“Trade?” Jason asked, interest clearly piqued.
Harper stared at him for a moment, then nodded. “We trade Dani for Becca, or Rachel…or…anyway, the Colony’s coming for her, we already know that. They’re risking lives to extract her.” Harper looked back at me. “You’ve seen how important she is to them, and you overheard their conversation today. They want her back. We can use that to our advantage.”
Waves of dread rolled through me.
“It’s a good plan,” Jason said, looking around, measuring our resolve. “What are we waiting for?” He turned toward the barn doorway.
“Jason, wait!” I clutched on to his arm before he could walk away. “It’s Jake’s sister, we can’t just…” …hand her over.
But it could bring Dani back. “We need to think about this more,” I said. “I mean, don’t we?”
He turned on his heel. “What the fuck, Zoe. You—”
Chris reentered the barn, murmuring something under her breath as she set a cup of water next to Ky’s unconscious form.
“Just give him some time. He’ll be fine,” Jason told her.
“No, he won’t,” she said. “Not if we don’t get him out of here.”
Hearing Sarah’s laughter, I glanced outside to see Becca and Grayson smiling with the mother-to-be about something. “We can’t do this to Jake, you guys. That’s his sister sitting out there.”
“What other choice do we have, Baby Girl?”
As if on cue, Jake strode out of the stall we’d been using as our room and down the corridor, running his hands over his head fervently. “No,” he said, his voice as cold as ice.
“Jake,” I breathed, and when our eyes met, his darkened.
“No.”
Sanchez took a step toward him. “They’ll be here within the next twenty-four hours. We need to get some of these people out of here—Sarah, Grayson—and we need to move camp.”
“Fine, but you’re not using Becca.”
“She’s important to them,” Harper said, trying to get Jake to understand. “If we use her to—”
Jason opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Jake rounded on him. “Would you do that to Zoe?”
“It’s not the same. For all we know, that woman isn’t even your sister.”
When Jake’s eyes met mine, they were pleading with me to understand or to back him up, but I was starting to second-guess my initial certainty. Do we just want it to be her? Is it just a coincidence? Is it just a resemblance? “Jake, I—”
He shook his head and strode out of the barn, leaving the rest of us staring after him in momentary silence.
“What do we do?” I whispered. I trained my eyes on the doorway, wishing Jake would come back, that we could figure this out together.
“We vote,” Sanchez said. “It’s all we can do.” I turned to face her as she continued, “We already know what Jake’s vote is.” Her eyes swept around the group, giving us a moment to think. “Who thinks we should use the woman as a bargaining chip to get Dani back?”
Biggs raised his hand, then Jason and Chris. Sanchez’s eyes rested on me, waiting. My mouth was suddenly dry and my heart racing.
“Uh, guys…” Harper pointed toward the doorway.
We all looked over to see Becca standing there. How much did she overhear? With her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes fixed on us thoughtfully, I could tell she’d heard enough.
“What does it mean, ‘bargaining chip’? Who is Dani?” Becca’s tone was flat, like she was trying to act offended, but I could feel a genuine curiosity stir inside her.
“She’s my best friend, and your ‘Father’ has her,” I spat, my concern for her melting away a little, but only for an instant. Her eyes widened with surprise, and her curiosity was replaced with something that felt almost like concern. “She’s the telepath he was looking for…the one you were so excited that he’d found.”
Becca stood there quietly, her cobwebbed mind coming to life.
I could hear someone moving around behind me, but my eyes were glued to hers. “What’s he going to do to her, Rachel?” Her false name felt strange on my tongue, but I didn’t want to argue with her.
Becca took a few steps inside, the conversation she’d had with “Father” about the telepath replaying in her mind.
“You know what he’s capable of,” I said, my voice breaking a little. “What—”
Simultaneously, Jason sidled up to Becca’s right while Biggs moved in on her left.
“Put your hands behind your back…please.” Biggs’s voice was stern, but there was a note of discomfort in it.
“What are you…” Becca shook her head and began backing away from them.
