After the Ending

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  Abruptly, Sanchez stood and carried her empty dish to the sink to submerge it in water; she took her time before joining Harper, Sarah, and me by the fire. “Up until a couple days ago, there were nine of us. We lost our commanding officer to a group of looters.”

  “There were just so many of them,” Biggs interjected, still seated at the kitchen table.

  “I don’t know if they were infected,” Sanchez continued, “but they were definitely insane. They ambushed us and tried to steal everything we had. We were able to fight them off long enough to regroup.” Peering up into Harper’s solemn eyes, she sighed. “It’s hard to know what to expect. Everything’s different now.”

  Sanchez looked back at me. “We thought we’d killed them all, but then another wave of them showed up. Our CO and two others were killed, and we lost two soldiers to the Virus before that. There hasn’t been a lot of time for resting,” she said flatly.

  “As you can imagine, there aren’t many warm places to stop in an area like this. We hoped the occupants of this cabin were dead, no offense. We weren’t sure what we’d find inside when we saw the blood on the porch,” she admitted. “Is that a body wrapped up out there?”

  Sarah’s high, defensive tone startled me. “It’s Sammy. The weather’s been too bad. We haven’t been able to bury him.”

  “Sammy was Dave’s dog,” I explained.

  “It’s not like we’re crazy or anything.” Sarah looked over at Biggs, who was just finishing up his dinner.

  His blue eyes were sympathetic as he nodded in understanding.

  “We know that now,” Sanchez whispered.

  A deafening silence filled the room. The memory of fallen friends and lost loved ones colored everyone’s faces—dark circles, worry lines, and creased foreheads created a painting of grief. The sorrow-laden air was overwhelming. The others’ raging turmoil swelled inside me, fighting for control. Tears crept into my eyes, but I forced them to retreat.

  While everyone’s thoughts lingered in the past, something pricked my senses, and I suddenly felt self-conscious. I looked over to see Sanchez’s eyes transfixed on me. Their intensity was disconcerting, and she wouldn’t look away. She couldn’t possibly know there’s something wrong with me, I tried to rationalize, but I wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

  Refocusing on the crackling fire, I cleared my throat to speak. “Well, I’m glad you’re all here.” Except for Sanchez, maybe. “We weren’t sure what to do next.”

  Sarah nodded, absentmindedly stroking the scratches on the back of her wrist that she’d received while trying to save Sammy.

  I suppressed a smile and chose my next words carefully. “Sarah, you keep touching the scrapes on your arm. Are they bothering you? I thought I saw blood…” Feigning concern, I looked at her barely marred skin. Sell it, I coached myself, knowing that if I could get Biggs’s attention, he’d take the bait.

  “I’m fine, Zoe.” Sarah’s eyes were wide with confusion, and her ears were red with embarrassment. “It’s just a small scratch.” But before she could say another word, Biggs appeared behind her.

  Victory! I smiled proudly and leaned back to observe the fruits of my labor.

  “Can I take a look?” Biggs pointed to her right arm.

  Cranking her head to the left, Sarah ended up with her face mere inches from his olive-colored belt. She looked up at him. “Oh, sure, but it’s nothing, really.”

  Happy my scheme was working perfectly, I watched Sarah’s gaze lock with the blonde soldier’s. The attraction between them was obvious. I could practically feel the butterflies in their stomachs, elated and flighty, as they stared at each other.

  Sarah’s curls bounced about as she stood and followed Biggs over to the bag of medical supplies. She reminds me of Dani. But, unlike Sarah, Dani would’ve jumped at the chance to flirt with a handsome man in uniform. Still, Sarah’s curls, recoiling up and down as she walked, mimicked the way Dani’s fiery red locks always jostled and drew the boys’ attention.

  I heard a throat clear and looked over to find Harper watching me intently. He had one eyebrow arched. Smiling guiltily, I shrugged. “I couldn’t help it. Thank God for you and your medical supplies. Perhaps she won’t lose her arm after all.”

  “We wouldn’t want that.” Harper grinned and stood to stretch. “I guess I should check on our patient.”

  As he walked away, I felt Sanchez’s eyes on me again. “Is something wrong?” I lashed out anxiously, not sure I wanted to know the answer. I slowly turned toward her.

