“Uh…hey, D.” I flashed her an awkward smile, and then realized she wasn’t the only thing in my dream that seemed off. The cypress tree up on the ridge to my left was too small, and the ocean stretching out in front of me was too blue, too vibrant.
“Hey, Zoe.” Dani said again, and I looked back at her. Her grin suddenly grew…too big. I frowned.
Is there a glitch in the matrix or something? I plastered a tolerant, perhaps sad smile on my face. It would be nice if any of this was real. “Hey, D.”
Dani donned a pair of sunglasses that appeared out of nowhere and lay down on her towel, her strangely too-red curls fanning out behind her. As she adjusted her bikini top, I noted she was much curvier than in real life.
I started chewing on the inside of my cheek. “This dream is really creeping me out.”
The breeze died down, and Dani suddenly vanished.
“That’s my fault,” a man’s voice echoed around me. “I was trying to recreate a scenario that would be comfortable and familiar to you.”
Startled, I scanned the beach. There was no one there. “Who are you, and what the hell are you doing in my dream?” My eyes narrowed as I again scanned the endless beach, expecting to see someone walking toward me.
He chuckled. “I think you know who I am.”
It was strange having a conversation with someone I didn’t know…and couldn’t see. “Do I?” At first I wasn’t convinced, but when he chuckled again, I thought about the mystery guy from Dani’s dreams. Is it possible he’s real? “MG…?”
“According to Dani, yes, that would be me.”
“And you’re in my dream because…?”
“I’m doing a favor for our mutual friend.”
Relieved, I smiled. “Really? Then she’s okay?” I hadn’t heard from her in weeks, not since she’d gone off on her own. “Is she still alone?”
“Yes, she’s okay. She’s with her friends, and she wants to know where you are. They’re on their way to meet you, but it might take them a while…they’re on horseback.”
Ignoring a fleeting feeling of distrust, I told him where we planned to set up camp once we made it to Colorado. Dani was alive, and I knew MG was the only hope I had of finding my best friend and my brother.
“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted him,” I spat.
Six heads whipped in my direction.
“Trusted who, Baby Girl?” Harper asked.
“The bastard from her dreams. Mystery Guy or MG or whatever she calls him,” I said. In my moment of clarity, I’d bitten the inside of my cheek too hard, and I could taste salty blood welling in the break of my skin. “I told him where Dani could find us…where we’d be.” I lowered my face to my hands. “I can’t believe I was so stupid! It had to be—”
“But he helped bring us together,” Carlos reminded me. “Why would he do something like this?”
“He was playing us,” I snapped. “He’s the only one who knew we were here. And, outside of us, he’s the only one who knows about Dani’s Ability.” I shook my head, still staring into the fire pit, which was once again a smoldering mess of embers and weak flames. “Why was he in her dreams to begin with? How did he even find her?” Was he hunting her? Herding her to the Colony?
“Wait.” Still crouched, Harper pivoted to face me. “Didn’t Dani ask him to find us, to find you?”
Carlos stood up defensively. “She did. And he helped her learn how to use her Ability. He’s her friend.”
The reminder made my skin crawl. Was he grooming her? Molding her into a toy, something he could play with? I groaned. Not knowing what MG wanted with Dani filled me with dread.
Understanding widened Harper’s eyes. “He had to have known we’d figure it out eventually—”
“Right, and now that we know who he is…we still don’t know who he really is,” I bit out, wanting to scream. “It’s fucking perfect.”
“Which is why we need to leave,” Biggs said forcefully. “He knows we’re here, and if he’s got the whole Colony to back him, we can’t protect ourselves if he comes back for us.”
“But he could’ve killed us already,” Harper argued. “He could’ve killed us, taken Dani, and never given us a second thought. I mean, it makes sense that he’s the one who took her, but the repercussions of letting us live…” He shook his head.
“We’re nothing to them. There are only a dozen of us and only half are trained to fight.” I counted to five and then to ten, trying to breathe away the tremors of outrage.
Jake strode over from the stable, oblivious to our collective realization. “You ready?” He dropped a pistol holster next to me on the hay bale. “This one straps to your thigh,” he explained. “Chris had an extra. It’ll make lugging your duffle bag around easier.”
I gave him a weak, grateful smile, loving his thoughtfulness and the way his warm, brown eyes made me feel a little less pissed off. “Thanks.”
Sanchez cleared her throat and we turned to her. She was focusing on the small, fold-up map in her hands. “I know the Colony is set up at Peterson, but what about this other base—”
“They were going to take Becca to Peterson,” Jake said. “Dani’s situation doesn’t seem so different.”
“What happened to her—your sister, I mean?” Carlos asked. I could feel his growing fear.
After a moment, Jake shrugged. He was as exhausted as the rest of us, and naturally, he wasn’t eager to relive the moment his sister died in a bloody heap in his arms.
“We need to know everything we’re up against,” Grayson told him.
Jake’s expression was blank, but he nodded slowly. I reached for his hand and pulled him down to sit beside me. He started by telling them that his sister was like Harper, that the Virus had changed the way her mind worked, and that she had visions of the future.
“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 toge
ther, 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 l
etters. 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.”
Into The Fire (The Ending Series) Page 3
