Rough laughter startled me, and I glanced over to the cart to see Jason and Carlos chatting as they sat on the bench, whittling. Although I had the impression that Jason wouldn’t want me to pry around inside his head, I needed to; I needed to understand why Dani was so adamant to keep the truth from him.
Focusing beyond her swirling emotions, I searched for Jason’s. While Dani’s were easy to access, an invisible wall surrounded Jason’s, cold and excruciatingly controlled. I focused harder. It was difficult with Dani so close, her emotions so intense, but I could see and feel just enough from Jason to understand. There had been too much heartache, and too many lies and surprises to unleash another tumultuous mess on him while he was already so distraught.
Like he could somehow sense my cerebral intrusion, Jason stopped whittling for a moment and glanced over at me. The instant his knowing eyes met mine, the invisible wall protecting his mind solidified, blocking me out completely.
Standing there, with only a brief impression of who he was fresh in my mind, I felt closer to him than I probably ever would have had my Ability remained dormant. And I understood; Dani was right. Learning that our mom was still alive, that she’d made the choice to leave when Jason was a young child, and that she’d been the cause of so much death would devastate him, especially while the real me wasn’t around to help bear the weight of the discovery.
Dani clutched my hand, silently pleading with me to keep quiet as Jason glanced between us.
With a quick squeeze in return, I reassured her of my silence, at least for a while.
Harper and Chris emerged from the nearest cluster of trees, chatting amiably as they made their way back to camp with armfuls of firewood. When Harper’s eyes found mine, his relaxed expression tensed, and he hurried over to us.
“You doing okay, Baby Girl?” His expression was pinched with worry—a look I’d grown weary of over the last few days. “You’re pale.”
“I’m fine,” I said, waving his concern away. There was nothing like a resurgence of forgotten memories and pitying glances to make me feel like the most pathetic woman in the world.
As I took a few steps toward Harper and Chris, I stumbled, the bombardment of their worries, memories, and emotions throwing me off kilter. Dropping his armful of firewood, Harper jogged the final few steps between us to lend me a supporting hand.
I snickered. Yep, I’m pathetic.
“I’m okay,” I said. “It’s just my Ability…it’s a little overwhelming, and my head’s frazzled…I think.”
“So, Jason’s not…” Chris glanced over at my brother. “A little advanced notice would’ve been nice,” she grumbled, though I didn’t really understand her spike of irritation.
“It was an accident,” Dani chimed in, sounding tired. She patted Wings’s neck. “I’ll send Wings and Shadow out to pasture with the other horses, then head over and warn”—Dani’s gaze flicked to me, and her cheeks reddened as shame emanated from her—“tell the others.” After a brief moment, the sound of lazy, clomping hooves retreated behind me.
Harper helped me over to lean against a lone tree trunk growing along the edge of the pond. His memories and feelings resonated within me, and I mentally waded through the streaming information, effortlessly absorbing pieces of who he was. He was so good and confident and calm; I couldn’t help but admire him.
“You sure you’re alright, Baby Girl?” he asked, scanning me as I gripped the trunk of the tree.
“Yeah. I’m okay, really.” I blushed at being the center of unwanted attention.
With a pat on my shoulder, Chris excused herself and headed over to join Jason and Carlos. I hadn’t missed her and Harper’s silent, charged exchange before she walked away. Their growing connection was impossible to miss, especially when I could feel their mutual attraction.
Harper glanced over at Chris’s retreating form, appraising her covertly, or so he thought. When he noticed me eyeing him, he smiled, a knowing glint in his peridot-colored eyes.
“Interesting,” I said, eyebrows raised in amusement.
He nudged my shoulder with his. “You see too much,” he said and waggled his eyebrows.
I knew that was true, so all I could do was shrug. “I’m still learning how to navigate this whole Ability thing,” I said.
He winked at me. “You’ll get the hang of it.”
“And in the meantime, you’ll all avoid me like I’m a leper?” I asked acerbically. Being bitter wouldn’t help, but it was hard not to be when people were suddenly running as far away from me as possible, despite their smiles.