“We’re restraining you,” Jason said. “Don’t bother fighting us—you won’t win.”
She looked up at him. “But why?”
“Because we can’t take the chance of you running away,” Sanchez said from beside me, and when I glanced over, her face was completely unreadable.
“But I want to go back to the Colony. I have to. You do not need to tie me up.” There was a hint of desperation in Becca’s husky voice.
But Jason had finished tightening the rope around her wrists, and as she seemed to realize there was nothing she could do, her gaze shifted frantically around the room. Fear poured out of her. “You do not understand. I have to be ready for the escort when they return. If I fail…”
“Jason,” I hissed. “We don’t know for sure she’s not Jake’s sister.”
Jason looked into Becca’s eyes. “Are you Jake’s sister?”
She slowly shook her head.
Jason’s eyes shifted to mine. “If she doesn’t believe she’s his sister, that’s good enough for me.”
Pointing out toward the fire, Biggs nudged her outside. “Come on, let’s go.”
With pleading eyes, Becca urged me to help her, but I felt frozen in place, torn.
On his way out the door, Jason smacked Ky’s knee. “Come on. Let’s get you packed up. I’m sending you and Ben with Sarah.”
Ky groaned and struggled to sit up. “Road trip?”
6
DANI
MARCH 15, 1AE
“There are a few things you should keep in mind,” Gabe said as he unlocked the front door to my new home and let me in.
“Hmmm?” I was barely listening. General Herodson is giving me my own house! Gabe couldn’t possibly have been saying anything that could compete with my excitement to explore. My own home! Eeek!
The house was in a neighborhood a little south of the building housing General Herodson’s office, about a fifteen-minute walk. The exterior was painted a muted sienna with white trim, and it had been fashioned in a cookie-cutter, pseudo-craftsman style. From the outside it looked perfect, displaying its glaringly white two-car garage with evident pride. Momentarily, I wondered if a new car came with my new home. The whole thing felt surreal, like winning the lotto without buying a ticket.
“General Herodson keeps a strict order around here, but because of Project Eden—the reproduction program—some of the men think they can take liberties with any woman they want.”
“Right,” I said, hearing but not processing a single word he’d uttered. My attention was completely focused on the living room we’d entered. It was more luxurious than I’d expected for a house on a military base, with hardwood floors, huge, bright windows, and an open ceiling that allowed me to see the second-floor landing. There were two tasteful microsuede armchairs and a sofa in cream and sage green, with pillows, throws, and curtains in bolder reds and browns. “Does somebody already live here?” I asked, shifting my eyes from the furnishings to the ridiculously high vaulted ceiling. “You know, ’cause it looks like someone lives here…”
“Not anymore,” Gabe said, and I heard him shut and lock the front door.
For some reason, his words resonated with me, and I suddenly had an overpowering sense of déjà vu. Except, in my head, it was someone else’s voice u
ttering those words—not anymore—and I was in a completely different place. What…?
“Dani? Are you okay?” Gabe asked.
I could have sworn I was forgetting something important. Shaking my head, I looked up at his face and attempted a smile. “Yeah…just déjà vu.”
Gabe sighed and continued on, guiding me further into the house. “The bedrooms are all upstairs,” he said, pointing to the polished wooden staircase leading up to the second floor from the entryway as we passed by.
I followed him down the hallway parallel to the stairs. “This place is big,” I said as a dining room came into view on the left. It was completely open to the hallway. Just like the living room, the dining room had been decorated by someone with elegant, if restrained, taste. A heavy, mission-style oak table was set up to provide seating for eight people. It was all so much more than one person needed.
“Um…shouldn’t this place be used by a family or something?” I asked.
Gabe paused, and I nearly bumped into him. He didn’t notice. Instead, he gestured with his hand toward a shorter hallway shooting off to the right. “This leads to the downstairs bathroom and the laundry room.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” I told him, barely glancing down the hall.
