The Ending Series: The Complete Series

by Lindsey Fairleigh

The Colony. My barely-there smile turned into a definitely-there frown. According to Jake, the Colony was a very dangerous place. Maybe I should take off soon. I needed to get back to my friends as soon as possible; Jason was probably losing it. He tended to be protective, especially if—okay, when—I was in danger. He’d blown the brains out of the last person to threaten me. Of course, Mandy had been a cult leader who’d mentally and physically raped a large group of unwilling followers, including my sweet Carlos. So it’s not that she hadn’t deserved it, but still…brains…and skull chunks. Ew…

  What does he think happened to me? Does he think I’m dead? Cringing, I realized Jason was probably blaming himself for my disappearance, especially since his temporarily over-excited nulling Ability had prevented me from sensing human minds. In reality, it had been my fault. I never should have wandered off. I’m such an idiot.

  “Well,” Dr. Wesley said, offering me a genuine smile, “those sound like pretty formidable people. They must not have been nearby when you were attacked, otherwise…”

  I shook my head, gently for once. “Jason…” …was nearby, but I guess not close enough. “Oh God, Zo…the others. What if the Crazies went after them, too? Some of them are pretty vulnerable.” Like Sarah. “Do you know…did the patrol notice anything? Are they okay?” I asked, imploring her with my eyes.

  “You’re the only one our patrol found, according to the note in your file.” She glanced at the papers in the folder again, then shook her head. “Yep. Just you. There’s no mention of anyone else. I’m sure they’re fine. It would have been noted in your file if you’d been found near a bunch of fresh bodies.”

  As I looked into her deep, blue eyes, I found no hint of concern. But what if she’s wrong? She thinks their fine, but…

  Feeling anxious, afraid, and a little nauseated, I studied the white-speckled beige institutional floor tiles like they held all the answers. Jason…Zo…Chris…everyone…what if they’re all hurt…or worse? I thought miserably.

  “Lay back, please,” Dr. Wesley said, placing her slim hand on my shoulder and easing me backward on the exam table. “We do general, holistic checkups on everyone who enters the Colony from the outside.” Her tone was businesslike.

  From the outside? I frowned.

  “This includes an exam of the patient’s reproductive organs,” the doctor explained. “It’s required, so I hope you don’t mind.” That shut me and my thoughts up for a good five minutes while she poked and prodded my most personal parts. When she finished and let me sit back up, she asked, “Have you been sexually active since you were infected?”

  Rearranging my thin, borrowed robe to cover myself, I blushed, wondering if she’d been able to tell just by looking. Well, this is embarrassing. “Um…yeah.”

  “Have you considered procreating?”

  I almost laughed, but instead emitted a part-choke, part-cough. “No.”

  “The human population has been drastically reduced. We’ve started a program here to help keep us from the risk of extinction. There are quite a few desirable men here, and you’re a young, healthy woman. You might consider—”

  My eyes narrowed involuntarily. “You mean, you guys started a breeding program?”

  “That’s not exactly—”

  “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m not a broodmare. Besides, I’ve got my hands full with Jason. And you really don’t want to see what he’d do to any of your ‘desirable men’ if they, you know, tried to ‘breed’ with me.” And yes, I used air quotes. I suddenly wished I had my knives and my little pistol. But I’d left all my weapons in the tent with Jason. Damn, I really am an idiot.

  A minuscule smile curved the doctor’s lips, and she moved her head in the barest of nods. “You’re lucky to have found so many people from your hometown who survived. Bodega Bay is quite small, if I’m not mistaken,” she commented. She sat on her black, wheeled stool and moved my folder to her lap to make some more notes.

  Is she fishing for information? It felt like she was, but I didn’t really care. I was tired, concussed, and felt ill at both the possibility that my friends were hurt and the idea of being passed from man to man in an attempt to impregnate me. Finally, I answered, “Not exactly. Like I told you, pretty much everyone is from other places. There were a handful of survivors back home, but not the people who really mattered to us.” Not Grams…not Zo’s dad…

  “Interesting.” Dr. Wesley continued writing on one of the pieces of paper in the folder.

