Out Of The Ashes (The Ending Series, #3) (23 page)

“Your mom’s just
like you, able to increase, decrease, or block other people’s Abilities, but
Herodson only knows about the boosting part. She was never under his mind
control. The only control he ever had over her was you…you and Zo and your Dad.
And then she fell in love with him.” I blinked, and a tear snuck out from between
my lashes. I swiped it away before it could start its journey down my cheek and
took another deep breath. “There’s something you should see,” I said, walking
past him. When I didn’t hear footsteps behind me, I paused and looked back at
Jason.

He was standing
exactly where he’d been for the last few minutes, exactly
as
he’d been.

“It’s from your
mom—a letter.”

His head snapped
around, his eyes seeking mine, eagerness and terror making them too bright, too
wide.

“Come on,” I
said, continuing back toward camp. It wasn’t immediate, but I finally heard
Jason’s footsteps behind me and exhaled in relief. If he was following me, it
meant he believed me. It meant there was hope that he could accept this…and
possibly
not
hate me for all eternity.

We walked in silence,
Jason always a few steps behind me. When we reached our tent, I quickly dug
through my saddlebags until I found the manila envelope containing the letters
and documents from Dr. Wesley. I fished out the smaller envelope with “Jason
and Zoe” written on its face in Dr. Wesley’s elegant but barely legible
handwriting. Inside, it contained a letter from a mother to her children…and
the confession of a mass murderer.

“Here,” I said,
handing the sealed envelope to Jason. “I haven’t read it, so I don’t know how
much she explains.”

Jason sat
carefully on his sleeping bag. His face was washed out, and his hands were
shaking as he flipped the envelope over to look at the unbroken seal. He peered
up at me, his eyes unfocused. “Zoe?”

“She hasn’t seen
it. She doesn’t actually know about the letter—not that it would do her much
good as she is right now.” I shrugged uncomfortably. “But, um, she
does
know about your mom.”

“What?” His gaze
sharpened. “How?”

“Dr. Wesley—your
mom—she’s the one who saved Zo from Clara and left her at the house for us to
find, as per Becca’s instructions.” I waved my hand weakly. “It’s all very
confusing…
everything
with Becca is confusing…”

Staring down at
the envelope, Jason said, “All her life, Zoe’s been searching for clues about
our mom, and now she knows…and she doesn’t even care.” He chuckled hollowly.
“It’s all such a fucking mess.”

Hysteria bubbled
up from my chest in the form of a laugh that turned into a desolate sob. I
dropped to my knees before Jason, taking one of his hands in both of mine. “I’m
so,
so
sorry, Jason. If I could spare you this…” I shook my head.
“You’re pissed. You
should
be pissed. I screwed up. I should have told
you sooner…when I first found out…I should have—but I didn’t want to tell you.
I
never
wanted you to know, because some things really are worse than
death. I thought…I don’t know. I guess I thought I could protect you from
that.” I laughed bitterly. “I can’t do much, but I thought I could do that…”

“I’m not pissed—not
at you.” Jason chuckled again, the sound devoid of all emotion. “Most of my
life, I was miserable because I thought she was dead. Then I found out about
the accident—that it was all crap—and I hated her for leaving us…for leaving
me
.
And now
this
?” He blinked slowly. “Now I wish she really had died in
that car accident.” For seconds, he said nothing, simply stared at the
envelope. “I can’t be mad at you, not when I know I’d have done the same thing
if our roles were reversed.”

I stared at him,
wide-eyed. “You don’t hate me?”

He shook his head
the barest amount.

My eyebrows rose.
“Do you—do you still love me?” My voice increased in pitch as I asked the
question.

Jason glanced up
at the roof of our tent. “If love were something that could be turned on and
off whenever we wanted…” He laughed softly, a sound absolutely devoid of humor.
“But it can’t.” He lowered his eyes, a spark of something flashing in their
desperate, blue depths. “I think my dad was proof of that.” Surprising me, hope
washed over his face. “Do you think my dad…that he might still be—”

“He’s gone,
Jason. Grams found him, remember?” I gave his hand a supportive squeeze as I
watched the hope fade away. It was such a fickle, fleeting thing, hope.

“Right.” He shook
his head, dispelling any lingering hope. “No, I know that. I know.”

“Well, um…”
Clearing my throat, I glanced down at the envelope in his hand. “Are you going
to open it?”

With trembling
hands, Jason unsealed the envelope and pulled out the tri-folded letter
.
He unfolded it, and I watched his eyes as he read, skimming
quickly from side to side, devouring his mom’s words. The letter was three
pages long, and it only took him a few minutes to read through it.

“Holy shit,” he
murmured when he reached the bottom of the third page. “Holy fucking shit.”

I tightened my
hold on his thigh. “I know…it’s a crazy story,” I said, shaking my head.

“No.” Jason
pointed to the second to last paragraph, and I started reading.

This is very important
—These Monitors may still be with you.
They would have had the gene therapy and already been familiar with their
Abilities by the time they were implanted into your lives. They would still
have fallen ill when infected by the Virus, but it would have been nothing more
than a bad case of the flu to them, as their genetic code would have already
been altered. It is possible that they don’t even know what they are. Herodson
has people like your father who can alter perception as well as memories; they
are, after all, the heart of the T-R program. Your Monitors could be sleeper
agents, programmed to carry out their mission and eliminate you only when
they’ve been triggered. If this is the case, those triggers
will
include
any sign that I’ve been in contact with you.
Be very careful about who you
share this letter with
.
Better
yet, share it with no one. Burn it.

“Holy shit…
eliminate
you,” I said, echoing Dr. Wesley’s words. If she was right, if her information
was trustworthy, then one or more of our companions could really be agents of
the General. Only Chris and Ky had been with Jason from the beginning, and only
Sarah had been with Zoe.
None of them can be…
that.
And why the hell
didn’t Dr. Wesley tell
me
about this?

