The Ending Series: The Complete Series

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  The man and woman smiled beatifically. “The Prophets asked us to welcome you and to show you around,” said the woman, not answering Jason’s question.

  The man’s words followed as soon as she finished speaking. “I’m Mark, and this is Jen.”

  After introductions were given, I told my group, “They’re giving me the creeps. Anything, Ky?”

  “Nope. In fact,” he added, “they’re the most peaceful people I’ve felt. It’s a nice break.”

  “Lead on, my new friends,” Jason said, motioning toward the woods with his free hand. To me he said, “Wait until they’re a ways ahead, and then put a bridle on your horse.”

  “I don’t have one.”

  “I do,” he replied, rummaging through one of his saddle bags. He handed me the bundle of leather straps once Jen and Mark turned away. We waited a few minutes for our guides and companions to blend in with the trees before bridling Wings.

  “Is there anything you aren’t prepared for?”

  “Us,” he answered, holding my gaze as he reclaimed my hand. “Come on.”

  After twenty minutes of weaving the horses and goats through the seemingly endless forest, artificial colors came into sight. They filled every possible clearing between the evergreens. We seemed to have arrived in a city of tents—bright fabric spreading as far as the eye could see. Which, considering we were in a forest, really wasn’t that far, but the sight was odd enough.

  “You may stay here for the night,” Jen said, indicating a small clearing near the edge of the mass of tents. “The Prophets will send for you in the morning.”

  “Explore as you like, but please don’t approach the Temple until your morning escort comes for you,” Mark added. Abruptly, Mark and Jen turned and waded into the sea of tents. Empty tents. Where the hell are all the people?

  As the pair walked away, we converged in a huddle. There was a lengthy discussion about the potential benefits and dangers of staying the night, and then we voted. Everyone agreed that one night wouldn’t be too big of a risk, and it would allow us to mingle and gain some valuable intelligence. That is, if the people who used all those tents ever showed up.

  ~~~~~

  “You’re anxious,” I told Jason hours later as we huddled together on a fallen log beside our campfire. It was well into the night, and we were alone, having been assigned the task of “guarding our shit.” Our friends were making nice with the natives, who had returned to their campsites after sunset in a massive wave of bodies.

  Jason tightened the arm he had draped around my shoulders and kissed my temple. “No…I’m alert.”

  “How late do you think everyone’ll stay out?” I asked, yawning as I finished the thought. With every passing minute the fire’s warmth was lulling me closer to unconsciousness.

  “No clue,” he replied. “But I’m guessing late.”

  Hoots and joyous screams and raucous laughter had been echoing throughout the forest since the campers had returned from wherever the hell they’d been. I felt like a parent waiting up for her teenagers to return home, wondering if they would miss curfew. I also felt tired, which I emphasized by yawning, again.

  “Go to sleep, Red. I’ll stay up.”

  I shook my head against Jason’s shoulder. “I’m staying up with you.”

  A quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest. “We’ll see.” About fifteen minutes later, I was nodding off under the cozy safety of Jason’s arm.

  ~~~~~

  I woke in our tent, glued against Jason’s side. He was already awake, staring blankly at the nylon roof. It was, after all, well after sunrise, though that fact was barely noticeable from the light seeping through the cloudy sky. Jason always rose with the sun.

  “Hey! I said I was going to stay up with you!” I complained.

  He shrugged. “And I said ‘We’ll see.’ It’s time to get up. We don’t know when they’re coming to take us to these ‘Prophets’.”

  “When did everyone get back?” I asked, ignoring the whole “getting up” thing. I kissed his bare chest and gently bit down.

  One of Jason’s hands slipped under my t-shirt, teasing the sensitive skin below my belly button. “Careful, Red. If you start this, everyone here’ll know you’re not really a mute. The noises you make…,” he said, groaning softly.

  “I’m not that…” I trailed off as he slid his fingers lower, over the thin cotton of my underwear. I moaned softly but involuntarily. “Okay…point taken…” He didn’t stop but instead caused me to make a few more throaty noises. “Jason!”

  His fingers stilled. “Sorry.”

