What do you mean,
changed
?” Jason’s voice dropped in
temperature to well below freezing.

“Her memory has been wiped. She has no idea who she is, and you
will definitely be strangers to her.”

“Oh my God…” But I managed to stop myself from freaking out
completely. I couldn’t afford to lose it—not right now. Finding her, making
sure she was safe and sound, and getting the hell away from the Colony was all
that mattered. I took a deep breath. “We need to go get her—”

With barely a glance at me, Jason turned away.

I squeezed his arm, holding him in place. “Wait. I think it
should just be me who goes to get her…with Chris and Sanchez. You boys can, you
know, hold down the fort.”

“No.”

Damn, he can be so stubborn!
I gritted my teeth.
“She’s more likely to be afraid of you or Jake. You’re big, scary men who she
doesn’t know…not anymore. I mean, c’mon Jason, we don’t want to traumatize her
more than she already has been.”

“She’ll get over it. I know my sister.”

“But that’s just it—” I was nearly shouting in exasperation.
“If what Becca says is true, she’s not our Zo anymore!”

Jason shook his head. “She may not remember who she is, but
she’s still my sister. Deep down, she’ll still be Zoe.” I wanted to believe
him, to agree with him, but even his own statement held a hint of uncertainty.

I glanced at the Re-gens, then back at Jason. “You don’t
know that,” I said, my voice small.

Turning back to me and leaning down, Jason pressed his lips
against mine. “C’mon. Let’s go get her.” He snagged my hand and led me to the
door, Mase and Becca close on our heels.

“Jason, I still don’t think—”

“I know,” he said over his shoulder. We were in the upstairs
hallway, heading for the stairs to the ground level. “But we’re all going.”

Single file, we led our horses through a gate in the fence
wrapping around the back of the house Becca led us to. Sanchez and Harper stayed
out front with their new companions, Tavis and Sam, keeping watch, while
Mase—holding Camille—Gabe, Becca, and Carlos settled themselves in the backyard
with the animals. Jack came into the house with me, along with Jason, Chris,
Jake, and Cooper. I led the way, Jack at my side and Chris and Cooper right
behind us. The ladies and dogs were taking point on Operation: Rescue Zoe. At
least I’d won
that
battle.