I met Jason’s
eyes, the horror I felt mirrored in his. Chris and Ky were his two closest
friends. The idea that one of them could be working for the General, planted
near Jason for the sole purpose of executing him should the need arise, was
obviously killing him.

“We have to talk
to Zo and Gabe,” I said. “Right now.”

~~~~~

Zoe and Gabe were
sitting on one side of the rectangular Formica kitchen table inside the
farmhouse Jason and I had visited earlier. Someone had died in the bedroom, but
the five months that had passed had shifted the odor from putrid to merely
pungent, and closing the door made it tolerable. Jason was standing at the end
of the table, arms crossed over his broad chest and the letter from Dr. Wesley
clutched in fingers, and I was pacing back and forth along the side opposite
Zoe and Gabe. The manila envelope with the packet of documents and papers the
doctor had left with Zoe, along with her letter to me, was on the table in
front of Gabe.

“Why didn’t you
mention Wes’s little care package earlier?”
Gabe asked, tapping the manila envelope. “There might be
something in here that can help with…” His eyes flicked to and away from Zoe so
quickly that I wasn’t positive I hadn’t imagined it. “Things.”

“I know…I
should’ve shown all that stuff to you. But when Camille told me about how Dr.
Wesley was
actually
in love with Herodson—”

Gabe’s eyebrows
shot upward. “What? Wes despises him, I assure you.”

I shook my head.
“But she doesn’t, not really. Before Camille was turned into a Re-gen, she
overheard Dr. Wesley telling someone that she couldn’t leave the Colony because
she wouldn’t abandon him…because she
loved
him.”

Gabe took a deep,
even breath. “And did Camille happen to mention whether Wes stated Gregory
Herodson, specifically, as the recipient of her love?”

I blinked several
times, searching my memory. “Um…no. She just said ‘him.’”

Gabe’s answering
smile wasn’t overly kind. “And you just leapt to the conclusion that she was
talking about Herodson.” He shook his head. “You must truly despise her.”

“Of course I do,”
I snapped. “She killed
everyone
. God, it’s like you’re suffering from
Stockholm syndrome or something.” I pointed to Jason, and then to Zoe. “Even
if
she created the Virus just to save them”—I glanced at my boyfriend and amnesiac
best friend—“no offense, she still did it. She still killed billions of
people.” I skewered Gabe with a raging glare. “That’s not something you do that
deserves forgiveness or pity. There’s no repentance for that.”

Gabe blinked
slowly. “She’s not the enemy, Dani.”

“Yes. She is.”

“She was talking
about her son.”

“What?” Jason,
Zoe, and I said in unison. Both Zoe and I glanced at Jason, who frowned and
shook his head.

“Peter,” Gabe
said. “His name is Peter, and Herodson is his father.”

Crickets filled
the room. Or rather, the absence of crickets. I was pretty sure we were all
holding our breath.

My cheeks flamed
and shame filled me. I’d assumed wrong and put us all in danger, and now I felt
like the biggest moron in the world.

Jason cleared his
throat. “As disturbing as that is, it’s not the most important thing at the
moment. Can we get on with this?”

Right…the
letter.
“Yeah, of
course.”

Uncrossing his
arms, Jason raised the letter and started to read.

Dear Jason and Zoe,

I wish I didn’t have to write these words
to you. I wish things were different. Some of the things I’ve done…I wish I
hadn’t, but I didn’t have a choice. Now we all must live with the fallout.

If you’re reading this, it means Dani
decided you should know the truth. I can’t say I agree with her decision, but I
also can’t say that I haven’t yearned for this day since I left both of you and
your father. Whatever else you glean from this letter, know this: I love you. I
always have, and I always will.

Over two decades ago, Gregory Herodson,
who you know as General Herodson through Dani and Gabriel, threatened both of
your lives. If I hadn’t left you to join him, hadn’t created a virus that would
spread the gene therapy like wildfire, and hadn’t helped Gregory begin his
“Great Transformation,” then you would have been killed. Please don’t fool
yourselves; I knew exactly what would happen once the Virus was unleashed on
the general population. I knew that those infected would either die or go
through a genetic mutation that would leave them forever altered, for better,
or—in the case of most people—for worse. I knew all of this, and I created it
anyway.

I’m not asking for your forgiveness or
even for your understanding. I’m fully aware that I deserve neither. It is
reward enough to know that both of you are still alive. Nothing is more
important than family. Please don’t blame yourselves. This was my decision, and
the blame must fall on my shoulders. I accept it, even welcome it.

Now, I have consulted with RV-01, and she
has advised me in what I must tell you if you’re both to continue to survive.
According to her, whether or not you read this letter is essentially a fork in
the road—the future will be drastically different if you don’t read it than if
you do. I just wish she’d told me which is the better path to take. But she
didn’t. What she did tell me is this—it’s imperative that I explain the effects
the gene therapy has on our ability to procreate. I don’t know why this
knowledge is so important, but according to her, it’s a matter of life or
death.

One of the side effects of the gene
therapy is that the gametes (eggs and sperm) of the survivors will be unstable
after the initial mutation. The time it takes for them to stabilize is
different for everyone—some never stabilize, and some stabilize in around three
years, at which point the survivor can reproduce. When genetic stability has
been reached and procreation is once again possible, gestation will occur at an
accelerated rate.
Gregory has had me experimenting with treatments to speed up the
stabilization process, though I’ve yet to be successful. You will find a
summary of the data I’ve collected so far enclosed with this letter—these documents
have “Project Eden” on the header. Please give them to Gabriel, as he will
understand them best.