After the Ending

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  “My brother,” I said distractedly. Pack and go, was all I could think.

  I looked around in a frenzy, though it didn’t take long—there weren’t many places to look in the tiny, two-bedroom home. Think, Zoe. What do we need?

  “Zoe?” Sarah asked.

  Running to my room, I tried to explain, “Um, he said there’s a safe place for us to go, but it’s in Colorado. We’ve gotta figure out a way to get there.”

  “But how?” Sarah was standing in my doorway, wide-eyed and expecting an explanation.

  “I don’t know. We could steal a car.” I dumped the contents of my already packed bag onto the bed.

  Sarah wrapped the blanket more tightly around her. “Do you know how to do that?”

  “I have no idea, but I’ll figure something out. Who knows, maybe we’ll find one with keys.”

  Socks, iPod, phone charger, underwear, towel…I searched through my room, hoping I wouldn’t forget anything important. In my haste, I didn’t think about the house or what I was leaving behind. All I could think about was getting to Jason in Colorado.

  Before Sarah could question me any further, someone started pounding on the front door. Startled, we looked at each other. I brought my index finger to my lips and cautioned Sarah to stay quiet before I tiptoed to the living room. Upon hearing a dog whining on the front porch, I moved slowly toward the peephole and peered out.

  “What the—”

  1 SENT TEXT MESSAGE:

  To: D

  Jason called. He’s coming for you. Hang on, D!

  December 11, 2:30 AM

  5

  DANI

  I can’t breathe, I thought frantically. I was being constricted, pressed into something warm and hard and sort of lumpy. And I wasn’t lying down anymore. And I thought I might die if I didn’t get a drink of water.

  “Go make yourselves busy,” a woman ordered. I didn’t recognize her voice. “Now!”

  The footsteps I heard sounded like a somber stampede. The front door opened, and after several long seconds, shut quietly.

  I still couldn’t breathe. At my pathetic whimper, the squeezing instantly relented. Suddenly, I was lying back down on the cushy couch, staring up into a man’s angular, tear-streaked face. With its chiseled features and eyes like brilliant blue topaz, he could have been an ancient, grief-stricken warrior.

  Jason.

  I’m dead, I admitted. Jason never cries. He probably doesn’t know how to cry.

  His eyes widened, showing more whites than usual, before he scooped me back up and crushed me against his camouflage parka. I sat limply in his arms as he held me like I was a little girl freshly awake from a nightmare.

  “Jason,” I grunted. “I…can’t…breathe.”

  “Sorry.” He loosened his hold just enough to keep me from suffocating and murmured, “I thought…Dani…You didn’t look alive…”

  With the newfound ability to breathe, I imagined sitting there forever. I was nestled safely in Jason’s arms and listening to him whisper softly while I remembered what it was like to be alive. I’m not dead.

  Briefly, I tried to recall how I’d come to be on the couch, feeling like a decrepit corpse. The memories seemed trapped, guarded by a fragile sheet of ice. I prodded the mental block gently and recoiled at the turmoil that immediately burst to life in my chest. Thankfully, the pain faded as I shoved the memories back under the thin barrier.

  After a few minutes, Jason had regained his composure. He picked me up and carried me into the bathroom with my dog trailing close behind.

  “Thanks. I can take it from here,” a pretty, blonde woman told him briskly, and I was transferred to her deceptively strong arms. “I’m Chris.” She smiled, reassuring me like a mother to a sick child, as she set me carefully on the tile floor. “I’m going to help you wash up,” she explained, already peeling off my soiled pajamas. “You’ll feel like a new woman when I’m done with you.”

  The ruined clothes were promptly tossed into the wastebasket beside the toilet, and with equal efficiency, I was deposited into the steaming bathwater. Only after I was clean did I acknowledge the acrid stench coming from the wadded-up pajamas in the little garbage can. My pajamas. Oh…that’s disgusting…

  Embarrassment washed over me. Jason had touched me—held me—in those foul clothes. Not only had he smelled everything my body had expelled during the two days I’d spent passed out on the couch, but he probably had it all over him.