Reluctantly, Gabe met my eyes. “I know.” He took a deep breath, holding it for a second too long. “You see, Dani, General Herodson is hoping this will become a family’s home…your family’s home.”
Baffled, I shook my head. “But I don’t have any family left. How…?”
“You have a very desirable Ability, one the General would like to have passed on to the next generation,” he said softly.
That made me raise my eyebrows. “What if I don’t want to have kids? And”—my eyes widened as I remembered it took two people to make a child—“who would I even have kids with? Some soldier? A stranger? You?” I asked, pretending to be offended. Okay, I was a little offended. I liked the General, but I wasn’t his possession to pass around as he saw fit.
Gabe started backing further down the main hallway, entering a large, open space. “Now, I never said—”
“Calm down, I know you’re just the messenger,” I said, swatting his arm. I swept past him and into the room, pausing to peer back at him. “Besides, you’d be a better choice than any military guy.”
As the words left my mouth, they tasted wrong—untrue—but I had no idea why. It wasn’t like the man standing several feet behind me couldn’t have stepped out of most women’s fantasies; he was handsome, put-together, charismatic, and kind. In his light gray slacks and white button-down shirt, he looked like the guy every parent wanted their daughter to bring home. I knew I was interested in him in a more-than-friends way—so what was with the weird part of my head screaming, Wrong! This is all WRONG!
Stop it! I told myself. I glanced around, taking in the open kitchen, with its earthy, tiled countertops and wide island, and the cozy family room adjoining it.
“Look! There’s a fireplace!” I exclaimed, sounding like a little kid spotting a horse…or, well, me spotting a horse. But I liked fires; they were comfortable, familiar. After all, I’d spent the past few lonely months hopping from place to place, relying on campfires as my only source of heat during the cold, dark nights.
The second I thought about that—about sitting around campfires, isolated and alone—I felt the feeling of wrongness again. I couldn’t picture a single place I’d camped, couldn’t remember any of the houses I’d squatted in. I couldn’t even remember the details of my journey to the Colony from…somewhere.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to think, to remember, but… “Gabe, I can’t remember…I think something’s wrong with me,” I said, imploring him with my eyes. “I don’t know how I got here…or where I came from. Did I come from Seattle? I must’ve, but I can’t…I just don’t know!”
On the verge of panic, I felt Gabe’s arm settle over my shoulders, and several tentative steps later, I was sinking into the comfortable embrace of a couch. After only a moment of hesitation, Gabe seated himself beside me. I could see him out of the corner of my too-wide eye. He was watching me, his brow furrowed.
I opened my mouth, releasing a barrage of questions. “Did I come straight from Seattle? Why’d I leave? Did—oh God—did Cam…did everyone die? What about Callie? I just…I can’t remember! Why didn’t I go to Bodega Bay to check on Grams? Or Massachusetts to see if Zo survived? Why’d I come here? And why didn’t I bring Jack? And how’d I meet you? I know I knew you before I got here, but how is that possible? And what about—”
Gabe captured my hands, halting my words. “Dani, calm down. You have a concussion. It’s probably just short-term memory loss. Everything will be much clearer in the morning.”
A concussion? I squeezed his hands, feeling like they were the only things tethering me to sanity. “Please tell me…how did we meet?”
“I found you when you were all alone,” he said, not taking his eyes from mine. “I helped you learn to use your telepathy.”
Right…that feels right. “Did we travel together?”
His eyes flicked down to our hands, then back up to my face, a plea evident in their pale blue depths. “Not exactly.”
“Then how’d you find me?” My chin quivered as I said “me.” I was trying to remember the details of the past four months, but I just…couldn’t. This is not good.
Gabe looked away briefly and muttered, “He wouldn’t have taken that, too, would he?” He shook his head. “Dani, I found you by using my Ability, remember? I can visit people’s dreams.”
The absurdity of the statement stopped my flow of tears before it even started. “You do realize how weird that sounds when you say it out loud, don’t you?”
Releasing one of my hands, he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me against his side. “Yeah, I do.”
