Out Of The Ashes (The Ending Series, #3)

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  “Don’t what?” she asked skeptically.

  “Just don’t judge me, okay? And don’t say anything to anyone. It’s sort of embarrassing.” I dropped the bag of supplies into the empty wheelbarrow we’d used to carry the bags of dirty laundry down to the pond. “I had a dream about Jake last night…an”—I swallowed—“intimate dream. It left me a little…distracted.”

  Sarah burst into laughter. “Is that all? Well, that doesn’t seem so bad. I probably wouldn’t have gotten any sleep either.”

  My body warmed and tingled as I remembered the sensation of Jake’s lips trailing down my neck and the heat of his touch as his fingertips drew a line between my breasts. I couldn’t help but look down at my chest, remembering…it was like I could still feel his hot breath against my skin.

  “That good, huh?” I heard her say. “Zoe?” I glanced at Sarah to find a huge smile engulfing her face. “You’re thinking about him right now, aren’t you?”

  “No,” I said in exasperation. “Of course not.”

  “Liar!” She giggled, but when she saw my mortification, she took a few steps closer and placed her hands on my shoulders. “What’s wrong with thinking about him? You’re together… it’s normal, don’t you think?”

  My head was shaking before I could stop it. “We were together, Sarah. It’s different now. Besides, I don’t remember any of it…it’s like he was with someone else, you know?”

  Sarah’s mouth quirked at the corner, and she stared at me, sympathetic. “You don’t want to be with Jake anymore?”

  “It’s not that, I just—we haven’t been together, we haven’t even held hands really. Thinking about us doing more than that is…daunting.”

  “But why? It’s Ja—because you don’t remember him. Sorry, I keep forgetting.” She waved her ignorance away. “I blame it on the pregnancy. It’s like my brain doesn’t have room for any more information or something.”

  I picked a rogue leaf from one of her flyaway curls. “It’s not that he scares me. I mean…I’m petrified around him, but that’s only because I’m completely clueless about what to do…how to act. He thinks about her when he’s around me. At least, from what I can feel. He’s really difficult for me to read.” Putting my hands on my hips, I let my head fall back and exhaled my frustration. “I feel so stupid.”

  Jake’s uncertainty around me and his apparent fear of what I might rediscover made it clear enough that there were some intense, private moments to be seen, and a part of me was secretly grateful he’d been keeping his distance. The pressure to be that Zoe made it difficult to just go with the flow and let things happen.

  “You’re just curious and nervous, Zoe. That seems normal.” A knowing smile filled her face, and her eyebrows lifted before she winked. “Just give it some more time.”

  I appreciated her attempt to lighten the mood, but her teasing wasn’t helping. I buried my face in my hands, trying to gather my thoughts. “As it is, it’s hard trying to be someone I don’t remember ever being on a daily basis. I mean, I’m not complaining. I know worse could’ve happened, but…”

  “But what?”

  “It’s like there are expectations…expectations I can’t possibly live up to. What if being with me is like being with someone else? The last thing I want is to finally work up the nerve to kiss him, or let him kiss me, only to learn he wishes I was someone else. I might be a shit kisser now.” I groaned, leaning against one of the trees. “I don’t think I’m ready for that sort of rejection yet.”

  “But it’s you, Zoe. It’s not just some other woman; it’s you. You have to remember that.”

  “Easier said than done,” I grumbled. “I just feel bad for putting him through this…”

  “It’s only been a week. Do you know how long it took you guys just to say a few cordial words to each other in the beginning?”

  I shook my head.

  She tapped her index finger on her lips. “I don’t either, actually, but it was a while,” she said. “Look, Jake cares about you…a lot. It’s obvious. You can even feel it, can’t you?” She nudged my shoulder. “He knows you’re different; we all do. Neither Jake—nor anyone else, for that matter—expects you to be the same as you were before.”

  I knew that wasn’t true—only moments ago, Sarah herself admitted to forgetting I wasn’t the old me, to expecting me to react like the old me—but I kept my observations to myself.

  “Maybe you just need to give it a little bit more time.”

