The Ending Series: The Complete Series

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  My eyes popped open, and I felt my face pale a little. I was still getting used to Peter’s presence, both in my mind and physically as he stood beside me. His dull, stone-gray eyes were haunting and curious all at once. And as peculiar as he was, he intrigued me. Since first laying eyes on him, I hadn’t been able to keep my mind from wandering to his or my eyes from seeking him out.

  “And why do you think that?” I asked, shelving my indecision. I wasn’t sure how I felt about Peter yet—if I trusted him. His Ability was a sponge, and I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of one person being able to do a little bit of everything that we could, no matter how unassuming he seemed. And then there was the lingering imprint of his mind in mine—the one that had been a part of me for so long it was now uncannily familiar.

  Peter shrugged and sat down beside me on the rusted tailgate. He stared at the members of our group as they milled around and engaged in stilted conversations. His gaze landed on our mom and Gabe, who were speaking under the cover of one of the jet’s narrow, cream-colored wings.

  “There are so many of you with strong Abilities,” Peter said. “So we’ll be safe.” Peter thought about his answer a moment longer. “And my mom can do anything if she has the proper motivation. So, like I said, it’s a good thing we’re all together.”

  I scoffed. “All of these people suffered because of our mom and her proper motivation,” I reminded him, my gaze landing on my dad. He was lost in his own world. I could feel his reeling thoughts. And his eyes seemed to continuously float to my mom. “Her presence affects everyone here.”

  Peter was silent, like he was considering my words, measuring and processing them, for the first time. The familiar hoot of an owl echoed off in the distance before he spoke again. “Maybe she can help make things better.” I could feel his eyes on me before he turned his attention back to the group. “I’ve seen her memories,” he continued quietly. “She’s suffered more than you know for us…all of us. No matter what you think.”

  Wondering if Peter really and truly realized the severity of her decisions, I turned to him. “That’s what happens when you create a deadly pandemic, Peter.” It wasn’t bitterness that harshened my tone anymore, but honesty. “You don’t get to do something like that and live without any repercussions.”

  Peter stared at me. I wasn’t sure if it was offense or confusion I saw in his narrowed, moonlit eyes. “She’s given up everything for the three of us. I think she deserves to be happy, if possible.”

  Part of me agreed with Peter. That same part of me that still yearned for the mom I never had. Having my family together was a dream come true, but the implications of having my mom back were etched on everyone’s faces: the way Sanchez and Harper cast sidelong glances, and how Jake’s and Biggs’s shoulders tensed when she walked by them… My dad’s eyes softened, and he was distracted again, which worried me the most. If she left him again—left us—my dad would be far more than broken, no matter how noble she believed her reason to be this time.

  And as for Jason, it was hard to tell. His eyes constantly flicked up the strip, toward the airport entrance as we waited for Chris and the horses to arrive. He was antsy, ready to get back to the farm, back to Dani, that much was obvious. I withheld a smile as I imagined what his response would be when Dani told him she was pregnant. Although I knew they’d been speaking telepathically almost constantly since Dani had been able to lock onto our minds, I also knew, with absolute certainty, that news of the baby was something Dani would want to deliver in person.

  “Are there many people who have had babies?” Peter asked, and I let out a despondent breath. So this is how it feels to have someone lurking around in your head. I wrapped my arms across my chest, too fatigued to care too much, and leaned back in the bed of the truck, every one of my muscles screaming at me. Though I’d tried to stay out of people’s minds, or at least had kept my observations to myself, apparently I was an open book for Peter to peruse.

  “How long?” I asked him. “How long have you been in my head, following me?” I tried to think back to the first time I’d felt something off inside my mind, tried to pinpoint the moments I’d felt the most unsettled. But it seemed a frequent feeling that had rarely relented over the years. A couple weeks ago, I’d thought the dreams, at least initially, were a result of my dad withholding some majorly scarring memories. But now? I recalled feeling a strange presence when I went to sleep sometimes when I was younger, and even now it sometimes happened, feeling unnatural and uninvited but surprisingly comfortable.

