Out Of The Ashes (The Ending Series, #3) (39 page)

Grayson shook his
head. “That won’t be necessary. There are plenty of us,
and
we have more people waiting back in Tahoe who are hoping to
join us eventually.”

Bethany looked at
Carlos. “These are the others who were controlled by that woman?”

Carlos nodded.

“I see.” After a
long moment, Bethany addressed the rest of the Council. “I propose that we move
forward on the satellite settlement with Daniel and his people.”

“I second,” the
woman on her right said.

Bethany nodded to
her. “Any opposed?” she asked the rest of the Council.

Absolute silence
filled the room.

“Motion passed.”
Bethany looked at Lance, who started writing furiously. “Let the record show
that in exchange for…”

I tuned out
Bethany’s words as I realized that this was really happening. For the first
time in a long time, we might actually have a place that was ours…a place we
belonged. I almost couldn’t believe how perfectly everything was falling into
place.

It was almost too
perfect.

27

JAKE

MAY 24, 1AE

Bodega Bay, California

Gabe, Becca, and
Grayson chatted intently with Bethany as they left the conference room and
headed toward the reception. Carlos and Dani trailed out behind them, animated
and smiling with hope illuminating their eyes. Jake and Jason brought up the
rear, already planning what sort of projects they could start when they arrived
at their new settlement and discussing who would be best suited to do what.

“It would be
great to have a shop where we can tear apart any old machines and repurpose the
parts,” Jason said. “I have so many ideas. I could keep you busy for months.”
He shook his head and let out a small chuckle. “There’s going to be so much to
do…I can see it already.” When he glanced over his shoulder, he paused, and
Jake followed suit.

Zoe still sat at
the conference table, her gaze fixed on the sketched aerial map of New Bodega
that covered the expanse of the wall behind the Council’s table.

Jake turned to
Jason. “We’ll meet you up there.”

Jason nodded, his
features drawn in what Jake assumed was concern for his sister, but then he
disappeared into the hallway.

Scanning the
room, Jake realized that he and Zoe were the only two left.

Although he
wasn’t certain, he could imagine what was bothering her. Zoe was home, the place
that for her held the most memories, the most secrets, and therefore the most
heartache. While Jake found hope and comfort in the idea of having a home and
the endless possibilities that accompanied starting over, Zoe might not share
his sentiments, especially not when their new home would be so close to the one
she so desperately wanted to leave behind.

Knowing her well
enough to assume she needed a moment to collect her thoughts, Jake resisted the
urge to reach out to comfort her. Instead, he did one of the things he was best
at: he sat down and waited as she processed what she was feeling.

When the sun
began to set, darkening the room, and the muffled voices coming from upstairs
were all that filled the silence, Zoe finally faced him. Her eyes were burning
with more emotion than he’d seen in them since
his
Zoe had come back to
him a couple weeks ago.

“I’m not sure I
can do this,” she said quietly. “I thought I could—I mean, I wanted to—but…
so
close
…?”

Jake turned to
face her, needing Zoe to
feel
his resolve to stay, to
see
why he
wanted this to work, for them. “It’s a place to call home, Zoe.”

“I just—” She
lifted her shoulders, still shaking her head despondently. “It
was
home,
Jake, but being here….the dreams are already worse. What happens if I stay?”
She rose from her chair and began pacing. “What if I can’t get over it? What if
I lose myself like my dad did? You don’t know what he was like.” She continued
to pace. “He was surrounded by memories, and it ruined him. I don’t think I
could handle it…”

Jake rose and closed
the distance between them, reaching for her hand. “But the difference is you’re
not alone here,” he said. “You have all of us…you have Jason and me and Dani.”

Zoe seemed to
calm momentarily, before her shimmering, turquoise-colored eyes widened with
fear.
“What if the General
finds out we’re alive, especially now that my mom knows? What if he comes
looking for us? We’re sitting ducks if we stay here. It’ll be the first place
he looks.”

“We’re not
sitting ducks. Look at how far we’ve gotten, at what we can do now.” He
squeezed her hand in his. “You alone would know if he was coming a mile away.”
Indecision clouded her eyes, but Jake continued. “Zoe, I would never let
anything happen to you, you know that. I would die a thousand times—”

She stiffened.
“Why do you always have to do that?” Her voice was a hard whisper. For the
first time—with her eyes so radiant, so piercing—Jake thought he saw the
real
Zoe, angry and unrepentant, with unbridled loyalty and determination that drove
her to desperation.
“Why do
you always have to be the guy who saves everyone—saves me?”

He hadn’t
expected that reaction, but then again, he thought he probably should have.
“You’re upset with me because I want to protect you?”

