After the Ending

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After the Ending Page 35

by Lindsey Fairleigh


  “Now,” Mr. Grayson said, separating his hands and splaying them palm down on the table, “we’d like to invite you and your people to join us at our town meeting tomorrow evening. Due to the many tasks we must attend to during the day, it doesn’t begin until half past seven, so I’m afraid you’ll be required to travel to and from the marina in the dark. Even so, I sincerely hope you’ll attend.” He settled back in his chair, folding his hands and resting them on his lap.

  Shaken from the spell woven by Mr. Grayson’s hypnotic voice, I was able to feel the cool wetness of tears streaking down my face. I was also able to feel Jason’s strong fingers intertwined with mine, our joined hands dangling in the space between our chairs. I met Jason’s eyes briefly, and upon seeing the raw horror and sorrow they contained, tightened my grip. An awful thing had happened to our town…to our people.

  “Do you have any questions?” Grayson asked, breaking through the lingering fog of emotion.

  At a complete loss for words, I shook my head. I was still processing what he’d told us.

  “Thank you, Sir, for telling us this…” Jason paused. “…this news. We’ll definitely increase our defenses. And yes, some of us will attend your meeting tomorrow night. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of questions by then.”

  Mr. Grayson nodded.

  “Now,” Jason said, his eyes again meeting mine, “we should be going.” He gave my hand one last squeeze and gently placed it on my knee.

  I looked from my hand to Jason to Mr. Grayson, and my head finally cleared. “Wait!” I blurted. “Do you think…maybe…we could borrow some of your books? There are still so many things we can learn to help us have a better chance at survival.”

  “Oh yes, I forgot…of course, Danielle. I set aside a handful of books for you based on the ones you pulled and left here yesterday. They’re on the table by the door. And please,” he stood and held his hand out toward the rooms full of bookshelves, “take any others you think you could use.”

  Filled with unexpected relief by his kindness, I bounced out of my chair, ran around the table, and flung my arms around my former teacher. “It’s so good to see you, Mr. G,” I said, a hitch in my voice. “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

  Mr. Grayson gently patted my back. “And I, you, Miss. O’Connor.”

  Date: January 3, 7:45 PM

  From: Danielle O’Connor

  To: Zoe Cartwright

  Subject: Craziness and Crazies

  Zo,

  We met with Mr. Grayson today, and it was…enlightening. And depressing. Less than a hundred people are left alive and sane. The Crazies (“Lost Ones” as the townsfolk call them) attacked a bunch of survivors in their homes and slaughtered them. Literally tore them to pieces. People we know were mutilated by other people we know. What the hell?

  FYI—We’re meeting the rest of the sane survivors tomorrow at their “town meeting”—they’ve all established themselves over at the marina. It should be interesting, if nothing else.

  Anyway, Holly, who had food duty today, prepared some hearty rice and beans that were deliciously spicy. And then, for a real treat, Dalton roasted a couple of rabbits he’d caught earlier today (I couldn’t eat them…I was too worried they might’ve been some of the little creatures I’ve communicated with). Everything was cooked in the larger of the house’s two fireplaces since our electricity went out yesterday. At least we have a generator to power the smaller things. I kind of can’t believe the internet is still functioning…most of the time. How long until that goes out too? We’ve got to hurry and get together, Zo!

  But enough on that depressing topic…let’s see…oh, yeah! Holly spent a hearty chunk of time at dinner gushing about Dalton’s mad hunting and trapping skills. I think she was trying to make Jason jealous. You see, I’m getting the impression that she’s his replacement for Cece, but…never mind…this is gag city for you. Anyway, I think Dalton is going to teach some of the others how to hunt and stuff. Not me though. I wonder how you make tofu…

  Be safe, Zo. Miss you desperately, and can’t wait to see you in Colorado! I’m excited to read your departure plans. I haven’t heard from you in a couple days. Everything better be okay, or I’m going to kick your butt.

  Ciao,

  Dani

  “Hey there Scrubby D,” Ky said as he entered the kitchen.

