After the Ending
Page 45
“I need your full attention—every single drop of it. Come on.” Hurrying to the drapes, Sarah pulled them open, and the light of dawn stung my eyes.
“The sun is barely up,” I groaned, but my complaint fell on deaf ears. “What’s so important,” I huffed. “And why so early?” I stretched and wiggled in bed, trying to shake off the fog of bad dreams and to loosen my achy muscles—training had resumed and was kicking my ass.
“Listen to me closely, Zoe. I need the brutal honesty you’ve always been so good at giving…to other people.”
My eyebrows pulled together as I considered her words. “I’m going to assume there was some flattery in there somewhere.”
Sarah waved my words aside and began pacing.
Groaning again, I sat up. The thought of leaving the pillow-top mattress made me even grumpier. “Do I look as bad as I feel?”
“Yes, probably,” Sarah answered as she appraised my appearance.
I folded my arms and leaned back against the pillows, annoyed. “That was a rhetorical question, Sarah. Now, get on with it. What’s going on?” She was anxious, still pacing back and forth. Her hair bounced in its ponytail with each troubled step. “What?”
Pausing, Sarah looked at me through pleading, tired eyes. “I think I’m…I think I’m pregnant.”
“What!” I screeched before I could stop myself. Sarah having a child seemed like a cruel joke, but I could feel her turmoil and immediately felt horrible for thinking that. Seeing the pathetic look in her eyes, I made an effort to regain my composure. “I mean, are you sure?”
Shaking her head, Sarah resumed her preoccupied stride. “Not completely, but I missed my period. It was supposed to come over a week ago. I’m starting to assume the worst.”
“What are you gonna do?” Astonishment softened my voice.
She hurried over to the bed. “That’s what I need your brutal honesty for, Zoe. I’m freaking out.” Her chest was rising and falling like she’d just run up a dozen flights of stairs, and I could hear hysteria creeping into her voice. “I need you to tell me what to do.”
“You don’t know for sure that you’re pregnant,” I reminded her.
“Again, I’m starting to assume the worst.” She walked toward the window, popping each of her knuckles as she stared outside.
Realizing the implication of her words—that being pregnant would be a worst-case scenario—I asked, “I know it’s not ideal, given the circumstances, but would you never want a baby with Biggs?”
“Do I seem like mother material to you? Because I’m pretty sure I’d make a terrible one. Not to mention, this isn’t the best time to be procreating.” Curling a tendril of her hair around her finger, she resumed her pacing by walking to the door and then back again.
“Don’t you…you know…use protection? I mean, how did this happen? No, don’t answer that.” I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head, trying to dispel the images I’d conjured.
“I was on the pill for a while, but I ran out. We were being careful, but there were a couple of times when we got a little…forgetful, I guess you could say.” Her eyes were fearful. “This is huge, Zoe! What if he doesn’t want a kid?”
Resting the back of my head against the top of the mahogany headboard, I thought of Biggs and knew he’d be a great father. He had enough patience and compassion for the both of them. I smiled, trying to placate Sarah. “Don’t jump to conclusions, okay? First, let’s talk to Harper and see if you’re right. You might just be late. Then we’ll worry about Biggs and what to do, okay?”
Sarah nodded and seated herself on the edge of the bed, biting her fingernails nervously. “I’ve been feeling sort of sick lately,” she confessed while I got dressed. “I thought it was because of stress…maybe with Clara and the whole Jake thing, but my gut’s telling me that’s just wishful thinking.”
“Well, there’s only one way to find out. I’ll go get Harper, and you can tell him what you told me. He’ll know what to do.” I headed toward the door.
“But what if he tells Riley?”
I stopped in my tracks. “You should tell him. You’re right, Sarah, this is huge. Biggs needs to know.”
“I will tell him. I’m just scared. I’ve never been in this position before. What if the thought of me being pregnant is revolting to him?” she whined.