  The steady echo of hooves resounded in the distance, along with what sounded like wagon wheels clanking and bouncing over uneven asphalt. Within the next few minutes I knew excitement and chatter would ensue, so I braced myself for the hubbub of a long-awaited homecoming.

  I sat up, my legs dangling from the tailgate. “So? Why were you in my mind?” I prompted again.

  Peter shook his head and smiled a little. “You were in mine.”

  I chuckled, baffled and almost entertained by the revelation. “Of course I was,” I mumbled. “I don’t get it,” I said and brushed off a piece of crusted mud from my jacket. “I’ve been having strange dreams about my mom for a long time,” I thought aloud. “A featureless woman, calling for me, scaring the shit out of me, even though I knew—wanted it to be her. And now”—I looked at Peter—“I wonder how much of it had to do with you.”

  Peter’s eyes narrowed. “If my dreams were anything like they are now, I can’t always shut you out of them, sort of like our minds, or maybe our Abilities, were always linked in some way. I can find your mind now too, even when I’m not sleeping. That’s how I knew where to find you.” His voice was distant. “I called you the sad girl…you were always so scared in your dreams, at least that’s what I’ve gathered from Mom’s memories. I don’t actually remember much of it myself because, you know…” Peter shrugged. He was a Re-gen, so I knew his memories were limited at best.

  Briefly, I wondered if I’d gotten things mixed up in my head, that it wasn’t really the faceless woman reaching for me, but Peter’s mind instead. We were both quiet a moment, trying to put the pieces of our childhood nightmares together. Finally, I gave up, at least for now, and lifted a shoulder. “It’s got to have something to do with Mom. My Ability blocker, maybe? Gabe or Mom might be able to figure it out.” Peter’s head bobbed in agreeance.

  As the sound of the wagon drew closer, Jason, my dad, and a few of the others started gathering up what few things we had with us. Just as I decided I should probably climb off the truck and help, I thought of something. “Hey, Peter?” I said, turning to face him again. “Why did you start trying to talk to me after all these years? I mean, I’ve never heard your voice in my head before, at least, not that I can remember. Why are things so different now?”

  Peter licked his lips and his eyes skirted to our mom, who was talking to Harper, and my gaze followed. “Mom’s been worried about me a lot lately. We’ve been doing some tests, a lot of them. I’m different now. I can do things like that, I guess.”

  I tried not to let the sympathy I felt show. “Do you feel better?”

  Peter picked at the chipping white paint on the tailgate. Pursing his lips, he nodded. “But I’m not sure how long it will last.” He glanced at our mom and said in a lower voice, “I haven’t said anything to my mom, because it makes her sad.”

  His longing for a sense of normalcy was obvious. “At least you’re here now,” I said, suddenly earnest to give him hope. I’d seen the desperation and disappointment on too many Re-gen faces back at the farm when they thought they couldn’t be saved from degeneration. “We don’t have laboratories and electro machines, but we have a lot of strong Abilities, like you said, and a settlement full of Re-gens who have gotten better—who can help you get better.”

  “Thanks,” Peter said, though I wasn’t sure he believed me. “I’m just happy we’re away from that place—that my mom’s here now, with you all.” Peter straightened, and I alm
ost thought I could sense anger radiating from him. “You don’t know the things my da—he made her do, Zoe. The things she’s had to go through.”

  Seeing a flash of his memories—of the atrocities Peter had gleaned from my mom’s memories—I looked away, focusing on the shadowed outline of horses and the cart that came into view instead.

  Harper walked over to us. His aura was bright yellow, and his eyes surveyed me. “How are you feeling, Baby Girl?” Fingers under my chin, he tilted my face up to examine me.

  “I’m better,” I said, though I was still a little weak. “But if you pull out your penlight, I might lose it.”

  Chuckling, he winked at me. “I want you to eat another one of these,” he said and pulled a granola bar out of his back pocket. “You’re still too shaky for my liking.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I promised and unwrapped the granola bar. “Really, I’m feeling better.” I took a bite. It was salty and sweet, and tasted surprisingly good given how stale it was and the expiration date.