  I was in the middle of an assault on a stack of mismatched ceramic dishes that were slathered with a stubborn layer of bean paste—tasty, but eerily similar to stucco once it dried. Since I was moderately lethal in the cooking department, I usually ended up with dish duty. Honestly, I didn’t mind.

  “Hey there, Special K,” I replied, cringing at my own lameness.

  “Special K? Really? I’m cereal? Is that all I am to you?” he teased.

  I spared him an eye roll and continued scrubbing.

  Ky hopped up to sit on the tiled counter a few feet away. “We need to talk, D.”

  “About what?” I asked.

  “You tell me. You’re the one sending out the anxiety vibes.”

  I ignored him, scrubbing with renewed vigor.

  He leaned toward me like he was going to tell me a secret. “Holly and Jason are sitting by the fireplace right now. Together,” he told me.

  What? If he has sex with her I’ll kick him in the balls. Repeatedly!

  “You do realize you just said that in my head, right?”

  “Did not.”

  “Yep…you said, ‘What? If he has sex with her I’ll—’”

  “Okay! Fine!” I accidentally dropped my latest clean plate back into the dirty water. “So what if I did?” I grumbled, picking the plate back up.

  Ky laughed. “So…you can’t control your telepathy. You’re talking in people’s minds when you don’t mean to. If certain people hear certain things, then a certain you will be very embarrassed. Just saying.”

  “Oh.” I’d known my telepathy was far from under control, but I hadn’t known that stray thoughts were leaking out. “Sorry?”

  “Come on, D. Let Chris help. She’s itching to get her invisible little fingers in your brain. She just won’t ask ‘cause she’s, you know, polite and shit.”

  “That’s creepy.”

  He shrugged. “You trust her, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “So let her help.”

  I thought about it. Learning to control my Ability could be invaluable. It could also save me from some horribly embarrassing moments. “Fine.”

  “You sure? Your anxiety just spiked,” he informed me, rubbing his temples with his fingers. “It kind of feels like you’re gonna make a run for it.”

  “I said ‘fine’, didn’t I?” I snapped. I felt a twinge of guilt for taking my grouchiness out on Ky, especially since my anxiety seemed to be giving him a headache…literally.

  “Cool,” he said, hopping down from the counter. “I’ll tell Chris.”

  As he left the kitchen, I grabbed a discolored blue bowl and attacked it with the scrub brush. “This’ll be awesome,” I muttered.

  Trying to ignore the impending brain torture, I lost myself in the monotony of washing dishes. It was both therapeutic and finger-wrinkling. Eventually I placed the last dish in the drying rack, drained the dishwater, and washed my hands. When I turned away from the sink, I jumped. Chris was lounging in the chair at the far end of the rectangular, oak kitchen table.

  My left hand flew to my chest. “Chris! How long’ve you been sitting there?”

  “Don’t know…maybe fifteen minutes,” she said, pursing her lips as she studied me. “I’m going to test you. JASON!”

  Within seconds, Jason strolled in and leaned his shoulder against the doorframe. “Need something?”

  “Yes.” Chris pointed to a chair at the opposite end of the table. “Sit. Dani’s letting me test her telepathy. Let’s see…I need you to knock on the table each time you hear a full thought from our girl.”

  Jason’s eyes shifted to me, seeming to ask for permission
, before he gave a single nod and straightened. He walked across the room and eased his powerful body into the empty chair at the head of the table.

  Chris looked at me and explained, “I have a few theories about your…what’d you call it? Oh yeah, your Ability. Anyway, to test my theories I’m going to write down a list of sentences and then give the list to you. I want you to point to each sentence as you read it so I know which one you’re on…and read silently. And don’t read ahead. I want you to send only the underlined parts to Jason’s mind, okay?”

  “Got it,” I said, moving to sit in the chair nearest Chris.

  She took a few minutes to scribble the words in a notebook, underlining select parts as she went, and eventually tore the sheet from the book. She scooted her chair closer to mine and handed me the paper.