“Everyone just needs time, Baby Girl, including you. You’ll get the hang of it, and if not, they’ll warm up to it eventually.”
“I sure hope so,” I muttered.
Tavis’s laughter rumbled on the faint breeze, and I could hear him and Sam bantering back and forth. After a quick glance around, I spotted them walking along the other side of the reservoir, water jugs in their hands. The still water began to ripple, and I realized I hadn’t noticed the wind pick up.
“Whatever,” Sam said.
I smiled as they drew closer. Their companionable chatter was familiar, the one feeling I yearned for the most. I welcomed the sense of comfort that came with the sounds of their voices.
“Not true,” Tavis said with a laugh as they approached. “You’d never beat me if it weren’t for your Ability, mate, and that’s a fact.”
Sam sighed, his annoyance making me smile. “You’re just using that as an excuse.”
“As if!” Tavis said with half a laugh.
“Even Zoe’s a better shot than you,” Sam said. “At least she was.”
Tavis stopped mid-step, appalled by Sam’s comment. “Not even true, and your Ability gives you an unfair advantage.”
Sam laughed. “You’re just mad because you don’t know what your Ability is yet.”
“What? Grayson doesn’t know what his Ability is either.” Narrowing his eyes to slits, Tavis tried not to smile. “Maybe we’re Crazies…”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Sam said.
Looking to me and Harper, Tavis shook his head. “Can you believe this kid? He has supersonic hearing and can see a mile away, and he thinks I’m using it as an excuse.”
Unbidden, a soft chuckle escaped from my throat. “I just don’t understand why you’re not improving your archery skills, Tavis. I mean, Sam seems like a good teacher. Maybe it is you.”
“I can’t bloody believe it,” Tavis said, peering up into the sky and spreading his arms like someone might actually care enough about his aiming issues to listen. “I taught the kid everything he knows, and suddenly I’m the one who needs to practice.” He tsked and shook his head. “Cheeky little bugger.” A wolfish grin spread across his face, and he and Sam sauntered closer, stopping beside Harper and me.
Harper rumpled my hair, messing up my ponytail. “If you’re alright, Baby Girl, I’m gonna head back to camp.” He glanced at Chris again, who was still standing with Jason and Carlos, before he turned to Tavis. “Her Ability’s back online,” he cautioned, and I sighed involuntarily. My presence warrants a warning now—great.
Taking a deep breath, I tried to remind myself that while others’ memories helped me feel a little more like a member of the group, being so emotionally exposed wasn’t something most people would appreciate.
“Do you remember us yet?” Sam asked as he crouched and picked at the burs in his shoestrings.
I bit at the inside of my cheek and felt my eyebrows draw together. “No,” I admitted. “Not yet.” I didn’t bother telling him that I knew he’d won his first blue ribbon in a relay race in third grade, and that his sister, Anastasia, had been born a year and half ago, and that his father had died from the Virus right before his mother had been raped and killed by Crazies. I knew all of that, but had no recollection of him from my past. “But do you think you can work with me on my archery? From what Harper tells me, I used be a decent shot. I could use a skill or a pasti
me or…something, at least until my memories get sorted out.”
Sam peered up at me. “Yeah, we might as well.” He paused, squinting one eye as he studied me. “Do you think you’ll really get your memories back?”
Shrugging, I said, “I’m not really sure. I’m still trying to piece things together. It’s weird to see myself with everyone…to watch their memories play out like a movie, but still not actually recall any of it.”
Tavis crossed his arms over his chest and stared at me, contemplating. “Why not stop trying to figure out the past, and try embracing the way things are now? You can’t change anything that’s happened, and you have no idea how long this ‘issue’ might last. You might never be your old self again,” he said matter-of-factly.
I looked into Tavis’s inquisitive blue eyes. “I haven’t thought about it like that.”
“Well,” Sam said, “I want you to get your memory back.”