  Is she writing down what I’m telling her? It was time for a subject change. “I, um…I’d really like to get back to my friends. Do you know when I’ll be able to leave?”

  “We’ll want to make sure your head is healed, and it’ll be at least a week before we’ll be certain you’re back to normal.”

  “And if I want to leave earlier?”

  Dr. Wesley pursed her lips before responding. “You’ll have to ask General Herodson about that. He makes all final decisions regarding arrivals and departures.”

  What is this, a freaking airport? “And when will I be able to see him?” I asked. From what I knew, generals were sort of high up in the don’t-give-a-shit-about-nobodies-like-me hierarchy.

  There was a soft knock on the door. Dr. Wesley turned her head toward it and called, “Come in.”

  MG—blond, well over six feet, and easily one of the most intelligent people I’d ever met—eased the dull gray door open. He was handsome, with bold features and pale blue eyes, and his hair, reaching mid-neck when loose, was pulled back into a low, tidy ponytail. With him was another person, a slightly portly young man wearing light blue scrubs and a blank, complacent expression. MG turned to the side, letting the other man enter the room. He did so silently, stopping beside Dr. Wesley.

  The doctor held out her hand in MG’s direction, her pointer finger upraised to halt his words before he had a chance to speak. She looked up at the other man. “AJ, can you please prep this for me?” she asked as she tore off a sheet from a prescription pad and handed it to him.

  The young man—AJ—accepted the slip of paper. “Of course, Dr. Wesley. Would you like me to do this immediately?” His voice was monotonous, sounding almost robotic.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Very well, Dr. Wesley. I will do it right now. Is there anything else you would like me to do?”

  With a small smile, the doctor shook her head. “Thank you, AJ.”

  “You are welcome,” AJ said before he turned and left the room. The entire exchange was just…odd.

  “Lively new assistant you’ve got there, Wes,” MG said. He flashed Dr. Wesley a breathtaking smile, earning a glare. “Sorry I didn’t explain about Dani earlier. It probably surprised you when you realized she wasn’t your normal type of patient.”

  “Yes, well, a heads-up would’ve been nice, Gabriel,” the doctor replied tersely.

  “C’mon, Wes, I didn’t have a chance. You’ve been busy with Re-gens and T-Rs all morning. I just wanted her to see the best, and you know brains better than anyone.”

  Dr. Wesley snorted delicately and shook her head, but I could tell she was trying to hide a smile.

  MG’s eyes flicked to me, and I was almost certain I glimpsed worry in their pale blue depths. “So, are you done with Dani?”

  “Yes, I am.” Dr. Wesley reclaimed my gaze. “I believe the answer to your question of when you’ll get to see General Herodson would be: right now. Gabriel will take you to him.”

  4

  DANI

  MARCH 15, 1AE

  After shooting one last, thoughtful glance my way, Dr. Wesley left the sterile examination room, shutting the door with a soft click. I hopped down from the exam table and wrapped the thin robe around me more tightly. Neither the hospital gown nor the robe was very substantial, and MG was still in the room. I was feeling more than a little self-conscious.

  Gone was the flirty, self-assured MG I’d befriended in dreamland months ago. As the door had shut behind Dr. Wesley, MG had transformed
into a brooding, somber man I barely recognized. An ever-present crease had formed between his eyebrows, and he exuded tension. So, what had changed? Is he unhappy to see me? Does he not want me here? That was fine with me; I was eager to get back to my friends anyway. But I thought we were friends.

  Clearing his throat, MG handed me the canvas sack he’d brought with him. When I peeked inside, all I could think was, Hallelujah! He’d given me clothes—glorious, much more substantial clothes. Not that my current attire really counted as “clothes,” but still. Out of the bag I pulled a t-shirt, a sports bra, cotton underwear, sweatpants, and a hoodless sweatshirt—all gray—and set each item on the padded exam table. Both tops had AIR FORCE written across the chest in black, blocky letters. There was also a new pair of soft, white socks and some equally bland sneakers. It was like my birthday, post-apocalypse style.