  Knowing she was right, that regardless of the pressure I felt, at least some of it was only in my head, I smiled. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Thanks, Sarah.”

  She nudged my shoulder again. “Alright, let’s get back to camp. I’m ravenous.”

  As I bent down to collect the folding chair Sarah had been using for her frequent breaks, I noticed a full linen bag resting up against the side of the large rock we’d been using to place the folded stacks of clean clothes that had been drying overnight. “Um, Sarah?”

  “Hmm?” I looked over to see her wiping water from her mouth, an empty plastic bottle in her hand. “God, I love this stuff,” she breathed. “What’s up?”

  “How many bags of laundry did we have to do this morning?”

  Sarah squinted, and I could tell she was mentally counting. “Three—oh, crap.” She took a step toward me and peered over to the other side of the rock. “Crap. I knew that seemed to go by way too fast.” As if it were trained to do so, her stomach rumbled.

  “Go back to camp,” I said on a heavy exhale. “I’ll finish up here.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I dumped the contents of the half-filled bag onto the ground. “It’s fine. Go ahead. I wouldn’t want you to starve or anything.”

  Sarah smiled gratefully. “Are you sure you won’t be mad?”

  I nodded and snagged my bag of gathered supplies out of the wheelbarrow. “I got this.”

  “Alright, Zoe. Thank you. I owe you big-time.”

  “Yeah you do,” I muttered playfully, dropping the bag by the water’s edge. “Just leave me one of those chocolate bars I saw stashed in your secret hiding place.”

  Sarah’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened. “How did you…”

  Resisting a grin, I pretended to zip my mouth shut. “Just leave me a bite, would ya?”

  “Alright,” she grumbled and headed back to camp.

  I crouched down to separate the dirty shirts and socks. Although it wasn’t the most luxurious job in the world, it was a necessary task and something I could do without feeling inadequate, so I happily washed the laundry with Sarah when needed. It felt good to contribute, even in the smallest way. Plus, it gave me time to think.

  I diligently scrubbed one shirt and then another until I was finished and they were rinsed, then I moved on to the socks. Most of the time, I was around people and unable to block their invading memories and emotions; no matter how hard I tried, I’d yet to figure out how to stop sensing them.

  Although I initially thought it was exciting and useful to gain insight into the minds of the people I was surrounded by, it quickly grew bothersome. Like Dani, now I had to hold onto the knowledge that my mom loved the General—the man we were practically running for our lives to get away from. It was just one more item to add to the list of things Jason didn’t know. Plus none of my companions liked having to worry about what I was gleaning from their minds, and some even avoided me outright. Cleaning the laundry was somewhat therapeutic, and it enabled me to have time away from the others to collect my own thoughts.

  Hearing muffled conversation through the sparse trees beyond the pond, I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see Sam and Tavis emerge through a small copse of trees.

  “Zoe!” Sam waved at me. He held up a string of rabbits attached to a tether. “We caught dinner!”

  “Nice!” I called back, submerging someone’s socks into the water before squirting a blob of liquid laundry soap onto them and working the fabric clean. “You
mean we won’t starve?”

  “Not today,” Tavis answered as they sauntered over. “Oh, good, you’re cleaning my socks. I’m running low.”

  I stopped mid-scrub. “Oh, they’re yours? In that case…” I pretended to toss them into the center of the pond.

  “Such a comedian,” he said.

  Sam started toward camp. “You coming, Tavis?”

  Tavis shook his head. “I better stay here and protect my socks.” He grinned at me.

  “Alright,” Sam said. With a sigh, he trudged away, rabbit tether in hand.

  For a few moments, only the sound of the scrub brush against the cotton socks and the trickling of water as Tavis rinsed off his hands filled the morning.

  As I wrung the water from the last sock, an unexpected ripple broke at the pond’s edge, splashing me. “Jesus, Tavis. Do you have to wash your hands so enthusiastically?” I glared over to find him crouched and picking at something on the ground.

  He looked at me. “What?”

  “Nothing,” I said, shaking my head. I needed a nap to rest my addled brain.