“Yeah? And why’s that?” I asked.
Sam took a deep, thoughtful breath. “For starters, you can’t hold up your part of our deal like this,” he said somberly.
“Our deal?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “You’re supposed to teach me how to draw, and I’m supposed to help you with your archery.” Sam seemed annoyed by the inconvenience of my memory loss, but I could tell he was more disappointed than upset with me.
“Well,” I ventured, “I can try—”
Sam was shaking his head before I could even finish my train of thought.
“No?”
He looked at me, a yeah-right expression on his face. “Do you even know if you can still draw?”
I feigned offense. “Well, no, not exactly. I haven’t thought to try. I can still do other things.”
“Just trust me,” Sam said.
“Well, you’re an…honest kid, I’ll give you that much. There’s no beating around the bush with you.”
Sam only shrugged again, and Tavis chuckled.
“Sam keeps things interesting,” Tavis said, his tone more affectionate than I thought he realized, and a great big smile engulfed my face. Being around them made me happy; it was a welcome distraction from the awkwardness I felt around the others.
“A girl could get used to hanging out with the two of you,” I said.
It was then that I noticed Jake and Cooper striding over from the other side of the pond. Jake’s gaze shifted between Tavis and me.
The look in his eyes sobered me instantly. There was something about him, regardless of the fact that I couldn’t remember him or the “us” I’d been told about, that made my insides flutter with anticipation. I took a step closer to him.
“Hi,” I said a little breathily. We’d barely spoken, and I always seemed to struggle with what to say to him.
Being around him made me want more than ever to have my memories back, to be able to understand the feelings I thought I could almost feel somewhere deep inside me whenever he was nearby. Or is it all just in my head? It was impossible to say, but I wished, more than was probably healthy, that one day I might know.
If we were a couple, I should just talk to him. I didn’t see any harm in that. He didn’t bite…at least not that I was aware of.
Jake’s eyes passed over Sam and Tavis to land on me, and a tight smile pulled at his lips. His dark gaze focused on me like he was trying to see inside me, trying to figure me out.
“Hey, Coop,” Sam called and shuffled over to the husky, patting the dog’s head and rumpling his scruffy neck. “Wanna play fetch?”
Jake smiled down at Sam as the boy fawned over Cooper, but I wondered what brewed beneath the surface of Jake’s composed demeanor. His eyes were telling, I just hadn’t figured out how to read them yet.
Just as I was about to push away from the tree I was leaning against, Sam jumped up to his feet, brushing his hands off on his pants. “Did you hear? Zoe’s Ability’s back.”
Jake’s smile faltered, and his gaze darted from Sam to me. “No,” he said. “I didn’t.” His hands flexed at his sides.
“Not her memory yet, but the rest of her.”
I thought I should probably talk to Jake about us before too much more time passed and the distance continued to grow between us. But just as I was about to ask him if we could go somewhere to talk, he turned and walked away, calling for Cooper over his shoulder.
Slouching back against the tree, I sighed. Or not.
5
JAKE
MARCH 28, 1AE
San Juan National Forest, Colorado
Lost in a tornado of thought, Jake swung an archaic, rusted axe, splintering the last of the firewood into stackable, burnable pieces—probably more pieces than were actually necessary. His palms were raw, but he welcomed the burn, the distraction.
The sun had just set behind the serrated mountaintops, and the brisk, evening air against his sweat-dampened skin helped take the edge off of a day filled with problematic surprises.
Jake crouched and gathered as much of the firewood into his arms as he could carry and headed over to the wood stacked on top of one of the carts. Cooper raised his head from snoozing, no doubt hopeful it was time to go lie by the campfire, where it was warm and there were plenty of people to pet him.
“Not yet, buddy,” Jake said as he unloaded the armful of wood.
