The Ending Series: The Complete Series

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  27

  ANNA

  DECEMBER 15, 1AE

  The Colony, Colorado

  “Nice place,” Jason said, the words empty. He surveyed the dim entryway, clearly disinterested, then skewered Anna with a bold stare. “You’re sure it’s safe? Nobody’ll look for you here?”

  Anna nodded absently, choosing to focus on the small metal medicine case she’d set on the entryway table rather than on her intense son. She opened the case and removed the syringe within, sparing only the briefest glance for the tasteful, yet empty-feeling space. “This was Danielle’s home while she was here,” she said without thinking and removed the vial of neutralizer specially attuned to Jason.

  “It wasn’t her home,” Jason said quietly.

  Anna looked at him. “What are you talking about? Of course it was her—”

  “She might’ve lived here,” he said, “but it was never her home.”

  Anna rolled her eyes. “Semantics, Jason. I hardly think it matters whether—”

  “It matters,” he said, his voice quieting as his tone hardened.

  For a moment, Anna studied Jason’s face. She didn’t know how to talk to this man, her son. She didn’t know how to be in his presence, how to show him how much he still meant to her. She felt, just for that moment, that she didn’t know a single thing, that she was unwinding, becoming an untethered mass of cells and energy…becoming meaningless.

  Anna cleared her throat and continued preparing the injection. “So how long have you two been seeing each other?”

  “We’re married.”

  Anna stilled, closed her eyes, and drew in a deep breath. Here was yet another significant milestone in her children’s lives that she’d missed. Opening her eyes, she filled the syringe with neutralizer and turned to face Jason. “I see. Well…congratulations. She’s a remarkable young woman, and I hope you’ll tell her how much I—”

  “For fuck’s sake, you can tell her yourself when we get out of here.”

  Anna didn’t reprimand Jason for his harsh language, though she felt the instinctive urge to do so. Rather, she arched an eyebrow and gave him a pointed look.

  Jason lowered his eyes to the floor, but only for a second. With a determined stare, he held out his arm toward her. “Let’s get this over with, then.”

  Anna set down the syringe and exchanged it for an alcohol swab. Taking hold of his elbow, she jerked Jason closer to her and raised the swab, bypassing his proffered arm and going, quite literally, straight for the jugular. She swiped the alcohol swab over the side of his neck. “Sometimes the neutralizer fails if it’s allowed to circulate throughout the entire body before it reaches the brain; it becomes too diluted to be effective.”

  Jason nodded once, quickly and decisively.

  Anna discarded the alcohol swab and, reclaiming the syringe, met his eyes. “This will likely hurt far more than you expect. Free will is often seen as intangible—an idea—but it’s not. It’s a real, visceral thing. It’s the physical manifestation of consciousness, the presence or absence of choice. For some time now, you’ve been without choice, a prisoner in your own body, and you’ve grown accustomed to your chains. Breaking them always hurts.”

  Jason stared at the syringe. “It sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

  Anna stared past him, at the staircase leading to the house’s second floor. “There have been moments in my life when giving up my free will was less painful than holding on to it.” She could feel Jason’s gaze boring into her.

  “If given the chance,” Jason said, “I will kill him.”

  With a protracted blink, Anna lowered her chin in assent, her syringe hand drooping. She wouldn’t stop him.

  Jason moved closer to Anna and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Mom…” His voice was softer than before, almost gentle. “You must’ve had a thousand chances to get rid of him over the years.”

  Anna raised her eyes, meeting his.

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I—I—” Inexplicably, tears welled in Anna’s eyes. “I wanted to…so many times, but…” She wanted to look away from Jason’s intense stare, from the unexpected compassion mixed with the anger and hurt filling jewel-blue eyes that were nearly a reflection of her own. “I—” She sucked in a shaky breath. “I just—I couldn’t,” she said, feeling pathetic.

  “Why not?”

  She said the first thing that came to mind. “I’m not a killer.”

  Jason scoffed quietly. “Actually, you’re the single most prolific killer who’s ever lived. That answer’s a cop-out. Tell me why. I need to know if I can trust you.” After a brief hesitation, he added, “Do you love him? Is that it?”