A nervous laugh bubbled out of me. Being in such close proximity to him was making my stomach fluttery, in a really, really good way. “You should call it something grander; visiting people’s dreams sounds a little lame. Maybe you should say”—I lowered my voice—“‘I am a Dreamwalker.’”
Gabe’s answering laugh was deep and melodious, and at the sound of it, my heart gave an enthusiastic thump. I peered up at him through my lashes. “So…should we explore upstairs? Check out the bedrooms?” Check out the bed? It had been months since I’d been this close to another person, let alone a man who made me feel so giddy.
He tensed up, clenched his jaw, and looked away. Abruptly, he stood, leaving me cold and alone where we’d been warm and cuddling only a moment before. “Of course. I’m sure you want to shower, hot water and all,” he said dismissively.
At the words “hot water” I nearly drooled. All thoughts of Gabe and beds evaporated as I imagined standing beneath a steaming stream of hot water. Oh my God…or soaking in an oh-so-hot bath…
Without another word, I stood and zipped past Gabe into the hallway and up the stairs, ignoring my aching head the entire time. It only took me a few seconds to find the master bedroom. Its oak furnishings were as tasteful as those on the ground floor, and there was a queen bed covered in a fluffy, bronze-colored down comforter and a wide window fitted with lowered bamboo blinds. The adjoining bathroom was spacious, including two sinks, an oversized tub, and a separate stall shower. Definitely a bath, I thought blissfully while I toed off my tennis shoes and peeled off my borrowed sweats. I left the door cracked open a few inches, wondering if Gabe would see it as an invitation. And yes, it was an invitation.
I fiddled with the hot and cold knobs on the edge of the tub, thankful that hot water poured from the faucet within seconds. Glorious steam floated up from the water’s surface, enticing me to sink in even though the large tub was only a few inches full. I almost did, but after a quick glance around the ledge of the bathtub, I noticed an extreme lack of toiletries. Soap, at least, was a necessity.
Hopeful, I padded to the cupboards beneath the sinks on the opposite side
of the bathroom, closed my eyes, and whispered, “Please have some shampoo and conditioner.” I cracked my eyes open to peek into the far right cupboard and found only cleaning supplies.
“Damn.”
The middle cupboard was jammed full of toilet paper and boxes of tissues. Useful, but not what I’m looking for. Crossing my fingers, I opened the left cupboard and sighed. Bottles of several types of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash fought for space with boxes of bar soap, cans of shaving cream, loofahs, and razors.
I was going to take a hot bath and shave my legs. “Oh God,” I groaned.
“What?” Gabe called from the other side of the door. Evidently, it hadn’t been a very quiet groan.
I frowned. He was in the adjoining bedroom, but apparently he wasn’t planning to cross the doorway and join me in the tub. My pride would have been wounded if the slight hadn’t been vastly overshadowed by my excitement about the gallons of hot water awaiting me.
“Nothing,” I replied. Glancing at the empty towel rack, I added, “Can you find me a towel? There aren’t any in here.”
“Sure.”
While I waited, I searched through the various bottles in the cupboard, finally settling on some herbal-scented hair products and a vanilla body wash. It wasn’t bubble bath, but that didn’t stop me from using it as such. I drizzled the thick, pearly liquid near the faucet, watching the water churn it into a frothy foam that smelled like vanilla icing. And then I stepped into heaven. Oh God…
The moment I sank into the sudsy water, I could have died from contentment. Closing my eyes, I savored the sensations, comparing the luxurious heat of the bath to the icy water I was used to…and then I sat bolt upright. Water splashed against the sides of the tub, spilling over the edge in a few places. I turned off the faucet. When was the last time I bathed—and where? I couldn’t remember, exactly, but I had the feeling it had been outside. I could almost feel the stinging sensation of water from a frigid mountain creek gliding down my bare skin, but I couldn’t actually remember. What the hell?
Taking a deep, soothing breath, I settled back into the hot water, rested my head against the porcelain edge, and closed my eyes.
Into The Fire (The Ending Series) Page 8