  Standing, Sanchez shook her head. “You remind me of someone,” she said as she walked away.

  “You look so much like him,” I heard and hoped I’d only imagined the woman’s voice in my head.

  Date: December 18, 9:00 PM

  From: Zoe Cartwright

  To: Danielle O’Connor

  Subject: Houseguests

  Hey D,

  Sorry you’re having such horrible nightmares. Other than drinking copious amounts of wine (which you already seem to be doing), I’m not sure I have any ideas to help you sleep better. You can always kick it up a notch and drink the hard stuff. You guys got any booze lying around? I can’t imagine seeing Cam in that state. I suppose this is how your mind is dealing with everything, but it still seems a bit morbid, especially for you. Are the dreams getting any better?

  As for Cece, everything about her screams “BITCH.” I can’t believe you had to see Jason with her. Eww…GROSS! And I can’t get over the fact that she’s blaming everything that happened with her family on you. It’s not like you have any control over other people’s actions. She’s the one who has a fascination with Jason. So, just remind yourself that she made the choice to stay behind with him. Don’t let her take her anger out on you. None of that is your fault, D. Someone needs to slap her around a little bit.

  I’m sorry your day’s been so shitty. Too bad we can’t finish that bottle of wine together—a nice fire, a blanket, Jack curled up at our feet...sigh. The truth is, I’m in a weird spot too, so I could really use a drink. Dave and I still aren’t speaking to each other, so I haven’t had a chance to tell him about my...well, superpowers. I’m planning on telling him, but so much has happened with our new houseguests showing up unexpectedly that there hasn’t really been time.

  Yes, I said houseguests. They’re a military outfit from the East Coast. I think they’re Army Rangers. They’re under the leadership of a tight-lipped woman named Lieutenant Carmen Sanchez. She looks like a Latina pinup girl more than anything, but she’s really serious and seems pretty badass. There are two other soldiers with her. Sergeant Dustin Harper is a medic. He’s an island boy—super fit and hot, and he knows it. He’s already propositioned me for sex. No, seriously, he did. I said no, but probably only because everyone was waiting for my answer. If we’d been alone I might’ve considered it more thoroughly. Either way, it’s flattering, and he makes me laugh. I think I’m gonna like having him around. I also feel much better knowing that Dave’s legs aren’t going to fall off. Then there’s Sergeant Riley Biggs. He’s the tech guy and also seems nice. He’s youngish, has a baby face, and very pretty blue eyes. He’s already smitten with Sarah. Their flirting is definitely entertaining and is keeping me occupied for the time being.

  Our new friends couldn’t have come at a better time. There are no working phones, the snowstorms haven’t really let up, and Dave and I obviously aren’t communicating well. With their skills and knowledge we can finally get out of here. Thank God for generators, Internet, fire, and sporadic radio signals. I’m sure there’s plenty more to be thankful for, but you get the idea.

  Everything seems to be winding down here. Sanchez is camping out in the room with Sarah and me. She looks at me weird though, and it’s sort of unsettling. Apparently I remind her of someone…but still. I want to scream “do you mind?” whenever I catch her staring at me, but the gun strapped to her thigh tends to sway me into silence. Until I figure out what’s wrong with me, I just want to sta
y under the radar.

  Please be strong, D, and don’t let Cece get under your skin. You’re better than her. You’re stronger, and she’ll come to her senses. If she doesn’t, you better kick her ass. I’ll write more tomorrow. I’m gonna put my tunes on and try to get some sleep. Hopefully your wine kicks in soon. Have sweet dreams, and give Jack a squeeze for me, or a pat…whatever he prefers.

  Hasta,

  Zoe

  15

  DANI

  Cam kissed me excitedly.

  I couldn’t wait to be with him again. I trailed my fingers through his hair, over his shoulders, down his chest—I was not to be denied. Still locked to his lips, I began removing his t-shirt. Some of his skin followed.

  I screamed.

  Grasping my shoulders, he rasped, “I tried, D! I really tried to hold it together!” His arms tightened around me like a vice, squeezing the air out of my lungs. “Won’t I ever be enough for you? Why’d you leave me, D? You’re tearing me apart!” For emphasis, he ripped a fist-sized chunk of flesh from his chest.