  “You’d better be!” Even my mind voice sounded frustrated. He’d done a good job of getting me worked up, and I couldn’t do anything about it. “Dammit!”

  Removing his hand from my nether regions, Jason planted a soft kiss on my lips and met my eyes. “I’ll make it up to you tonight. Promise.”

  I squeezed my eyelids shut, blocking out my view of the desire burning in his eyes. “That’s so not helping.”

  Jason laughed softly and kissed my neck. “Back to your question…not everyone came back last night. At least, not by two o’clock, which is when I carried you in here. Holly kept watch…said she hasn’t been sleeping much anyway.”

  “Oh, that’s…um…very…um…would you stop that!” My breath quickened as Jason continued to pay attention to my neck.

  “Nope. Not until you get up.”

  “Fine,” I mentally huffed. I shoved the sleeping bag lower and scooted out, slapping Jason’s hands away as he continued to find sensitive bits of flesh to tease. “You are such an ass!”

  Smirking, Jason propped himself up on an elbow and watched me dig around the tent for the long underwear and jeans he’d stripped off me the previous night. “We’ve already established that.”

  I snorted and glanced at him over my shoulder.

  He slid out from the sleeping bags, looking like an underwear model who’d just finished a photo shoot, and joined me in the search for warm clothes. Eventually we found everything we needed, including thick down jackets, boots, gloves, and wool hats, and we stepped out into the blessedly snow-free morning. Jason glared at the sky, like his menacing scowl alone could frighten away the chance of snow. Everyone except Ky was already sitting around the campfire, looking…nothing. Not hungover. Not laughing. Not talking. They were blank.

  “They look weird to you?” I asked Jason as he spat toothpaste onto a low shrub. He nodded. I continued brushing my teeth beside him, pondering the reason for my friends’ odd behavior. Maybe they’d discovered something really disturbing about these people. Or maybe they’d all participated in an orgy and were too horrified to admit it. I didn’t know, but I was sure as hell going to find out.

  “Where’s Ky?” I asked everyone after I’d stowed my toiletries.

  “Oh, Ky?” Chris replied. “I think he’s with—”

  “The Prophets are ready for you,” Jen, the eerie woman, unknowingly interrupted. “You’ll need to leave your dog here,” Jen said.

  Mark explained, “The Prophet Cole has outlawed dogs from the camp entirely.”

  “Jack comes,” I growled in Jason’s head.

  “He’s a service animal,” Jason said, holding up my hand. “You see, she’s a deaf mute, and he’s her hearing dog. Either we all stay out here, or the dog comes with us. The Prophets are more than welcome to—”

  “Mark,” the woman said. “The Prophet Cole is reasonable. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

  “Lie,” Ben told me, and I shared the information with the rest of my people.

  “Does she have a leash for him?” Mark asked while I smiled at him dumbly.

  “Make sure he sticks to you like glue,” Jason told me. “I’ve never seen her use one, but I’ve also never seen him leave her side. It’s unnecessary.”

  “Very well,” Mark stated. “Follow us.”

  While we meandered down a narrow, zigzagging pathway between tents, I asked Chris, “What’s up with you guy
s. You’re all acting sort of zombie-ish.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” she said. “Everyone here was really welcoming last night. I’ve never felt so free…so at peace.”

  I didn’t say anything more and just looked around at the others. Free? At peace? Now? As nice as it sounded, it was one of the most ridiculous things I’d ever heard. I passed my concerns on to Jason. He agreed.

  I wasn’t sure what I was expecting—maybe not a step pyramid or a colonnaded Greco-Roman temple—but definitely not a yurt. Resting on an outcropping of sand near an expansive lake, the rough, octagonal, log structure had a steady stream of smoke rising from its center. It didn’t really have a roof, but instead was more dome-shaped, and was maybe thirty feet in diameter.

  “This is the Temple of the Prophets of the New World,” Jen proclaimed, holding her arms out wide like the yurt was a magnificent sight to behold.

  Mark urged us forward, shooting a surprisingly irritated look at his companion. It was the first show of real emotion I’d seen on anyone besides Jason all morning. “Come. It is not good to keep the Prophets waiting.”