With a quick,
despondent exhale, Zoe closed her eyes and licked her lips before her palm
gently cupped the side of his face. “Of course not.” She said it so quietly
that he barely heard her. “But do you think it’s easy to watch you suffer?” she
asked. “Burned beyond recognition or shot in the chest or stabbed in the back
or so weak after a transfusion you can barely stand? Is it knowing you’ll
eventually
heal supposed to make it easier?” She pulled away from him, a despairing
sadness threading her words. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to watch
that, to know you’d do anything for me? To see you so close to death that I can
feel
the abyss nearly swallowing you, the life draining from you, until
you’re almost nothing?”

Jake reached for
her as a tear, too stubborn to be held at bay, slid down her cheek.

He hadn’t ever
thought of it that way. He tried to imagine lying at Zoe’s bedside after she’d
been shot and left for dead. He remembered the sting of misery he’d felt when
Clara had poisoned her, when they’d all thought she was dead. He never wanted
to relive that moment again.

“Your
regeneration doesn’t make it easier, Jake, it makes it worse. Every single time
you get hurt, I ask myself, ‘Is this finally it? Will I lose him forever? How
will I be able to live with myself?’” She shook her head, and he could barely
stand the hurt that made her voice hollow and distant. “I
can’t
do that.
I can’t keep losing people—”

Her voice caught,
and without hesitation, Jake wrapped his arms around her. “You’re not going to
lose me, Zoe.”

Her head shook
against his chest. “This place is cursed,” she said. Slowly, Zoe wrapped her
arms around him, clutching the back of his thermal shirt so tightly he thought
she might never let go of him.

“I know it’s hard
to look beyond the past,” he said, his cheek resting against her forehead.
“But how can staying in a place that gives everyone so much hope be a bad
decision?
This will be good for us.”
Jake wanted her to see their future the way he did, to have something to look
forward to instead of constantly being chased by what was behind them. “Now we
can make this place
our
home,” he added.
“We can have our own
memories…don’t you want to live your own damn life?
”
His voice
was soft and beseeching.

As if she finally
felt
his desperation, she said, “Of course I do.”

Jake pulled her
away from him and gazed down at her. “Then let’s do this. You have your family
now, your
real
family—that’s what you’ve been waiting for. This is your
second chance…
our
chance.” He searched her eyes, the eyes he’d relied on
to tell him what she wouldn’t. He wanted everything they’d gone through to be
worth something. He brushed the longer strands of hair behind her ear and
dropped his voice to little more than a whisper. “I want you to smile because
you’re
actually
happy.” He quirked the corner of his mouth up. “As
obnoxious as it is sometimes, I want that determined glint in your eye back,
your feistiness back…”

Zoe quickly
glanced down, looking bashful, before gazing back up at him through her lashes.

“I love you,
Zoe.” Jake let his words, his heart, linger in the inch between them. “I want
you to be able to start over…with me.”

Licking her lips
again, Zoe nodded, her eyes open wide and gleaming. “I love you, too,” she
said, and rose to tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Okay.”

28

ZOE

MAY 25, 1AE

Bodega Bay, California

The sound of a low, rumbling voice woke me
from yet another haunting dream about my mom, and my eyes flew open. There was
a featherlight pressure against the right side of my face. I stared up at the
stars through the netted top of the tent, trying to steady my breath.

“Are you
alright?” Jake asked.

As my desperation
and fear subsided, I let out a deep breath.
“Did I wake anyone?” I whispered, turning my head to look at him.

“It doesn’t matter.” It was his nice way
of saying probably. He pulled me into his arms, somehow knowing it was exactly
what I needed.

“You’re becoming a pro at this,” I tried
to joke, but Jake said nothing. He simply stroked my exposed arm with his
thumb, and I rested my head on his chest.

“Why is this happening?” I whispered. “I
have the answers I wanted…I know the truth, but the dreams just keep changing.
Why won’t they go away?”

“Honestly,” Jake said, “it’s probably a
test for me.”

“Really? How so?” I craned my neck to look
up at his shadowed profile, barely able to see the hint of a smile.

“Because every night you have your dreams,
I get to pull you into my arms and hold you as close as I ever really get to,
until you fall asleep.”

I smiled. “And that’s a test because…”

“My self-control is diminishing.”

I could only chuckle softly. “You’re trying
to distract me…”

“Is it working?” He smiled against my ear.

Laughing, I tightened my hold around him,
unsure what the hell I would do if he weren’t there to comfort me. “Thank you,”
I whispered.

“For?”

I propped myself up on my elbows and gazed
down at the contours of his face. “For your patience…for always knowing what to
do and what to say to make me feel better…for being you.” I leaned down to
press a light kiss to his lips.