  “No, no, NOOOO!” I cried out in horror.

  His weeping, decaying figure withered before me.

  “You’re dead, Cam! You left me! This isn’t my fault! I wish…I wish so much that you were still here. But you’re not…you died!” I turned abruptly and ran—straight into a tall, blonde, mysterious man. When I glanced behind me, Cam was gone.

  The mystery guy, who I somehow knew was the hidden man from the previous night’s dream, raised his hands to my face. His thumbs grazed my cheeks and wiped away my desperate tears. His light skin and chin-length blonde hair made him seem almost angelic, though the effect was offset by his roguish five o’clock shadow.

  The rest of his fingers moved from my face until his gentle hands tangled in my hair. Compared to Cam’s melting grasp, his touch was comforting…his touch was alive.

  Before I knew what was happening, he was kissing me. The soft pressure of his lips against mine. The tightening of his hand behind my neck. The whisper of tangled breath.

  Hesitantly, he pulled away. “Hmmm…I think you’re ready,” he told me with a triumphant smile. “Oh, I’m definitely going to—”

  Abruptly, I woke to Jack’s low growl. When I opened my eyes, I realized he was standing over me—guarding me. My heart pounded, and I tried to control my sudden need to pant. Someone must be behind me…

  As Jack’s warning sounds grew louder and more menacing, I slowly turned over. I kept my breathing even and opened my eyes the smallest possible amount, trying to maintain the impression that I was simply moving in my sleep.

  Jack crouched closer over me, his growl vibrating against my torso and long strings of saliva falling from his retracted lips.

  In the darkness a few feet away, a shadowy form coalesced into someone recognizable: Cece.

  What the hell? Where’s Chris?

  Slowly, the unwelcome woman inched forward. Completely focused on staying clear of my dog, Cece was utterly unaware of my wakeful state.

  Confused and afraid, I remained still in the heavy darkness.

  Cece neared until she was only a foot away, and the tension in Jack’s body increased, making the bed quiver. Wildly, I thought, Why is she in here? Is she going to hurt me? A plan…I need a freaking plan!

  Before I could think of something, of anything, Cece’s concealed hand came into view, and my eyes burst open. Moonlight glinted dully off a combat knife clutched in her grasp, and time seemed to stand still…

  Jack’s body coiled like a spring.

  Cece held the knife up like a surgeon.

  My breath caught, and I thought, I’m going to die.

  …and then it was like the world pressed PLAY. Simultaneously, Jack lunged for Cece’s knife hand, and I lashed out. My nails caught the flesh on the right side of her face, gouging a trail from eyebrow to jaw. Using the momentary advantage, I scrambled backward across the bed and fell off the opposite side. I was perfectly happy to huddle on the hardwood floor, peeking over the edge of the mattress.

  Still on the bed with Cece’s wrist in his mouth, Jack shook his head, and the knife clattered to the floor. I couldn’t believe Cece wasn’t screaming, considering the massive German Shepherd with his fangs sunk into her flesh. Instead, she started to cry.

  Taking momentary pity on the woman, I commanded, “Drop it, Jack.” It felt exceptionally odd telling my dog to drop a person’s wrist.

  He obeyed, though he retained his aggressive stance.

  “Come here, Jack,” I said weakly. I had to repeat the command twice before he would listen.

  Finally, with the bed between my attacker and me, and with my dog by my side, I cautiously stood.

  Minutes passed before Cece was able to do anything but weep. Looking through me, she mumbled, “I just wanted to see…to know…why he would…why you’re…” Her pitiful attempt at an explanation faltered as her eyes focused on me.

  Her expression soured, turning ripe with hatred. “You’re done, murdering bitch. And you’ll never have him!” she hissed. Pivoting unstably, she stalked from the room.

  The whole confrontation had been so quick and quiet that it almost felt like it had been a second nightmare. Except, Cece’s knife was still on the floor where she’d dropped it, the only evidence of what had just transpired…besides her wounds. Bitch deserved it, I thought nastily.