  As we followed our guides through the structure’s arched entrance, we were wrapped in unexpected warmth. A substantial fire burned in the fire pit in the center of the yurt, and three oversized, rough-hewn chairs were arrayed on a small platform beyond it. Their occupants—a man and old woman on either side, and a short, rotund woman in the center—sat in the chairs like they were thrones.

  The man, evidently the Prophet Cole, was an attractive, middle-aged gentleman of average height and build. In the previous world, I would’ve marked him as a lawyer or a corporate businessman. The far woman was so elderly and frail-looking that I couldn’t believe she’d survived the Virus.

  The middle chair was larger than the other two, as was its occupant. She was obese, or what Grams used to call ‘dumpy’ out of kindness, and had a splotchy face that was simultaneously round and saggy. Her sheer unattractiveness was at odds with the two gorgeous, shirtless men kneeling on either side of her chair, petting her arms, hands, legs, and whatever else they could reach.

  “Oh my God,” I said to Jason. “Is that—”

  “Ky.” Jason completed my observation with appropriate disgust. Ky was one of the partially naked men fawning all over the grotesque woman.

  “Chris knew…this morning…she was about to tell me where he was…she didn’t care.” I paused, and my stomach clenched. “Jason, something’s really, really wrong.”

  In perfect harmony, the three seated people spoke, “We are the Prophets of the New World. We have foreseen your arrival and desire you to join the followers of the One True Religion. With us, you will find safety, and above all else, peace. We welcome you.”

  “Rehearse much,” I thought sarcastically to all of my companions, hoping the cynicism might break through their fog.

  “We would like to stay with you and your people for a few more nights,” Jason said, “but then we really should continue on our way.”

  “A few more nights…are you nuts?” I asked him.

  “No. Just wait.”

  The fat woman eyed Jason appraisingly and smiled. “I am the Prophet Mandy, and these are the Prophets Mary and Cole. You are more than welcome to stay with us for as long as you like. Let us dismiss this talk of leave-taking until you’ve seen everything we have to offer,” she said, her voice turning throaty.

  “Why’s she talking like she stepped out of a Jane Austen novel? And why’s Ky fawning all over her?” I asked the group. Nobody responded.

  Watching the two young men caress the repulsive Prophet was making me feel sick, and not only because the display disgusted me—I was pretty sure I knew what was going on.

  “How do you all feel about the Prophet Mandy? Anybody feeling warm and fuzzy?” I asked my companions.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Jason said.

  Chris, standing on the other side of Jason, said, “She doesn’t seem too bad. But…I don’t know…something seems…off.”

  “I think she’s amazing,” Holly said, and Hunter and Mr. Grayson echoed her thoughts.

  Ben’s response was the most conflicted, convincing me that my hypothesis was at least semi-accurate. “She’s not entirely truthful, but I want to trust her. She’s just so…I don’t know. I want to stay with her. I feel at peace around her.”

  “Jason!” I said frantically in his head alone. “She’s doing something to everyone. Like what Cece did to some of the guys, controlling their minds or something…except it’s working on everyone. I think I’m safe because you’re unconsciously shielding yourself from her, and I’ve been touching you since we arrived, so you must be protecting me too. And Chris is standing closest to you so she’s not quite so…enamored. But Holly, Hunter, and Mr. Grayson are practically in love with her! Plus Ky…that’s just wrong!”

  “Shit…,” Jason said silently.

  “Can you use your Ability on them…you know, null them or whatever?” I asked Jason.

  “I don’t know how to fucking control it!” he snapped. Out loud, he said, “Prophets, do you mind if I speak with my people for a moment? Your kind offer is very persuasive.”

  The hideous Prophet Mandy inclined her head regally, and Jason gathered the others close to him. He carried on a show of bland conversation, discussing the many benefits of staying with the obviously mind-controlled cult—leaving out the mind-controlled cult part—while I explained the situation in their minds. Once everyone was within a few feet of Jason, the “Mandy fog” started to clear from their heads, and they grew panicked.

  “Tell them to keep calm, and stay close to me if they can. I’ll try to…I don’t know…I have no idea how to use this fucking Ability!” Jason said.