  Anna’s chin trembled, and tears spilled over the brim of her eyelids, but she didn’t break eye contact with Jason as she shook her head. “You, Jason. You, Zoe, and Peter.” Lips trembling, she managed a weak smile. “I think a mother’s love might be the greatest, most terrible power on earth. There’s nothing—nothing—I wouldn’t have done to keep you safe.”

  Jason shook his head minutely, his brow furrowed. “But that doesn’t make sense. There must’ve been a way, a time when you could’ve gotten rid of him.”

  Anna raised her hand and pressed it against the scarred side of Jason’s face. “At first, I feared what the Monitors would do to you if something happened to Gregory.” She smiled bitterly. “He swore they had special orders to punish you and Zoe if he ‘met an untimely end’—his words. He didn’t like using his Ability on me; he wanted me to be with him by choice, but he didn’t understand that I had no choice. I couldn’t let anything happen to you kids. And then Peter came along, and the cancer…” She shuddered, reliving the tortuous past. “Gregory had the best connections, and staying with him gave Peter a real chance.”

  “But it didn’t matter,” Jason said, not unkindly.

  “Leukemia’s tricky. For years, he fought…but even the best medical care couldn’t keep him alive.” Anna felt her stare harden. “But I could bring him back—I did bring him back.”

  Jason sighed. “Made possible by this place…by Herodson.”

  Anna raised her chin, feeling an odd sense of defiance. “He’s a strong leader.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Jason took hold of her shoulders and shook her so hard that her teeth clicked together. “He’s a fucking dictator…a megalomaniac with god delusions. He steals people, Mom. He forced you to commit the single greatest act of genocide known to mankind. He even puts Hitler, fucking Hitler, to shame.” He shook her again, even harder. “Don’t you see? Even if it means wiping this place off the face of the earth, all the lives lost would be worth it if it rid the world of Herodson, too.”

  A wave of shame so powerful that it nauseated her washed over Anna, and she pressed her hands over her stomach. She knew all of this, knew it with every fiber of her being. She’d been telling herself all of these things for years. But somehow, hearing them in her son’s voice finally made them sink in.

  “Oh God,” Anna whispered. Her knees felt weak, her head dizzy. “What have I done?” Had Jason not been standing there, already practically holding her up with his relentless grip on her arms, she would’ve collapsed onto the hardwood floor.

  Clap. Clap. Clap. “Good show!”

  Anna and Jason looked up the hall.

  Cole continued his slow, taunting clap from the kitchen. “Oscar-worthy performances, both of you.”

  Anna and Jason exchanged a wary glance. How had he gotten in without them hearing? How much had he overheard? Did he know about the neutralizer? Anna blanched, concealing the syringe behind her back.

  “Jason, Jason, Jason…you’re not as sneaky as you think.” Cole started down the hallway, Larissa and a youthful yellow-banded soldier flanking him. Anna thought she recognized the soldier, but she couldn’t quite place him. “Our obedient hostess spotted you stealing away, Jason.” Cole frowned, then squinted his eyes in mock concern. “Did I forget to tell you I ordered the Newmans to take
turns keeping watch…just in case?”

  Jason stepped in front of Anna as Cole drew near.

  “How neglectful of me.” Cole planted himself in front of Jason, staring at the younger man’s face with reproach. “Have I waited too long to recharge your secondary commands? Is that how you slipped away from the house?”

  “Yes,” Jason said, his jaw clenching. Anna had the impression that he was speaking against his will.

  “Hmmm…I thought as much.” Cole reached out and grabbed Jason’s wrist. “Might as well remedy that now.” His eyes flicked beyond Jason to Anna and back. “What a convenient coincidence—you being her son.” Again, he looked at Anna. “So is that where you and Sergeant Miller disappeared to all those years ago? Bodega Bay?” The corners of his mouth turned down, just a little. “I’d always wondered. Mandy—Amanda Samuelson, you remember her, I’m sure—she idolized you for a while. Claimed you ‘got out,’ that you were brave enough to take back your freedom.”

  Anna sneered. “What you did to that poor girl was disgusting.”