Jake reached his hand behind my head, his
thumb gently brushing the side of my face as he kissed me a little deeper. Feeling
the space between us charge to nearly unbearable levels, I knew what was to
come. Us. Together. Our first time making love since my memory had returned.

It hadn’t escaped my notice that, like
last time, he was holding me after a dream. But this time, it was different.
I
was the Zoe he wanted, the one who occupied his thoughts. And knowing
that
made me want him all the more. I wanted his strength and love and protection to
fill every fiber of my being, to fill up the emptiness that lingered in the
days since my memories had returned. We were finally…
right
.

I kissed him deeper still.

“Zoe.” The mere sound of him saying my
name made my heart swell to near bursting.
He pressed his lips against mine, giving me a slow, savoring
kiss so intoxicating I thought I might die from withdrawal if he ever stopped.

Jake’s warm hand found its way under the
hem of my t-shirt, his fingers light as they trailed up my back. His body was
hot, but mine was near burning. I needed air…needed to be rid of the confines
of my clothes. I pulled my shirt over my head, flinging it into the corner of
the tent.

“That was easier than I thought,” he
muttered, and I could feel the heat of his gaze as it raked over my body.

“Easy? So you planned this?” Jake
shrugged, and I leaned into him, my lips brushing against his ear as I said,
“You’d better be careful…or I’ll have to punish you…”

“Punish me?” I could picture his broad
grin curving his lips into a delectable smile. “You don’t have it in you.”

“No? Well, a lot’s changed in the last
month, and I have you right where I want you…”

Jake leaned his head back as much as his
pillow would allow and let out a deep laugh. His chest rumbled, and I could
feel the column of his throat move up and down as I pressed my lips against it.

“That was a bad move,” I informed him. I
nestled my face in the crook of his neck, lightly dragging the tip of my tongue
against the scruffy, sensitive skin beneath his jaw. He smelled of leather and
tasted of salt.

Groaning, Jake gripped my hips.

I tried to stifle a laugh as I
straightened. “See what happens when you don’t take me seriously?”

His hands splayed against my back, urging
me back down to him. The moment his mouth, his tongue, found my collarbone and
then the base of my throat, my eyes closed, and I let out a strangled whimper.
He kissed an invisible line down to each of my breasts, each graze of his lips
leaving behind an excruciatingly blissful throb that spiraled downward, making
me desperate to cry out.

His grip on my torso tightened, and he
rolled me over onto my back. I lost myself in a laugh of pure elation and to an
overwhelming desire for more. I craved it.
Needed
it. I wasn’t sure I
could live another moment without it. Without him.