  What’d she say? I’ll never have Jason? I could’ve told her that. I sat heavily on the end of the bed after shutting the door. Unexpected laughter bubbled out of my mouth, and I could feel myself teetering on the edge of hysteria. The whole situation was unbelievably ridiculous. Just my luck—the psycho skank wants to kill me, not because of her sister, but because she wants to keep me away from Jason.

  A deep, angry resentment simmered in my veins, and my laughter turned bitter. I’d been enamored of Jason, my best friend’s older brother, pretty much since the first second I’d laid eyes on him as a little girl. But he’d never shown the least bit of genuine interest. Sure he’d flirted, stringing me along affectionately, but we both knew there was nothing behind it. How dare he?! It’s his fault Cece has it in for me!

  As my laughter died down, my thoughts turned morose. Cam would be so pissed if I got killed because of Jason…

  Unconsciously, I wrapped my right hand around my opposite wrist. My thumb pressed into the familiar Celtic knot tattooed there, immediately evoking thoughts of Zoe. Clear reason washed over me; thinking of Zoe usually had that effect on me.

  What should I do, Zo?

  You get your little butt over to Jason’s room and tell him what happened, that’s what you do! Now! I decided that listening to my best friend, imaginary or not, was probably the wisest plan.

  Tiptoeing slowly down the hallway, I wondered what I’d find in Jason’s room. Would Cece already be there, weaving lies into a tangled web? Would they be locked in a passionate, nauseating embrace?

  I reached the door and knocked quietly. Chris’s voice, talking and laughing, was audible through the wood. “Do you think she’s come back to try again?”

  Jason scoffed loudly. “I doubt it—I couldn’t’ve been any damn clearer.”

  The door opened, and I just stood in the hallway, staring at Chris. My lips parted in an attempt to form words, but all I could do was take jerky breaths. For some reason, seeing Chris’s earnest blue eyes brought me close to tears.

  “Dani?” Her jovial tone instantly melted into motherly concern. “What’s wrong?” She hustled me into the room, shutting the door quietly behind her. “You must be freezing! Why aren’t you wearing something warmer?”

  Jason, sitting at the small table across the room, straightened. He seemed to be studying every inch of me. His eyes scanned up and down my body, never resting on one part for too long.

  Numbly, I examined my state of attire. I had on my skimpiest set of post-apocalyptic sleepwear: tiny purple cotton shorts and a pale green tank top. The sudden realization that I was standing in front of J
ason, barely covered, transformed the touch of his eyes. They singed trails of fire along my skin.

  Before I could die of embarrassment, Chris wrapped a fuzzy, caramel-brown blanket around my shoulders. She sat with me on the foot of the full-size bed while Jack settled at our feet.

  “Thank you,” I said, surprised by the calm in my voice. It’s Zo, I realized, giving me strength.

  Still grasping my tattooed wrist, I recounted my recent confrontation with Cece. As soon as I finished talking, Chris rose and began pacing. Jason, however, remained seated at the small table, keeping his eyes locked on mine. After several long deep breaths, he opened his mouth to speak.

  And the door burst open.

  John and Hunter marched into the room with Cece trailing close behind. She hung back in the doorway watching me like a cat with a cornered mouse. Slowly, the corners of her mouth twisted into a self-satisfied smirk.

  Hunter, however, being entirely focused on Jason, hadn’t noticed me perched on the bed. “Sir, I know Cece was pretty cruel earlier, but that’s no reason for Dani to attack her…with her dog! I mean, look at what they…,” he said, trailing off when he finally noticed me.

  “We had good reason,” I said in chorus with a growl from Jack. Cece flinched at the sound of my dog’s low rumble, making me smile inside.

  “Puh-lease,” Cece whined, her voice dripping with self-pity. A huge fake tear rolled down her cheek, and she winced when it crossed the angry red scratches that had been gouged by my nails. “She attacked me! So did her stupid mutt! Look!” She motioned to her face with her swollen, bleeding wrist, drawing attention to both of her injuries.

  I rolled my eyes at the ridiculous show and embraced the cold anger crackling within me. “I defended myself, you psycho! Maybe if you hadn’t been in my room with a knife, I never would have scratched your pretty face.”