  “Thanks,” I said, setting the empty bag on the floor. I flicked my eyes from him to the door and back. I was thankful for the clothes, but not enough to do an impromptu strip show. “Um…do you mind?”

  MG cocked his head to the side, and the crease between his eyebrows deepened.

  “I’d like to change…without an audience,” I clarified.

  A normal MG reaction would’ve included a flirty quip accompanied by a devilish smile. I received neither. Frowning, he mumbled, “Of course. Sorry,” and slipped out of the room.

  I locked the door and twisted the knob to double-check the lock before shrugging out of my thin robe and thinner hospital gown. The new clothes were generic, but clean, and far better than my previous attire. To finish the couch potato–chic look, I secured my wild auburn curls in a fluffy ponytail using a rubber band I found in one of the drawers below the counter.

  “Ready,” I almost said when I emerged from the little room into a hallway, but the word died on my lips. MG was nowhere in sight. In fact, I couldn’t see anybody at all. There were only shut doors, and faint whispers. I could hear people talking softly a short ways off.

  I concentrated on my Ability, planning to open myself to what Chris called “observation mode” to figure out where the whisperers were and whether or not MG was one of them, but I hit a mental wall. It was like the telepathic part of my brain was partitioned off, and I couldn’t access it at all. It was exactly how I felt when Jason was nulling my Ability. Genius that I wasn’t in my concussed state, it took me longer than necessary to realize there were three options: the strength of Jason’s Ability had increased massively and he was nulling everyone within a fifty mile radius of camp, Jason was nearby, or somebody else on the base had an Ability similar to his. I was betting it was the last.

  Alright, I told myself, I’ll just have to do this the old-fashioned way. Sneaking around and eavesdropping have always been two of my strongest skills, so I started sneaking and prepared to eavesdrop.

  The hallway outside the exam room was barren, extending in both directions for a noticeable distance. Moving to the left, I hugged the far wall. Ever so slowly, in absolute silence, I crept toward the voices. They were soft, muted to a whisper, and completely unintelligible and unidentifiable. I couldn’t even tell if they were male or female. There was only one solution—moving closer.

  I peeked around the corner. As far as I could tell, the conversing pair was in another exam room, just a few yards down the hall. The door was cracked open, muffling their words. As I listened, I became as still and silent as humanly possible.

  “—you sure?” one voice whispered.

  “I think so,” the other responded.

  A sigh was followed by the first voice saying, “Damn, Wes. I was expecting more of a fight. What made you agree so quickly?”

  Wes…that’s what MG called Dr. Wesley. At least I knew who I was spying on. Still, I didn’t announce my presence.

  “She’s a perfect candidate, that’s all,” Dr. Wesley whispered.

  A perfect candidate for what, exactly? That breeding program? My face scrunched in disgust.

  “Besides,” she continued, “I figured this was what you wanted when you sent her to me instead of the doctor she’d been assigned.”

  “Wow, Wes. I mean, I expected your usual, ‘Caution, Gabriel, caution,’ and ‘Patience won’t kill us, but a mistake will.’ I’m pleasantly surprised,” MG whispered, closely followed by a chuckle. “No need to glare.”

  “With you, there’s always a need to glare.” After a brief moment, Dr. Wesley said, “I need some time to prepare it, to tune it to her blood. It should be ready in about twelve hours.”

  Tune it to my blood? Tune what to my blood? I wondered. Crap! I shouldn’t have told her anything about the others. I was starting to feel a whole lot less comfortable about being in the Colony, and a whole lot more excited about meeting with that General person and bidding the unsettling place adieu. And I’d already been very excited about doing that. God, Jason and Zo had better be okay…

  “That long?” MG asked.

  “You forget, we haven’t had a new candidate for weeks,” the doctor explained. “I don’t have any of the neutralizer ready. I can’t just leave it around…”

  Neutralizer? As I listened, I was getting more and more wigged out. I considered hightailing it out of the hospital and trying to find my own way out of the Colony without MG, Dr. Wesley, or whoever this General guy was. Maybe nobody’ll even notice me leaving? But then I remembered what the doctor had said about the General—that he makes the final decision on all arrivals and departures. If nobody came or went without his approval, I was betting there were some pretty heavy measures preventing people from just walking out. Nightfall. It would be much safer to sneak out on my own after nightfall. I could wait that long.