Placing my hands firmly on Sarah’s shoulders, I looked into her eyes and very carefully said, “Whatever happens, just remember that Biggs loves you. He’ll be supportive. He would want to know that you’re this upset.” I straightened. “Who knows, he might even be able to make you feel better about the whole thing.” I flashed a supportive smile and crossed the room to the door. “I’ll be right back…try to think of fairies and princesses while I’m gone,” I said, trying to lighten the mood before I scuttled out of the room.
“That’s not funny!” she called through the door.
I searched the first floor, listening for muffled voices that would give away my companions’ whereabouts. As I was heading into the library, I heard the steady footsteps of someone hurrying up behind me. Unwanted, Biggs’s lust for Sarah and images of her tussled hair and naked body infiltrated my mind. Eww…Crap!
“Hey Zoe,” Biggs called out as he ran up to me. “Have you seen Sarah?”
I smiled as convincingly as I could, trying to force the images of them having sex from my mind. Friggin’ stallion. “She’s in my room. Girl talk stuff,” I said nonchalantly, fleeing into the library before he could get any more information out of me. “We’ll be done soon.”
He followed me, and I wondered why he was suddenly feeling sympathetic. Strange. When I faced him, he shook his head and said, “I’m sorry, Zoe. Harper told me about your whole…prophecy thing. I mean, I knew about it before, but I guess I just didn’t know all the details. You doing okay?”
I was instantly confused, knowing I didn’t possess any sort of prophetic ability, but I nodded anyway.
“That’s gotta be wired to think about,” he said.
Oblivious to what he was talking about, I fished for a satisfying explanation. “Yeah…” I nodded again. “What are your thoughts about the whole thing?” Biggs was always so chatty—I hoped I could get some answers if I kept him talking long enough.
“Honestly, I’m not surprised by much anymore. But man, I can’t imagine how it feels to know someone predicted your death.” He placed a supportive hand on my shoulder. “The fact that Jake was told you’d die because of him, and then he saw you…” He slowly shook his head. “I’m just glad I’m not in Jake’s shoes. I don’t know how I’d handle knowing I was predestined to cause someone’s death. It’s all pretty crazy, right?” He paused, waiting for me to agree.
“Yeah, it’s…weird,” I said hollowly, trying not to let his words overwhelm me. A few seconds passed as I grasped for some kind of understanding. My confusion turned to shock, and finally betrayal took root in the pit of my stomach as Biggs’s words sank deeper. A prophecy that I would die because of Jake? And no one said anything to me? Every nerve in my body bristled with unease as Jake’s confusing behavior toward me started to make sense.
Biggs’s eyes widened, and I could feel his acute discomfort. “But you made it through, yay…” His fist pump was weak, and he forced a timid smile before his face dropped. “You didn’t know about any of that, did you?” He ran his fingers through his short, blonde hair, clearly distressed. “Shit.”
“Nope,” I said slowly, my voice low with disbelief and anger.
“Okay…so…I’m gonna go now. Will you send Sarah down when you ladies are done chatting, please?”
“Sure,” I said flatly, and Biggs hurried away. Turning on my heel, I marched toward the dining room, hoping to find Harper.
The fact that Harper and Jake hadn’t told me such a huge secret—about me—pissed me off. After everything I’d been through with Jake, he hadn’t uttered a word, and Harper, who I’d thought was my friend, had been just as secretive. How the hell did I
not sense this?
Harper and Sanchez were debating whether we should stay or leave as I stomped through the swinging kitchen door and into the dining room. I tried to remember that Sarah needed my help and that I had to focus on her situation, not mine, but when Harper smiled warmly at me, anger heated my cheeks, and I glared at him.
Sanchez turned in her seat to face me. “Yes, Zoe?”
I ignored her. Refusing to look at either of them, I stared at the gaudy, crystal chandelier hanging above the oversized, mahogany table. “Harper, Sarah needs you upstairs…in my room.” When they said nothing, I added, “It’s sort of important,” hastily turned, and walked away.