Watching Zoe, wondering what the hell she was thinking, had become almost unbearable over the past week. Simply talking to her about what had happened, about them, proved harder than he’d imagined. If she wasn’t laughing with Tavis, she was with Dani learning the ropes in their new world, or Chris was prodding around in Zoe’s brain, trying to figure out exactly how much damage Clara had done. And since the blood transfusion they’d tried a few nights ago hadn’t done a damn thing to repair her shattered memory, he was beginning to lose hope that she would ever be the same.
The good things are worth fighting for, Joe, his guardian during the year after his mom died, had told him once. It was a motto Jake lived by, but now that Zoe’s Ability was back, Jake wasn’t sure fighting for her was the best thing for her. He was worried about what she might feel or see when she was around him, and he didn’t want to scare the hell out of her before she even had time to get to know him—or herself—again.
But Zoe wasn’t the only complication he was dealing with. Having Gabe and Becca suddenly back in his life was almost more than he could handle. His sister was still different, and looked at him like he was a complete stranger. And Gabe…Jake shook his head. He didn’t want to think about Gabe, which was easy enough.
As usual, his thoughts returned to Zoe. Over the months he’d known the teal-eyed, raven-haired beauty, she’d become his home. But she didn’t tease him anymore, and her maddening stubbornness and innate devotion to those she loved was nonexistent.
Resting the axe on its head, Jake let the handle fall to the ground. He exhaled and scrubbed both hands over his stubbled face.
A shadowed figure came toward him from the copse of trees a few dozen yards away. Cooper was up and running toward it before Jake even realized it was Gabe. He was carrying an armful of firewood that he let fall to the ground as he stopped in front of Jake.
Needing to put some distance between them, Jake decided it was time to call it a night, and he reached for his jacket draped over the cart.
“I need you to know something,” Gabe said quietly. Jake turned around to find Gabe crouched and leaning on the discarded axe.
Jake clenched his jaw, contemplating whether or not it would be best to simply walk away.
Gabe sighed and rested one elbow on his knee, letting his hand drape in front of him. “I know you won’t forgive me,” he said. “But I am sorry. I didn’t want any of this to happen. If I’d known what Becca was going to do…” After a short pause, he shook his head. “I did everything I could to help her in the Colony.”
“And Dani?”
Gabe let a despondent chuckle escape from his throat. “Like I had a choice? Don’t you get it? I had
to bring her in—to protect your sister.” In an instant, Gabe was on his feet. “Everything I’ve done has been to protect Becca. The General—he would have tortured her. He did torture her. If I hadn’t brought him a two-way telepath…you don’t want to know…” Seeming to deflate, Gabe let out a humorless laugh. “And poor Dani was the one to pay for my loyalty to Becca…to you.”
“Loyalty? Loyalty would have been telling us what the hell was going on in the first place, not bringing armed fucking soldiers into my house…not letting them knock me out, then disappearing and taking my sister’s body with you.” Jake gestured toward the campfire, where everyone was gathered. “What happened to Dani isn’t on me and Becca—it’s on you.”
For a moment, Gabe said nothing. “I know.”
His hopeless tone affected Jake more than he wanted it to. “How the hell did you get yourself in this mess to begin with?”
Gabe looked at Jake, his eyes silver in the moonlight. “I’d been researching Abilities for a while, but I didn’t know about the General’s plan until the Virus was already spreading. When you called and told me Becca was sick, it was right when I’d started putting the pieces together…” He looked away. “They wouldn’t let me off base without an armed escort. I came—brought them—because I wanted to help her, and I didn’t have much of a choice.”
Jake pinned Gabe in place with an accusatory glare and allowed himself to ask the one question that outweighed all others. “Did you know they’d turn Becca into a Re-gen?”
Gabe returned his glare. “No, Jake, I didn’t. I didn’t know she’d kill herself, either, or that they’d knock you out or appropriate her body.” He was breathing harder. “Do you know how I left your house that night?” He paused. “At gunpoint. I wasn’t going to leave you, not passed out…I thought you were dying, but there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t let them take Becca. I was barely able to write that goddamn note before I was escorted out.”
Out Of The Ashes (The Ending Series, #3) Page 5