  “It’s okay. It’ll be alright. I’ll tell them. We’ll figure it out…you and me, okay?” I replied, attempting to calm him down.

  “What is your decision, Jason?” Mandy asked with husky familiarity.

  “We’ll stay indefinitely, of course,” he answered, smiling. He was so good at masking his emotions; it was unnerving.

  “Very well,” she said. “Everyone may leave—except you.” She looked at Jason. “And my Pretties, of course.” She patted Ky’s shoulder as she spoke. To my surprise, the other two Prophets rose to leave with the rest of my companions.

  “She’s got to be the one controlling everyone,” I told Jason, and he silently agreed.

  When the yurt was empty of nearly everyone—only Jason, Jack, Ky, the other shirtless man, Mandy, and I remained—the fat woman simpered, “Why is that stringy little thing still here? Send her away.”

  Jason nearly choked on his words. “Oh…great Prophet…she’s harmless, and she’s only comfortable when I’m around. Besides, you can say anything around her, and she won’t hear a word.”

  Mandy stood, flinging the hands of her worshipers away, and I watched with avid fascination as her lumps and folds rearranged under her weather-inappropriate chiffon gown. It was emerald green, strapless, and way too tight, and with her hair teased into a poofy up-do, she carried an uncanny resemblance to Ursula.

  “I said, send her away. If you refuse, my Pretties will kill her,” Mandy threatened, motioning for Ky and the other man to approach us.

  From behind them they drew long knives with blades that shimmered like mirrors, reflecting the fire’s flames.

  “Over my dead fucking body,” Jason growled, drawing his sidearm and aiming it at the self-proclaimed Prophet.

  At my side, Jack was snarling ferociously, his hackles raised and his lips retracted to show his gleaming canines.

  Abandoning my vow of silence, I pleaded, “Jason, wait! What if—”

  But Jason didn’t have the luxury of waiting. Ky and the other man would be on us in seconds. Without hesitation, Jason pulled the trigger, and slimy chunks and crimson ribbons erupted from the back of Mandy’s head, coating her throne and spattering the wall behind her. It took her massive body a few moments to
collapse onto the dais, and by the time it had settled, the fog of her control had lifted completely from Ky and the other man.

  Ky looked at us, his face frozen in horror, and his knife slipped from his fingers. “Oh God…What am I…Fuck!” I had no idea what he’d been through over the past nine hours, but I could tell by the horrified look on his face that it was bad—like scarred-for-life bad.

  More than a few blood-curdling screams sounded from outside the desecrated Temple, and I wondered what atrocities the “followers of the One True Religion” had endured under Mandy’s manipulation. What would Cece have done in Mandy’s place? I shuddered, hoping I never found out.

  “Holy shit,” Jason muttered.

  The second “Pretty” had launched himself onto Mandy’s corpse and was ferociously mutilating it with his knife. The three of us just watched him, unwilling to interrupt what we could only assume was well-deserved retribution.

  “You’re always telling us you want it harder, deeper…is this hard enough?” he cried out as he stabbed again and again, and blood splattered onto his body. “Do you want it deeper, Mistress?” It was almost a mercy that the monstrous woman was already dead.

  I grew instantly nauseous, both from the verbal confirmation of how Mandy had been wielding her mind control and from the sloppy sound the knife made as it ripped through her seemingly endless layers of flesh. Parts of her body no longer resembled anything human, looking more like ineptly butchered cuts of meat. Finally, when his blade was clinking against bone with every strike, the man dropped his knife and crawled and scooted away from the decimated corpse awkwardly. He was headed straight for me, and I was too stunned to move.

  Jason’s hands gripped my upper arms painfully as he picked me up and flung me toward Ky. I stumbled into my friend right before the man’s gore-covered body collided with Jason’s legs instead of mine. Jason staggered backward from an impact that would have sent me sprawling on the floor.

  As soon as I’d fallen against Ky’s solid torso, he’d caught me in a fierce hug; he seemed to need the comfort as much as I did. The abruptness of being manhandled shocked me out of my horrified trance, and my brain finally processed the slaughter I’d just witnessed.