  Sometimes, the smallest, least important thing could light the fuse leading to the mounds of emotional dynamite piled in my head. With mortification as the spark, waves of despair and horror exploded in my chest. Cam! He’s dead…

  Sitting in the bath, I began to cry. Chris let me work through it, holding my hand as I poured out gallons of grief. She seemed to be pulling the gut-wrenching feelings out of me, cleansing my heart and mind just as she was cleansing my body. It felt like I cried for an eternity.

  Eventually, sporting fresh pajamas and damp hair, I was again settled in the living room but on an unfamiliar couch.

  “This isn’t my couch,” I said to no one in particular. I watched Jack as he stared forlornly at the clean kitchen floor. Someone had swept up the mountain of kibble and locked it away.

  “Yes, well, yours was…unsuitable. We swapped it with one from an apartment down the hall. It’s not like they’ll be needing it anymore,” Chris explained, setting a glass of orange juice and a generous plate of breakfasty goodness on the coffee table in front of me.

  I stared at the food but didn’t touch it, even though my stomach grumbled in need. Cam usually made me breakfast. “What d’you mean? Why won’t they need it?”

  Chris halted her efforts to arrange a fuzzy blanket around my legs and looked at me with sharp, sky-blue eyes. Her expression melted into sympathy before she spoke. “Because they’re dead, hon. Most people are. I thought you knew.”

  “I…,” I tried to speak, but my throat caught after the first sound. I shook my head.

  Satisfied that I was covered and warm, Chris moved to the other side of the coffee table to sit in a large recliner—another item from the furniture shopping spree in my neighbor’s apartment.

  “It was that damn Virus…we all had it…weeks ago,” Chris said, gesturing around the room even though it was empty of anyone but us. “Several days back, everyone in the world seemed to be infected. Now pretty much everyone’s dead. The rest are like you and me—Survivors. But as far as we can tell, we’re in the extreme minority.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said, confusion creasing my brow. “This is impossible.”

  “Not impossible. Just improbable…and really, really awful.” She pointed to the plate of eggs and potatoes on the coffee table. “Eat up, hon. You’ve got to get your strength back before we leave.”

  Obediently, I moved the plate to my lap and asked, “Who’s ‘we,’ and where are ‘we’ going?” I took a tentative bite of scrambled eggs and wondered if it was the best thing I’d ever eaten. Suddenly terrified of being left behind, I added, “Am I part of ‘we’? And what about Cam?”

  Chris opened her mouth to answer just as Jason stepped out from Callie’s room and into the hallway leading to the living room. He gestured to the bedroom, “Why don’t you get some rest in there, Johnson? It’s been a long day.” It wasn’t a question.

  Chris hesitated, shooting an anxious glance in my direction.

  “Don’t worry about Dani,” he reassured her, “I’ll take care of her.” A slight smile accompanied the warmth in his voice.

  Chris stood and stalked across the living room, pausing when she reached the beautiful, imposing man. She was surprisingly menacing for such a pretty, motherly woman.

  I busied myself with eating but still paid close attention.

  “Don’t try any of your usual shit with her,” Chris hissed. “She’s been through hell. I know you’re incapable of resisting a pretty girl, especially a vulnerable one, but I swear…”

&nbs
p; “What? You think you can take me?” he asked frostily.

  She glared at him for a long moment before stomping to the bedroom and slamming the door.

  Quietly, I finished the food. I attacked the glass of orange juice next, alternating between sipping through the neon green straw and staring at the floating flecks of pulp. Jason took Chris’s seat, and I focused twice as hard on the juice.

  “Dani?” His voice was thick with concern.

  With the straw still between my lips, I responded, “Hmmm?” My heart froze when I glanced up, and the straw fell from my mouth.

  Every inch of Jason exuded wary remorse like he’d done something horrible and was afraid to tell me. Or was about to.

  “You’re not taking me with you, are you? You’re just gonna leave me here,” I accused with surprising steel.

  “What? Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I’m taking you with me.”