  “It’s fine, Wes. I owe you,” MG said softly, no longer a whisper. I’d heard his voice sound like that, kind and caring, in my dreams. I knew exactly what expression he was wearing—his forehead wrinkled, and his eyebrows drawn together. “I’ll come by your office first thing in the morning to pick it up, alright?”

  “Gabriel.” The doctor said MG’s true name like it was a warning. “Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like you want to save me.”

  “Wes, I—”

  “No! I don’t deserve—”

  “Wes,” MG repeated, his tone dropping.

  “Enough, Gabriel. You have things to do, as do I. I’ll have it ready in the morning. Until then, I’d suggest you…”

  Wanting to not get caught snooping, I backed away from the juncture of hallways, reopened the exam room’s door, and shut it loudly. “MG?” I called, purposely looking in the opposite direction—down the hall to the right.

  “Dani,” he said as he rounded the expected corner. I turned to face him. “Are you ready?”

  I shrugged, aiming for nonchalance, even though I felt anything but. “Sure, now’s as good of a time as any. So where’s this General guy? On another floor or something?”

  “Uh, no. He’s in another building. It’s a short walk, about a half mile,” MG said, stopping a few feet from me.

  Hugging myself, I slouched and whined, “A half mile? But my head feels like it’s going to explode.”

  Abruptly, Dr. Wesley came bustling around the corner. “That’s what this is for,” she said, holding up a syringe. “And these,” she added, proffering a small, orange prescription bottle.

  I took a step backward. Needles didn’t bug me, but after the conversation I’d just overheard, I wasn’t letting her inject me with anything. “Uh, thanks, but I’m not big on shots.”

  She shook her head and pressed her lips together. “It’s just Toradol. You’ll thank me for it. I shouldn’t really be giving you this anyway, not with the concussion, but in your case, it’ll do more good than harm.”

  For the briefest moment, I gazed at the syringe in longing. Pain relief… And then, I backed away another step. Any crazy drug could’ve been in that plastic tube. I didn’t know what MG and the doctor were involved in, but it h
ad sounded like they were planning to induct me—involuntarily. “Like I said, I’m not a fan of needles. I can live with the pain.”

  The doctor raised one shoulder. “Suit yourself.” Handing me the prescription bottle, she said, “Ibuprofen. You can start taking them in the morning. And, whatever you do, don’t go to sleep tonight.”

  I groaned, already feeling like I was about to fall asleep standing up.

  “I mean it,” Dr. Wesley said. She gave my former dream invader a meaningful look. “Gabriel?”

  MG raised his hand, boy scout–style. “I’ll make sure she stays awake by any means necessary. I promise.”

  Again, the doctor’s lips pressed together in a thin, flat line.

  Wearing a wide grin, MG said, “And on that note, we’ll just be on our way.”

  Before following him down the hallway, I spared a few seconds to study the doctor, trying to discern what her deal was. She’d gone from standoffish to helpful to considering me as a candidate for something unknown to me and wanting to attune a neutralizer to my blood. She returned my stare, her own eyes searching. What’s she looking for?

  It wasn’t until I’d rounded two corners—one left, one right—that I caught up to MG and fell in step beside him. He slowed so I didn’t have to jog to keep up with his much longer strides. The corridors were far more vacant than any hospital, doctor’s office, or clinic I’d ever visited before the Virus, and the emptiness gave me the willies. That, and the electricity.

  Evenly spaced lights shone from the ceiling with a bright, artificial glow. They hummed. It was annoying. For several months, I’d been without electricity of any kind. There had been no overhead lights in the middle of the night, no showers spraying deliciously hot water, no microwaves, and no washing machines. My people and I had reverted back to the basics and had grown accustomed to a simpler way of life. I couldn’t get over how loud the electricity was; it buzzed incessantly, threatening to drive me insane.

  “What? No elevator?” I asked as I stepped through a doorway behind MG. Seconds later, the door thudded closed, leaving us alone in a gray- and white-toned stairwell.