  “When we get back to the farm, after you get cleaned up, I’d like you to come to the infirmary,” Harper said, his eyes shifting to Peter, then back to me. “Both of you.”

  Glancing at Peter, I answered for both of us. “We will, H. I promise.” Peter gave Harper a slight nod, but said nothing.

  In true Harper fashion, he leaned forward and kissed my forehead. His concern and relief and exhaustion were unignorable. “As soon as we’re ready to go, we’ll get you settled in the cart.”

  As Harper strode away, Chris brought the cart to a stop a couple dozen yards away, and she was all smiles and tears in the moonlight. Shadow, Cookie, Jason’s unnamed horse, Brutus, Poppy, and a couple of the other horses came to an anxious stop behind her. I couldn’t help but smile, happy she was finally here, though my heart dropped a little at not seeing Dani sitting beside her, even though I’d known she wouldn’t be coming. Becca’s prophecy had shackled Dani to the farm regardless of her desire to leave, at least until the baby was born.

  Shadow’s head bobbed and white puffs of breath filled the air around the horses as they snorted and pawed, catching their breath. I grinned, happy to see Shadow. I wondered if he’d even noticed that I’d been gone. I couldn’t ask him like Dani could, but that was okay. My connectedness to Peter, my bond with a boy—my brother—whom I’d never met before tonight, seemed strangely similar to what I imagined Dani’s bond might be with Wings and Jack. It was a connection I couldn’t turn off, at least not yet. Peter and I were like two tin cans attached by an unsnippable string.

  I was about to climb off the tailgate when I noticed my mom coming over to us. She passed Jake, who carried a duffel bag filled with all of our surviving weapons and belongings from the accident, and they exchanged a long, drawn-out gaze. I could feel his anger toward her and knew he was just barely holding back all he wished he could say to her, even though he wasn’t sure exactly what it was or what he hoped to accomplish. And my mom knew it.

  She continued toward Peter and me, Jake’s eyes following her retreating form. I watched his jaw clench in the gray-blue night.

  My mom scanned me briefly, head to toe, then looked at Peter. “Sweetheart,” she said, “it’s time to gather your things.” She ran her fingers through his dark, longish hair.

  My insides twisted a bit at the endearment in her voice, at her motherly touch. I tried not to let it sadden me. “I called you the sad girl…” Peter’s words resonated more deeply than I’d realized.

  Peter jumped off the tailgate with ease and, after my mom gave me a small, timid smile, they walked back toward the plane.

  Finally tearing my gaze from her, I noticed Jake walking over to me, a juice box in his hand. I chuckled softly, though it was a tad frail-sounding. I hated feeling so pathetic. “This sucks.”

  “Just drink it,” he said, amusement in his tone. “Doctor’s orders.”

  “Like I told Harper—I feel better.” The drugs were leaving my system. If anything, I was still in a little bit of a shock from all that had happened in the last few hours. “What I really need is a shower.” I took a sip from the juice box. “Yum, apple juice,” I said dryly, though it did taste good despite my general dislike for it.

  “That’s Grade-A,” Jake teased. “Not even expired yet.”

  “Oh?” I smiled. “You sure know how to win a girl over.”

  With a heart-stopping smile, Jake sat on the tailgate beside me and tucked some of my dirty hair behind my ears.

  I leaned my face into the palm of his hand, my eyes closing of their own accord against his bone-thawing heat. I’d missed him, his touch, the sound of his voice.

  “Zoe,” he said, and I knew what question was coming; I could see it in his mind. “Did—”

  “No,” I said fervently, “they only took my blood. That was the only thing they cared about.”

  Jake’s shoulders sagged as some of the tension left his body, and his eyes shifted to the green sleeves of my jacket, to the bruises hidden beneath the leather.

  “That’s all they cared about,” I quietly repeated. And it was true. I hadn’t been a person to Randall, only a blood bank.

  I vaguely heard Chris talking to the others as Jake’s thumb brushed the side of my face, giving me solace. “You’re with me now,” he said, reassuring us both.