  I released a relieved breath. “Oh…well I just thought…I guess I don’t really know what I thought…” He’s taking me with him! I won’t be left alone! “Thanks, Jason.”

  “Yeah, of course,” he said. “But the thing is, you need to know…” He hesitated, searching my eyes across the three-foot distance between us. “You need to get some rest. You look exhausted.”

  I was confused, knowing he’d been about to say something entirely different. Regardless, I said, “I need to talk to Zoe.”

  “The phones went down a little bit ago.”

  “I’ll email her,” I countered.

  “After you’ve rested.” He sounded like he was used to being obeyed.

  “I’ll do it now.”

  “No. Later.”

  Impatiently, I set my empty glass on the table and tossed my arms up in exasperation. “Are you serious? Why are you being such a…”

  His eyes narrowed. “Such a…what?”

  “Nothing.” I hastily changed tactics. “Please, Jason. I’ll sleep so much better if I can just let her know that I’m alive.”

  “She knows you’re alive. I told her…before the phones crapped out.”

  Closing my eyes, I took a deep, calming breath. “I am exhausted. But…I’ll rest better if I tell her I’m okay. I can’t explain it…I just need to do this. It’ll only take a few minutes—I promise—and then I’ll behave like a nice, cooperative little patient.”

  “Fine,” he said and broke our magnetic stare. “You have ten minutes. Then you’re resting, even if I have to hold you down.”

  I smiled at him, reveling in my victory. I wasn’t going to let Jason order me around like one of his soldiers.

  “Thanks, Jason. And, um, thanks for coming here. I probably wouldn’t have made it if…you know.” Examining his appearance, I noted the clean fatigues and missing coat. Hesitantly, I added, “And I’m sorry about getting you all dirty earlier.” I looked away, embarrassment coloring everything above my shoulders.

  Jason reached across the table and placed his hand under my chin, turning my face toward him. He held my eyes and murmured, “It doesn’t matter.”

  Date: December 11, 9:30 PM

  From: Danielle O’Connor

  To: Zoe Cartwright

  Subject: To My Savior

  I’m alive. Cam isn’t. Jason’s here. You probably saved my life by sending him to me. I’m feeling better, but I need to rest for about a year. I’ll fill you in later. I can’t even express how much of a difference it makes to have your brother here. Thanks, Zo.

  Date: December 13, 6:00AM

  From: Danielle O’Connor

  To: Zoe Cartwright

  Subject: Your brother’s really bossy

  Zo,

  I’m still alive. Sorry it’s taken me a few days to write. I slept for the past day and a half, literally. I just woke up an hour ago and had to barter with Jason over access to my computer. My computer! Anyway, here’s what happened...

  Two nights ago, I awoke in Jason’s arms. Apparently I’d been breathing so faintly that he’d thought I was dead. He was crying, Zo. Real tears! Who knew the guy had it in him? One of his crew members, a woman named Chris, cleaned me up and fed me. Makes me sound like a baby. Or a dog.

  Anyway, your brother brought 12 other people with him from his base, but I’ve only met Chris so far. I guess the base was on lockdown when they left, so they had to grab some vehicles and go. They managed to take two Humvees.

  Jason said we’re leaving tomorrow morning. We’ll be heading down the coast to Bodega Bay to check on your dad and Grams (and some other people). But, because we’ll be stopping along the way to check on those other people, it’ll take us a little while to get to BB. I’m not sure what the trip will be like. Is there gas? Do we use money? How many people are dead? How many are alive? Is it dangerous? I haven’t had a chance to ask Jason or Chris any of this; either I’ve been asleep or they’ve been busy.

  After BB, we’re heading toward that base in Colorado. Peterson or something like that. There are a few more stops we have to make along the way, so I don’t know how long it’ll take to get there either. But, I know I will see you there, Zo. I’ll send you a message with more details before we leave, assuming the internet still works. Our phones are useless, both landlines and cells, so don’t even bother trying to reach us that way. We can’t even Skype…the servers must be down or something.