  Eventually, Tavis wandered over to me and stared out at the cloudless sky. “The weather here is funny,” he said. “I’m used to the seasons at home. It should be getting colder, not warmer. I like it, though. I’m not much of a winter kind of guy.”

  “Really?” I said. I hadn’t thought much about it. “I think I like the cold. I especially like the mornings. Everything seems fresh and new. There’s something about the crisp water, too; it’s refreshing. Sort of awakens my senses a little.”

  Tavis made a noncommittal noise.

  “Hang these up on the line for me, would you?” I waited until Tavis turned to face me and tossed each balled-up sock at him consecutively, laughing as he juggled to catch them all without dropping any.

  “Careful, those last two socks are yours. I wouldn’t want you to have to wear them dirty.”

  He flashed me an easy smile and winked. “I’m so sure.”

  I enjoyed teasing Tavis and liked that we had so little history together…that he had so few memories of me, and that there wasn’t much I had to live up to. I liked that I didn’t have to worry about disappointing him.

  “I’m just looking out for you,” I told him.

  “Like you care,” he quipped, draping the socks over the line. I heard him swear, and when I looked over, he was shaking off a sock he must’ve dropped. “Damn it.”

  “That’s Jason’s…you better make sure it’s clean.”

  Tavis strolled closer, holding out the soiled sock.

  Shaking my head, I refused to take it and handed him the scrub brush instead. “Be my guest.” I grinned. “I’ll check to see if anything on the line is dry yet, and we can head back up to camp.”

  Tavis looked at me askance, then crouched down to grab the soap and scrub brush. “I just caught us dinner,” he grumbled.

  “And,” I countered, “you just dropped my brother’s sock in the dirt. In fact, you should probably make sure it’s extra clean…you might want to scrub it a second time, just in case.”

  “Again, such a comedian,” Tavis chuckled.

  I batted my eyelashes at him and felt a splash of cold water on my face as a result. I blinked rapidly in surprise, my mouth gaping. “Really?”

  “Sorry, I guess my aim with water is as good as my bow…but you did say you like the crisp water,” he said in a sing-song voice and flitted his own lashes.

  Smiling despite my annoyance, I tsked and shook my head. “You’re the one who doesn’t like it…” I said, splashing him back. Once…twice.

  “Alright, alright. I’m sorry!” Tavis took a few hurried steps backward, chuckling and holding his palms out defensively as he stumbled over the larger rocks scattered about. “I surrender. Just don’t make me drop the bloody sock again.” He held the sock up, still laughing.

  I nearly snorted in amusement at Tavis’s sudden change in tune. “You’re pathetic. It’s just water.”

  Hearing panting and the crunch of twigs behind me, I turned around to find Cooper running happily toward the water and Jake standing beside one of the pines, holding a piece of grass between his fingertips.

  My face heated, and I suddenly felt like I’d been caught doing something wrong. “Hey.”

  Jake’s gaze traveled from me to Tavis and back as he let the blade of grass fall to the ground. “Hey.”

  “Just finishing up with the laundry,” I said, wiping my wet hands on the front of my t-shirt. His eyes fixed on mine as I closed the distance between us. I appreciated the fact that the bright morning sun provided me the opportunity to study Jake’s features. His nose was a little crooked, and long, honey-colored lashes fanned around his amber eyes. And although I could hear Tavis moving around behind me, my attention remained on Jake’s freshly shaven face.

  “Your brother wants us to start packing so we’re ready to go after breakfast,” Jake said.

  I smiled. “Okay. I should get all my crap together.”

  I glanced back at Tavis, who was already putting my canvas bag of wash stuff into the wheelbarrow, along with a stack of the clothes that were already dry and folded on the boulder. “I’ll get it,” Tavis offered. He exchanged a quick glance with Jake, then pushed the wheelbarrow toward camp.

  Walking side by side, Jake and I followed behind him.

  “Your shirts are clean,” I said awkwardly.

  “Shadow’s fed,” he offered in exchange, and treated me to a rare smile.

  I grinned. “Thanks. Maybe I’ll get to start riding him soon. He seems to be doing a little better.”

  “Yeah, I think so,” Jake said. I could tell he was trying to figure out what to say.