  “Okay, I’m also going to try to pay attention to what’s going on in your brain while you’re doing this. Go ahead,” she told me, her pen poised over a blank notebook page. I felt like the subject of a bizarre psychology experiment as I looked at the sheet of paper.

  My name is Dani O’Connor.

  Zoe is my best friend, and I miss her.

  Puppies are adorable.

  Puppies are disgusting and ugly.

  This is the end of the world.

  Why did so many people have to die?

  I promise not to run off again without Jason and Chris, even if a crazy psycho slut bitch is threatening me.

  Jason is absolutely gorgeous.

  If he sleeps with Holly I might have to kill her.

  I love him!

  I read the first two lines silently, projecting my thoughts to Jason—he knocked twice. I successfully sent—or refrained from sending—the next three lines, receiving a snort and a knock when I told him that puppies were disgusting and ugly.

  When I read the sixth line about people dying, images of Cam, dead, filled my thoughts. I felt so much guilt—guilt for surviving when he hadn’t, guilt for leaving him to die alone, and guilt for having feelings for Jason. After receiving four knocks from Jason, I wondered exactly what my stupid mind had sent to him. I glanced at him just as he rubbed the back of his neck. Not good…

  I delivered the seventh line according to plan, but the final three were a mortifying mess. I clutched onto the “Jason is absolutely gorgeous” line desperately—against Chris’s wishes—but accidentally sent the following line about him sleeping with Holly. When he knocked, making a coughing, choking sound, I wanted to crawl under the table.

  With flaming cheeks, I tried not to send the final line—I love him—to Jason. I refused to look at him, instead glaring at Chris. She was cracking up. I cursed her for writing those final three words on the test.

  “Oh my God…too funny…” Still laughing, Chris pointed to the Jason is absolutely gorgeous line. “You didn’t say that one in his head, even though you were supposed to.” She pointed to the If he sleeps with Holly line. “But you said that one.”

  I hoped the universe had a sense of decency and that Jason truly hadn’t heard the last sentence.

  “What’d she say that made you knock four times in a row?” Chris asked after she’d quieted her laughter.

  When Jason didn’t respond, I looked at him. He was watching me with a blank expression.

  “Well?” Chris prompted.

  Jason cleared his throat. “She said,” he began, but stopped, leaning across the table and grabbing Chris’s notepad and pen. He scrawled several lines quickly, tore out the paper, folded it, and handed it to Chris. “She said that,” he said, his voice rough. Without another glance in my direction, he stood and left the kitchen.

  Chris unfolded the paper, read it several times, and then crumpled it up in her left hand.

  “What’s it say?” I asked, frustrated. Shouldn’t I know my own thoughts?

  “You really want to know?”

  “Of course I do! It came from my head!”

  Chris placed the wadded-up paper on the table in front of me. “Fine. But don’t make it a bigger deal than it is, okay? I’m sure he doesn’t even know who you’re talking about…he can be unbelievably dense. Though, everything might just be easier if he knew exactly how much…”

  With shaking fingers, I smoothed out the paper and read silently:

  Why did Cam have to die? I loved him! I told him I’d stay with him. Why am I feeling like this about someone else?

  I studied the thoughts I’d sent to Jason, written in his sharp, slanted handwriting, trying to force them out of his memory and back into my head. His abrupt exit suddenly made perfect sense.

  I tore up the paper and grumbled, “Dammit…stupid, crappy brain…”

  Chris, who’d started writing furiously in her notebook, paused to peer at me. “Stop that,” she scolded. “We learned a bunch of things about your Ability. You can lie…that could be really useful. Your emotions can hijack it, but we already kind of knew that. I wonder what makes it possible for someone to talk back?” She stopped speaking, and furrowed her brow. “Did you hear me say that?” she asked eagerly.

  “I didn’t hear anything you didn’t say out loud,” I told her, much to her disappointment. Apparently she’d been making an attempt at mind-talk.

  “Hmmm…well…,” she mumbled, making notes. “So it’s not that…”

  “I’m kind of tired. Do you still need me?” I asked, standing.