  So, I’m not doing so hot with the Cam thing. The dreams…crap, Zo. Every time I fall asleep, Cam is there. And he’s always some grotesque version of dead. I’m getting to the point where I don’t even want to close my eyes. I miss you like crazy and wish I could sob in your arms every time I wake from the nightmares. Soon.

  Be safe,

  Dani

  6

  ZOE

  We spoke in hushed tones as we packed food for our trip. Sarah slept in the adjacent room, and we didn’t want to wake her. Dave’s arrival had brought a sense of relief to the house. I hadn’t seen him for nearly six months—since our break up—but his presence was unexpectedly reassuring.

  From my conversation with Jason a couple of days earlier, I knew we needed to head west if I ever wanted to see my brother or Dani again. Knowing they were still alive was enough to re-establish the hope I’d felt so despondent without. Dave was with me, and we had a plan. Everything seemed to be working out—except Sarah was still sick, and I tried not to think about what would happen if she got any worse.

  Searching through the cupboards, I thought about the strangeness of it all. It’s like I can feel her pain and fear all of a sudden.

  “Zoe?” I started and looked at Dave. My eyes refocused as I took in Dave’s concerned expression; it was easy enough to read with his loose curls hiding beneath his backward cap. His hand brushed my shoulder gently, and I instantly felt a rush of unease.

  “Did you hear me?” he asked.

  My mind was a muddled mix of emotions—I didn’t understand what I was feeling. Dave’s eyes were tired and shadowed, and I felt overwhelmed under his touch. What the hell’s going on? Where are these feelings coming from?

  He smiled and brushed a strand of hair from my face. “I asked if you wanted me to pack the stash of chocolate I found in the pantry. I’m assuming so, unless you’re no longer a chocolate fiend and I didn’t get the memo.” He flashed a cocky, lopsided grin.

  “Oh,” I breathed raggedly, “yeah, of course. Thanks.” The moment he removed his hand from my skin, I felt lighter.

  Bewildered, I exhaled and continued packing. I focused on the good news—Dani was alive and with Jason, and Dave was driving Sarah and me to the base in Colorado. I’d see my best friend and brother in a few days…and hopefully my dad, too.

  “Zoe?” I jumped when Dave’s hand touched the small of my back. Why is he touching me so much? I wanted to scream. His fingers lingered on the thin cotton of my t-shirt, and a sudden sense of apprehension nagged the back of my mind. Uncertainty washed over me, though I had no idea where it had come from.

  “Did you hear anything I said?”

&
nbsp; I stared at him, unsure of the feelings fluttering around inside me.

  “Zoe?” Dave’s brow was furrowed; his confident air dissipating.

  “S-sorry,” I stammered, glancing down at my shaking hands. Am I getting sick again?

  Dave squeezed my shoulder tightly. “What’s wrong?” Fear and anxiety pulsed through me, making me dizzy and disoriented.

  Sammy, Dave’s chocolate Lab, licked my hand, the contact shaking me from my confusion. I petted him absentmindedly as I tried to wade through the intense feelings.

  No. I refuse to be sick. “I’m just tired. What were you saying?”

  “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

  “I’m fine. Like I said, just tired.” Annoyed at his persistence, I stepped away and eyed him warily. “How about you? Are you feeling okay?”

  He rubbed his face and sighed in exhaustion. “Yeah, I’m feeling better. I was pretty sick there for a while.”

  I watched his lethargic movements as he pulled cans of chili from the cupboard. “You should get some rest, Dave. I can finish packing up.”

  He looked over at me and smirked. “Are you sure?”

  “Only if you don’t snore,” I amended playfully.

  Dave wandered over to the couch, and I wondered if I’d ever seen him without Sammy, who was prancing after him. He heaved his body down and took a deep breath. “This feels so good,” he sighed.

  Laughing, I took the blanket from the back of the couch and spread it over him. Although his forwardness often rubbed me the wrong way, I had missed his quirky charm. My hand grazed his arm, and I felt an unexpected wave of desire swell inside me. I froze.

  Dave caught my hand and peered up through his dark, blinking lashes. “Want to join me? I’ll make room…” His husky voice and coaxing gaze warned me of his intentions.