  Cole barked a laugh. “I gave her true freedom. She was nothing, a sniveling worm, and I opened up the world to her, turned her into a goddess.”

  “You trapped her in hell,” Anna snapped, “and she had no choice but to become a monster.”

  Cole tilted his head back and forth, like he was seriously considering Anna’s words, weighing their merit. “She did grow a little full of herself at the end, if you know what I mean…” He squinted, studying first Anna, then Jason, then Anna again. “You know, I think I’ll have your own dear son kill you, Anna. It’ll be a poetic end, don’t you think? The very person you destroyed the world for, destroying you in turn? At least you’ll be able to look into your son’s eyes as you die.”

  Fury raged within Anna. How dare this bastard threaten her, threaten to do something so awful to her son. Anna wasn’t afraid of dying; she was afraid of what it would do to Jason if he were the one to kill her. She would do anything to keep that from happening. She’d take her own life first, if need be. Behind her back, she readjusted her grip on the syringe.

  “Mom,” Jason said through gritted teeth. “I can’t stop myself…can’t not do it…”

  Surprising even herself, Anna lunged at Cole. She raised the syringe and, shrieking, shoved the needle into his eye. She compressed the plunger, injecting the neutralizer into his brain before Jason managed to tear her away from Cole, protecting the man against his will.

  From her son’s restricting hold, Anna watch Cole fall to his knees, his hands hovering around the syringe sticking out of his eye and his mouth opened in an endless, ear-splitting scream. For seconds that felt like minutes, she watched him suffer, listened to him scream, feared it might not be enough.

  Until, in the blink of an eye, Cole’s cry cut off, and his entire body relaxed. He fell to the side, his head hitting the edge of the bottom stair with a dull thwack. Thankfully, he didn’t move again after that.

  Larissa was the first to speak. “Is he…”

  Jason knelt down beside Cole’s body and pressed his fingers to the man’s wrist. “He’s dead.”

  Anna took a long, steadying breath as she attempted to process what had just happened. What she’d just done. Was it even possible?

  A small, relieved smile parted her lips. Cole was dead. He was dead, and Anna had killed him. And now she and Jason and Peter could run away from this hell. She would finally be free.

  “I…” The young soldier who’d been with Cole looked around the entryway, utterly lost. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

  Without warning, Jason stood and took two steps toward the yellow-band, then knocked him out with a single strike to the jaw.

  “Jason!” Anna shrieked.

  “Can’t have him running out and alerting anyone to what’s been going on,” he said, breathing harder than usual.

  A moment later, Larissa rushed toward Jason and fell to her knees awkwardly, only partially avoiding the unconscious man’s legs. “Forgive me!” She took hold of one of Jason’s hands, but he pulled it out of her grip. Not to be put off, the desperate woman flung herself at his leg. “I didn’t want to do any of it, I swear! I’m so sorry about what I did to your wife, but I did what I could to help her, I did.” She looked up at Jason, eyes red and cheeks damp. “Cole wanted to kill her, but I convinced him to let her live, to let me practice my Ability on her instead.”

  Jason looked down at her, apathetic. “Why should I care?”

  The woman sniffled. “Don’t leave me here, please. Let me come with you?”

  “Why?” The single word was harsh, but Jason’s face was open, curious. “You could go anywhere, be anything without anyone being the wiser. Why do you want to come with us?”

  “You’ve made a home,” the woman said without hesitation. “You and your people, I—” She averted her eyes. “I saw them in your memories. I saw your home…on a farm…the happiness.” She smiled wistfully. “It’s like heaven. I think your memories of that place are the only things that have kept me sane over the past few weeks.” After a several-second pause, the woman looked up at Jason and Anna. “I know you’re planning on leaving. I can help you.”

  “How?” Jason asked.

  “I can fly. A plane, I mean. I can fly us away from here.”

  Jason scoffed. “With what plane?”

  The woman shifted her haunted stare to Anna, who cleared her throat and met Jason’s doubtful glare. “We have several small jets and helicopters at the ready at all times, just in case our evacuation is in order. Especially since the uprising…”

  Jason eyed Anna for a long moment, then nodded. “Alright, Larissa. Let’s do this.” He looked at Anna. “Where’s Peter?”