Fleetingly, I thought of the others, of
the quietness that surrounded us, but then I realized my pants were gone,
replaced by his hot, solid body on top of mine. By his insistent hands. By his
devouring lips. And all else was completely forgotten.

~~~~~

After taking Shadow for a long
stroll around the ranch, trying to come to terms with our decision to stay so
close to home, I opened the pasture gate and led him through to graze with the
other content horses.
Unhooking his halter, I
draped it over my shoulder.

“Thanks for being such a good
boy,” I said softly and brushed his scraggly, black forelock from his eyes. I
would’ve trimmed it for him, but according to Dani, he preferred that I didn’t.
I gave Shadow’s nose a gentle stroke with the back of my curled finger and
patted the side of neck before pushing him away. He ambled toward Arrow and
Brutus, gave them a little nicker, and lowered his head to the ground for a
late morning snack.

It was our last day at Riders’
Ranch, and I figured the horses might as well enjoy their final meal in the
lush pasture before we headed for our new home in Petaluma. We’d never seen the
farm, and aside from knowing it was big enough for all of us, we didn’t really
know what to expect.

Leaving the horses to their
grazing, I walked back to the gate and closed it behind me.

Squeaking hinges and a hollow bang
startled me, and I craned my neck in time to see Sarah storm out of the ranch
house, wobble down the steps, and lumber around the side of the house and
behind the shed as fast as her legs would carry her.

I waited for Biggs to run out
after her, but instead, it was Mase who came to the screen door. He filled the
wooden frame completely and peeked his head outside, a mixture of trepidation
and fear twisting his features as he scanned the yard around the house. When he
saw me standing in front of the pasture gate a couple dozen yards away, he
shrugged.

Muffled sobbing and screaming
reclaimed my attention, and I looked back over at the shed. Sarah walked a few
steps away from it, her arms flailing emphatically, and she turned and
disappeared behind the shed once more.

I gave Mase what I hoped was a
reassuring nod then sprinted toward Sarah, more than a little concerned.

As I drew closer, I could barely
make out what she was shrieking. “…not even real. It’s not even real…” Coming
up alongside the shed, I stopped, horrified by the images that were filling my
head, by the feelings that were fogging my mind.

Sarah, scrawny and homeless
with tattered clothes and more-wild-than-usual hair, walked into a cramped,
nondescript building, where a man in a white lab coat stood with a clipboard in
hand. Holding it out to her, the man pointed to the top paper. Sarah nodded,
biting her lower lip as her eyes scoured the document. With a heavy exhale, she
signed the bottom of the sheet, and the man smiled.

Like her memories were resurfacing
from a long-buried past, another image emerged.

Sarah woke up in a hospital
bed, IVs in her arms, tubes in her mouth, and electrodes attached to her head.

Stepping around the corner of the
shed, my mind spinning, I watched her.

She was completely oblivious to my
presence until she turned around again, stopping after taking a few awkward
steps in my direction. Her eyes narrowed, then widened, and I could feel her
inner battle—
see
her different selves fighting for space in her mind. It
was like I was observing someone with multiple personality disorder carrying
out several conversations with herself. Two images of Sarah flickered to life
in my mind’s eye, two different versions of her, screaming at each other about
who was real, who was right…who should be in charge of
her
.

Sarah, strong and formidable,
stood in the library of a grand home—what I’d thought was
her
grand
home. She looked like a completely
different person, a determined, almost angry glare pinching her features. Her
curly brown hair was pulled back into a tight knot atop her head, her clothes
were black and form-fitting, and a handgun was gripped in her fingers.

“There were no family photos,” I
said, remembering the walls adorned with original artwork, but nothing
personal, no portraits of her wealthy parents or candid images from her
childhood. We’d never even found her parents.

Sarah watched as men in
fatigues removed a handful of bloodied bodies from the house, and a team of
people hustled around her, removing photos and certificates from the walls, scouring
through the hundreds of books lining the shelves, and tossing trophies into
oversized garbage bags.

Sarah started pacing again. “I
don’t understand.” She let out a whimper. “I don’t understand. It’s all a
goddamn lie! What am I supposed to do? What am I—” When she glanced up again,
it was like she was noticing me for the first time. She stopped in her tracks,
tears pouring down her face as she wrapped her arms around her belly. “I don’t
know what’s wrong with me, Zoe,” she wailed and fell to her knees.

“Oh my God, Sarah, be careful!” I
said, closing the distance between us and kneeling beside her. I wrapped my
arms around her shoulders, trying to steady her shaking body. “What the hell
happened?”

Completely despondent and unable
to formulate a single coherent word, Sarah continued to sob. Unsure what I
should do, I pulled her tighter against me, my love for my friend clouding the
fear I should’ve been feeling in seeing her true past, in feeling the burning
hatred she intermittently felt for me.

Purposefully, I watched a storm of
jumbled images flash through her mind…images that made the hair on my arms and
the back of my neck stand on end.

Sarah was walking beside a man
in fatigues, her clothes changed into jeans and a cardigan, her hair down and
bouncing with each leisurely step, and a softer expression on her face and a
shimmer of innocence in her eyes.

I balked and stared down at my
wailing, quivering friend. A torrent of emotions assaulted us both: resentment,
terror, determination, eagerness mixed with affection, gratitude, guilt, and uncertainty.

“Sarah?” I said, recalling the
night I’d dug around in her mind and had found
nothing
like the two
lives I could now see commingling as one.

Sarah and I were in her bedroom
back in St. Louis, jumping up and down and giggling so much that we could
barely breathe. Biggs was there, standing in the doorway, and upon simply
seeing him, adoration filled her entire being…

…Sarah, wearing her black pants
and combat boots, was kneeling on the ground. A murderous look hardened her
features as she dragged a blade across an old man’s throat. His eyes were wide
with terror before his face, twisted in pain, slackened as he bled out in
Sarah’s arms. Her expression was blank, except for the victorious glint in her
eyes.

I swallowed the dread nestled
thick in my throat.

Sarah and Jordan walked in
through the front door of my house in Salem, both smiling at me. Sarah
proffered her hand in greeting, like she was a completely different person than
the woman holding the knife…

The truth was glaring me in the
face, suffocating, and I resisted the urge to scream.

I was sitting on my bed back at
Fort Knox, Sarah brushing my hair…

…Sarah was watching over me
while I slept, crying with concern as I lay in the hospital bed…

…Sarah was sitting at my
kitchen table back in Salem, eating
my
food
in
my
house, watching TV in
my
house, even when Jordan was out of
town or at work.