  She stopped writing and looked up. “What? No. I wonder if…maybe…”

  Leaving Chris to her mad scientist mutterings, I slinked from the room. Being a guinea pig was exhausting, and I could feel a mild chill settling into my body. As I tiptoed to the bathroom to wash up for bed, I begged the universe to have mercy on me. Please don’t let me run into Jason!

  For once, the universe obliged.

  39

  ZOE

  Contentment settled over me as unfamiliar, snow-covered mountains appeared in the distance. They lined the horizon, and the green needles of spruces and pines peeked from under winter’s blanket.

  A young girl’s voice carried from within the dense tree line. “Where are you?”

  My attention diverted to a treeless hillside where snow crunched under a young man’s footsteps as he trudged uphill. “I’m over here!” he called. “Hurry up!” It was Jake—I could tell by the rumbling timber of his voice and the twinge of impatience it so often carried.

  The sun beamed down upon him, making his damp forehead glisten. The girl’s laughter echoed as she emerged from the trees at the foot of the hill. She looked about eleven years old, with coffee-brown braids framing her round, flushed cheeks. Her eagerness to catch up with Jake was that of a little sister, and I realized it was Becca.

  “You’re going too fast,” she whined.

  “If you wanna know what it is, you gotta work for it,” Jake yelled as she trekked up the hill behind him. I was suddenly closer to him and could see the amusement lighting his eyes.

  “What’s all this about, anyway?” she asked, huffing as she hurried to catch up with her brother.

  “It’s just over here. We’re almost there.” Reaching a clearing at the top of the hill, Jake paused and looked back at Becca.

  “Holy moly! That’s a steep one,” she said, taking dramatically deep breaths as she joined her brother.

  With a smile, Jake motioned her to the crest of the hill, and they looked down at the children playing below.

  “So this is where they always go,” she said solemnly. There was a sadness in her eyes I didn’t understand.

  “Becca!” A young girl shouted and waved from the bottom of the slope. A tall, blonde young man around Jake’s age stood behind her, smiling as he nodded at Jake.

  Becca’s frown was replaced with a broad grin at the sight of her friends. She looked over at her brother and exclaimed, “It’s Lizzy and Gabe!”

  “Yep,” Jake said. “You should go join them.”

  Her face scrunched in disappointment. “You think Lizzy’ll let me use her sled?”


  “Why don’t you use your own?” he asked with a smirk, but Becca was too distracted by the playing children to notice.

  She furrowed her brow. “Heellllooo…it’s broken. That’s why I didn’t bring it. You know James and Kristy won’t get me a new one.”

  “What about that one?” Jake asked, pointing to an improvised sled resting against the lone tree to the left of them.

  Becca’s eyes brightened. “You made me one?!” she shrieked and ran to it. “Why? I mean, what’s it for?” Standing the sled on its side, she studied it excitedly.

  “Your birthday…duh.”

  “Umm, sorry to break it to you, Jake, but that’s still four months away.” Becca’s eyes focused on part of the sled, and she gasped. She leaned closer and said, “You used your skateboard…and are those skis?”

  “My skateboard was old,” he said with a shrug and shoved his hands into his pockets—he seemed to revel in his sister’s surprise. “I found the skis. Consider it an early birthday gift.”

  Becca didn’t blink as she inspected every inch of the makeshift sled. “But you love this thing. I can’t believe you used it.”

  “Whatever, don’t worry about it,” he said. “You’ve been complaining all winter about not having a sled. Just enjoy it.”

  Her smile widened, and she ran to him, stood on her tiptoes, and threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Jake,” she giggled. “You’re the best brother…even better than Gabe.”

  “I should be better than him,” he laughed. “I’m blood.”

  Suddenly, the world turned to night, and I was standing in the shadows of a dark forest. No longer blanketed with snow, the ground was instead covered with a carpet of pine needles. There was the distant sound of a dog barking, and beside me, the crackle of forest debris.

 

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