  “He’s at home,” Anna said, her heart sinking. “Gregory won’t be leaving for the office for another hour or two. We’ll have to wait.”

  “We don’t have time to wait,” Jason snapped.

  “We won’t have to.” Collecting herself, Larissa stood and smoothed her hands down the front of her cargo pants. Slowly, she raised her eyes to look at Anna and smiled wickedly. “Let me take care of General Herodson, sugar. He won’t even know we’re there.”

  “No,” Jason said. “He’ll know we’re there. He’ll know I’m there.” He looked at his mom, his blue eyes grayed and flat in the darkness. “He’ll know who’s killing him.”

  28

  ZOE

  DECEMBER 15, 1AE

  Location Unknown

  I awoke slowly. My mouth was dry. My tongue felt swollen. I could barely move. When I tried, it was like I could feel every single sinewy tendon, every weak muscle that seemed to be screaming, but I wasn’t sure why. My mind was murky.

  Opening my eyes, I let my surroundings settle into focus, and I tried to dust off the cobwebs of deep sleep. But I was so tired…

  Shadows flickered above me, and I thought about the group campfires that had kept my friends and me safe and comfortable all those nights of traveling. All those nights…all those days of nonstop work and exhaustion, and none of it compared to this feeling.

  Briefly, I thought I’d fallen asleep beside a fire, on an unfortunate mound of gravel and debris. But I wasn’t warm; I was cold. I was in a bed and there was no sky above me, but a ceiling…and walls surrounded me. Walls I didn’t recognize. At first.

  It all started coming back to me—the strange house, the man who wanted my blood, the disfigured woman who was less than a shell of someone who had died a long time ago.

  I gasped and sat up. This time my wrists weren’t tied to the headboard, but still to each other, and I could feel a rope too tight and twisted around my ankles beneath the blanket that covered me. My head was pounding and heavy, and all I wanted to do was disappear and sleep.

  But a faraway thought told me that I needed to get away. I needed to run.

  Groggily, I focused on my bound wrists. I need to run—

  “Don’t even think about it,” a gruff voice murmur
ed beside me. Slowly, I looked to my right to find Carl sitting against the wall beneath the boarded-up window. He seemed to be a constant fixture in the room; he was always there, always drinking. The dancing light of a candle flame made his face appear more drawn and sickly than I remembered. His face was still gleaming with sweat, but his eyes were more sunken in, more hollow.

  Knowing I didn’t have the strength to fight, to move—to think, really—I fell back against the mattress and instantly regretted it. “Shit,” I hissed, holding my forehead as I squeezed my eyes shut. The wound in my arm was a dull ache compared to the pounding in my head. “You drugged me.” My voice was scratchy from disuse.

  Lifting my bound hands once more, I touched the side of my face, where Randall’s palm had collided with my jaw. It was still tender. When I opened my eyes again, I saw the marks. Shadows of what I imagined were newly formed bruises covered the inside of my arms. I wanted to cry as I thought about how much blood they’d taken. “How long have I been…” I whispered, mostly to myself.

  Carl grunted. “I figured chloroform was better than what Randall had in store for you.” He leaned his head back and took a swig from a pint bottle; the liquor was amber-colored this time, like whiskey or rum. He was trying to forget something—who he was and what he’d done, I assumed—and chase his demons away. Good. I hoped that meant he’d get sloppy.

  But as much as I yearned and prayed to be free of this life-sucking place, I thought exhaustion might prove to be my greatest adversary. The thought of moving much at all made me feel sick to my stomach. I blinked a few times and then squeezed my eyes shut, willing the debilitating mist in my head, the heavy, invisible burden on my body, to expire. I needed to be stronger than this. I needed to think, to move. I needed to outsmart Carl, and I couldn’t do that if I was unconscious.

  “He doesn’t like it when they talk,” Carl said quietly and mostly to himself.

  They… Although my senses were dull and sluggish, a shiver still seemed to shimmy its way up my spine as I recalled the list.