Hoping I wouldn’t run into anyone else before reaching the sanctuary of my room, I hurried toward the entryway. Unfortunately, as I got to the foyer, Jake and Cooper strolled in through the front door. I ignored the warmth in Jake’s eyes as I hurried up the left staircase and disappeared into my room. I slammed the door behind me.
“You okay?” When I heard Sarah’s trembling voice, I was instantly grateful it wasn’t me sitting on the bed, crying about pregnancy and babies. She fiddled with the hem of the sheets, and her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy.
Forcing a smile, I answered, “Yeah, fine. Harper’s on his way. We’ll get this figured out, don’t worry. Everything’ll be okay, you’ll see.” I sat down on the bed beside her, wringing my hands with unease.
A light knock on the door startled me, and Harper popped his head in. “Can I come in?”
“Of course you can.” His nice-guy charm was suddenly irritating. “I asked you to come up here, didn’t I?” His relaxed facial features hardened at my curt tone.
“Whoa, who spit in your porridge this morning?” he asked incredulously as he strolled into the room.
“We’ll talk later,” I said with false cheer and stood. “You need to focus on Sarah right now.” I walked to the window, hoping to find a distraction floating on the choppy waters of the lake below. I listened as Sarah explained her situation and as Harper encouraged her to believe that everything would be alright—no matter the outcome. Eventually, I tuned them out entirely.
I thought of better, simpler times, when the most difficult decisions I had to make were which shifts I wanted to take at Earl’s or which art pieces I wanted to showcase at the gallery. I wanted to worry about what to wear to work and not have to deal with freakish Abilities or Crazies or prophetic secrets.
A despairing whine snapped me out of my daydreams, and I turned to face the bed. Sarah had received a positive result from a urine test, and her eyes were again filled with tears. She threw herself back onto the bed, moaning and cursing about the unfairness of it all.
Not knowing what to say, Harper and I stood awkwardly beside the bed. “Good thing I had what we needed,” he said under his breath.
“Are you sure?” Sarah asked, oblivious to his comment. “I mean, should we run the test again?”
He sighed. “We’ve done it three times, Sarah. I’m 99 percent sure you’re pregnant. You need to tell Biggs.”
Before Sarah could argue, a voice from near the doorway startled us. “Did I hear my name?” Biggs peeked around the door, his eyes falling upon his distraught girlfriend, who immediately sprang to her feet. “What’s wrong, Babe?” He saw her teary, swollen eyes, and hurrying over to her, wrapped his arms around her. Sarah shook in his hold, divulging the news between staggered breaths.
“But that’s great news!” he shouted and looked around the room. “Did you hear that? We’re having a baby!”
“It’s still the very early stages,” Harper cautioned him from the attached bathroom as he washed his hands.
But Biggs didn’t seem to hear Harper, or he didn’t care. Instead, he lifted Sarah up and swung her around like she’d just accepted his marriage proposal—only, her face was blotchy and distressed, while his was filled with immense joy.
“You want to have a baby?” Sarah asked in between his laughing and hooting.
“Of course I do…don’t you?” When Sarah didn’t say anything, Biggs’s enthusiasm deflated. I could feel his joy drain from him as he looked into her frightened eyes.
“I’m not sure how to be a mom,” she said truthfully, watching his face for another heartbreaking reaction. “And, I can’t say we’re living in a baby-safe environment. We don’t even know where we’re going from one week to the next.” Her lip quivered. “We’re like…bums.”
I stifled a laugh before it could escape my throat.
Biggs’s eyes continued to watch Sarah closely—so did mine—as she deliberated aloud. “What if something happens during the pregnancy or birth or after? There’re no hospitals, no medicine…”
He gently pulled her toward him, and she shuffled into his arms once more. Resting his chin on the top of her wild hair, he sighed. “Things may never get better, Babe, but I know that I don’t want to stop living after we’ve survived so much.” His eyes were suddenly alive again and his tone elated. “I could teach the baby everything about survival…at least everything that I know. We have Zoe and Harper and Jake and everyone to help us. We won’t be alone…” He searched her eyes for some sort of acceptance. “Sarah?”