  “So, what do two people talk about when one knows nothing and the other knows everything?” I asked, wondering if my nervous babble helped break the tension or only added to it.

  Jake offered me a sympathetic smile. “I don’t know everything.” After a brief hesitation, he added, “What do you want to know?”

  I thought about it for a moment, wondering which, of all my questions, I wanted to ask Jake the most. “What were you like before the Ending? I mean, what did you like to do for fun and that sort of thing?”

  He looked at me with an amused grin.

  “I know it’s probably not the question you were expecting, but I figured I’d start with the basics…”

  Leaning down, Jake pulled a piece of wild grass from the field, and we continued walking. “For fun?” He shrugged. “I traveled a lot, took a lot of odd jobs, and got into a lot of trouble instead of going to college.” Jake paused, and I could feel a sudden sadness filling him. “I came back when Gabe’s sister passed away from leukemia and decided it was time to get my act together. I needed to be there for Becca.”

  “I’m sorry about your friend,” I said. “At least you still have Becca and Gabe, I guess…” I’d seen enough of Gabe’s memories to know that was sort of a sticky situation.

  Jake nodded, and I could tell he was grateful. “I just wish I hadn’t taken so long to do the right thing. I finally found a good, steady job as a mechanic, bought a house, and figured out how to stay out of trouble.”

  “Yeah? That’s good.” I had a hard time picturing Jake getting into trouble, but then, I had no idea what I even did before the Ending. “And how was it that you managed to stay out of trouble?”

  “Reading…a lot.”

  “Oh…”

  He gave me a thoughtful, sidelong glance. “‘Oh?’” He smiled. “What were you expecting?”

  “I’m not sure, I just didn’t picture you as a reader, I guess.”

  He shrugged. “I couldn’t picture you as a gallery assistant.”

  “A gallery assistant? I can’t really picture it either.” We ambled along, Tavis a dozen yards ahead of us, rolling the wheelbarrow into camp, and Cooper exploring the sparse woods nearby.

  “I wish you could ask me a question, or rather, that I could answer one,” I said quietly
. “And I’m sorry you have to tell me all of this again.”

  “Actually, we’ve never really talked about this sort of stuff before.”

  “No? But I thought…”

  Jake shrugged. “Pasts don’t matter so much when your whole world is ripped away from you. We just weren’t like that…we didn’t dwell on the past.”

  It was hard to miss the longing in his voice. “Oh,” I said.

  “Sorry, that probably wasn’t very helpful.”

  Since he was closer to me than usual, I had an easier time feeling his emotions. I knew he was sad and hopeful and confused, which I understood and tried not to hold against him. I felt the same way.

  “Maybe one day you can tell me more about myself?” I joked, realizing how idiotic that sounded. Too bad it was true.

  “Or, maybe…” He stopped walking, and I automatically stopped as well. “Maybe we can just start over.”

  I faced him and stared into his eyes, trying to see the truth, not just feel it. “Do you want to?” I was picking up mixed signals from him, and I wasn’t really sure what my own opinion was.

  His expression turned skeptical and he searched my eyes for answers I didn’t even know the questions to. “Do you want to?”

  I thought about the dreams I kept having and how unsettling they were—how exciting and frightening and…confusing. I nodded once, nervous about what starting over entailed. Then in a bout of self-consciousness, I looked down at my feet. I didn’t want him to see the blush caused by the thought of doing all the things we’d done in my dreams.

  “You don’t seem sure,” he said, narrowing his eyes when I glanced back up at him.

  “No…I mean, I am.” I think.

  “Is it Tavis?” The question seemed to come out of nowhere. “You guys get along well. I’m not sure—”

  I shook my head. “It’s not him, not really.” Jake eyed me as I continued, “We get along great, don’t get me wrong. It’s easy being around him. He’s easy to talk to, and there’s no history to navigate, there’s no pressure…” Peering up at Jake, I tried to act more certain than I was, but failed miserably. “Who I used to be…she’s just a lot to live up to,” I admitted.

  Jake’s eyes lingered on mine before he scanned the small patch of field separating us from the others. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me,” he finally said.