  I thought about the first time I’d awoken to find Carl standing with me in an unfamiliar room, and suddenly the whole experience started to feel more real. My vision blurred and my chest tightened. I pictured Tavis’s bloodless face. “I thought you were all dead.” I could hear the fear in my voice, and I shut my eyes. Jake pulled me against him. “I thought that was how things were going to end. After everything…I was so angry…”

  “But they didn’t,” he said, his voice assertive and low. “And thanks to your mom and Peter, we found you. And we have Jason back.”

  Gently, I pulled away from him and wiped the tears from my eyes. “I know this is hard for you,” I said. “Her, being here. I wish things weren’t so complicated.” I exhaled. “I wish you could meet my parents under normal circumstances.” I tried to laugh, but it was riddled with unease and exhaustion.

  Jake offered me a weak smile. “The truth is, Zoe, I don’t know how I feel about all of this, but none of it matters.”

  I frowned. The breeze picked up, and I wrapped my arms around myself.

  “Of course it’s not easy.” He glanced over at Becca, talking to Peter and my mom. “Re-gens, Crazies, Clara…all of it’s because of her.” Jake looked down at the asphalt a moment before his eyes met mine again. I could feel his thoughts churning around inside his head as he tried to make sense of them all. “But it’s because of her that I’ve been able to save you, that I even met you in the first place. I’m not sure I would’ve otherwise.” He let out a ragged breath.

  I’d never thought about his regeneration, and what seemed like our destiny, in that way before.

  “So,” he continued, “I guess it’s not as easy as I thought it would be to hate her.” Jake took both of my hands in his, not knowing how happy it made me to hear him say that. “And if it weren’t for Peter this time—” His voice broke. “Yeah,” he exhaled and rubbed his forehead. “It’s a lot to process.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him to me. I wanted him close, needed him closer.

  “Bizarre doesn’t quite cut it anymore,” he muttered, and I smiled against his neck, choking back a relieved, hopeful sob.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, my grip tightening around him. “For not hating her. For not giving up on Jason—for not giving up on me…” I tried and failed not to picture where I would be now, had Jake and everyone not shown up.

  “It looked like you had things under control,” Jake said lightly, though I knew it would take him a long time to move past the utter fear and borderline panic the last few days had burrowed inside him.

  “I hesitated,” I said, angry with myself. “I felt bad for him.” I cleared my throat.
“Besides, I’m not sure how far I would’ve made it before Randall found me and brought me back.” I felt my eyes clouding with tears again, recalling how reluctant I’d been.

  Jake pulled away, pinning me with his piercingly determined eyes that had saved me in more ways than he would or could ever know. “You’re alive, that’s all that matters. You’re with me and your family. You’re going home, and you’ll get to see Dani and Sam and…” Once Jake realized the implications of his words, he brushed a stray tear from my cheek. “Harper said Sam’s doing okay. You don’t have to worry about him.”

  Jake’s gaze was suddenly vacant as he peered past me, his mind elsewhere. “We buried him,” he said, almost like a confession. I saw images of Tavis’s lifeless body and a freshly covered grave at the base of a giant oak tree. Its branches were naked and sleeping, though I knew they would be green and protective in the months to come.

  I nodded, though I felt like weeping.

  “We’re ready for you,” Jason said, coming up to us. His lips pursed and his eyes fixed on me, but he said nothing else.

  I wiped the remaining dampness from my eyes and slid off the tailgate with Jake’s help.

  “I’ll load up our things,” Jake said, leaving me and Jason to walk toward the cart and horses.

  “Are you sure you don’t want a transfusion when we get back?” Jason asked. He took my hand in his so I could use him for some added balance as we walked toward Chris, who was making out with Harper at the cart.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ll be fine. If I was trying to run a marathon or something, maybe, but I think I just need some good ol’ rest. And real food.” I groaned, thinking about food. “Maybe Chris will make me one of her apple pies.” I grinned, trying to reassure him, but it was lost upon him. Jason was distracted, and I knew his thoughts were probably of Dani. “So…are you excited to finally get home?” I asked him, unable to prevent a small, knowing smile at what was to come.

  “Yeah,” he said, but there was concern in his voice.