As she brushed away a stray tear, her face widened with an unexpected smile. “It sounds kinda nice when you say it like that.”
Biggs gathered her up into his arms and carried her out of the room. “I’m gon-na be-a dad-dy! I’m gon-na be-a dad-dy!” His chant echoed throughout the cavernous house, and Sarah’s giggles faded as they disappeared down the hall.
Distracted by the excitement, I hadn’t noticed Harper coming up beside me until I saw him out of the corner of my eye.
“Now,” he said and paused. “What’s wrong? Are you pregnant too?”
I rolled my eyes. “You have to have sex to get pregnant,” I snapped, turning to face him.
“Hey, I offered,” he teased, but I ignored him. “Well, then, what’s wrong with you?”
I gave him a withering stare. “What do you think?”
He shrugged, clearly annoyed.
“Goddammit, Harper. Why am I the last to know about this prophecy thing between you and Jake? What the hell’s going on?”
Harper’s look of frustration disappeared, and his eyes clouded with guilt. He sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t I get any explanation? Biggs mentioned something about Jake being involved in my death like it’s common knowledge. Apparently you’ve all known about it for a while, and all I get is ‘Sorry’? How long did you guys know I was supposed to die?” I paced, trying to ignore the regretful look on his face.
“First of all, we didn’t tell you because we didn’t know if it was true. Jake sure as hell didn’t…at least, not until he actually saw you for the first time. And even then he wasn’t sure if he should believe it. This is all so surreal; you know that as well as anyone. We didn’t know what to do. This is new for all of us, Zoe.” He finally took a breath. “I’m sorry you feel—”
“Betrayed? Frustrated? Pissed?” I seethed.
“Yeah, but this has been hard on all of us too. We didn’t know what to do,” he repeated. “There’s no manual.”
“No shit,” I spat. I couldn’t decide what was bothering me the most—that I hadn’t known what was going on or that I felt betrayed.
Suddenly, fear bubbled up, replacing the anger that had laced my words only moments before. “I could’ve tried to protect myself, H.”
When Harper threw his arms up in exasperation, I walked toward the stairs. I suddenly felt claustrophobic and needed to get out of the room.
“We didn’t know it was Clara, Zoe.” I could hear his footsteps on the landing behind me, and I paused at the top of the stairs. “We didn’t know if it would really happen. Jake was only told that you’d die and he’d be the cause, but how were we supposed to know if that was true? It’s not much to go off of so why tell you? So you can stew in fear for who knows how long?”
I looked back at Harper when he didn’t answer. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Why don’t you talk to him about it? He knows the details,” he said quietly.
Just then, Jake stepped into the entryway and looked up at us. Based on his somber expression, I could tell he’d overheard our conversation—but I wasn’t ready to talk to him about it.
“I want to be alone,” I said quietly, standing. I passed Harper and went back into my bedroom, closing the door behind me.
“We all decided to not tell you,” Harper called through the door. “It wasn’t just Jake’s decision.” Eventually, I heard him pad down the stairs, exchanging muffled words with Jake. I tried to ignore them and sat on the bed.
My mind was a bottomless pit of questions. In an effort to avoid them, I thought about Sarah and her baby. I worried about her—while Sarah had been born into wealth and luxury, her child would be born into more primitive circumstances—no prenatal care, no epidurals, no pediatricians. We were still learning about how to survive in our new life—about the Abilities and about the Crazies. How can she possibly take care of a kid? There were too many uncertainties, and I certainly wasn’t convinced she’d make the best post-apocalyptic mother.
“Well, I’d be pissed too!” Sarah shouted, her voice jarring me from my musings. She flung open my bedroom door—apparently privacy was a foreign concept to her. “There you are! Is everything okay? Riley told me what happened. It’s so creepy,” she said and sat down beside me. She rested her hand on my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me.
I didn’t want to talk about my situation, so I smiled reassuringly. “I’m fine. I’m just glad you’re doing okay.” I gestured to her tummy.