Into The Fire (The Ending Series) (6 page)

I opened my eyes a little wider than usual and raised my
eyebrows just a touch, hoping to look innocent and naïve. “We were traveling
for a few months…from my hometown. We could’ve stayed there—probably
should’ve—but hindsight is twenty-twenty, right?”

Dr. Wesley nodded and brought the bright, evil penlight up
to my eyes again. “Follow this light, but don’t move your head,” she directed.

Sharp pain lanced the front of my skull as I tracked it from
side to side. “Just so you know, it feels like you’re sticking knitting needles
into my brain through my eyeballs,” I told her, gritting my teeth.

“Mmm…I’m not surprised.”

Then why are you doing it?
I wanted to shout.

“You have a pretty nasty concussion. You were struck here,”
she said as she gently brushed her fingers over a tender spot behind my left
ear. Finally, she returned the torturous light to her breast pocket.

I was tempted to snag it and snap it in two.

“Tell me more about your trip,” she prompted, dropping her
latex gloves into the trash before opening one of the cabinet drawers. “You
said you had companions who came with you from your hometown—what was it?”

I blinked. “Oh, right, Bodega Bay…yeah, that’s where I’m from,
sort of. But my friends, they’re mostly from an Army base in Washington, that’s
where I was going to school…in Seattle, not the army base. Sorry, I feel like
this isn’t coming out well. My brain feels all mushy.”

With the distinctive ripping sound of Velcro, Dr. Wesley
deftly opened a blood pressure cuff and wrapped it around my upper arm. “It’s
fine. Tell me about them, about your friends. Maybe it’ll help jog something.”

“Well, they’re really tough, even Mr. G, who was one of my
teachers back in high school. We found him in Bodega Bay. And then there’s Ky
and Ben, they’re brothers, and Chris. She’s amazing…was an Army Ranger. We
picked up Carlos from a bad group of people along the way…he’s just a kid, sort
of. And then there’s Jason.” Pausing, I pictured my handsome, brave, sometimes
tender, and always lethal Jason, and the corner of my mouth turned up. “He and
Ky were Green Berets…in the Army, I mean. They can be a little intense
sometimes, but you probably already know all about that.” After all, the Colony
was a former military base.

The Colony.
My barely-there smile turned into a
definitely-there frown. According to Jake, the Colony was a very dangerous
place.
Maybe I should take off soon.
I needed to get back to my friends
as soon as possible; Jason was probably losing it. He tended to be protective,
especially if—okay,
when
—I was in danger. He’d blown the brains out of
the last person to threaten me. Of course, Mandy
had
been a cult leader
who’d mentally and physically raped a large group of unwilling followers,
including my sweet Carlos. So it’s not that she hadn’t deserved it, but
still…brains…and skull chunks. Ew…

What does he think happened to me? Does he think I’m
dead?
Cringing, I realized Jason was probably blaming himself for my
disappearance, especially since his temporarily over-excited nulling Ability
had prevented me from sensing human minds. In reality, it had been my fault. I
never should have wandered off.
I’m such an idiot.

“Well,” Dr. Wesley said, offering me a genuine smile, “those
sound like pretty formidable people. They must not have been nearby when you
were attacked, otherwise…”

I shook my head, gently for once. “Jason…”
…was nearby,
but I guess not close enough.
“Oh God, Zo…the others. What if the Crazies
went after them, too? Some of them are pretty vulnerable.”
Like Sarah.
“Do
you know…did the patrol notice anything? Are they okay?” I asked, imploring her
with my eyes.

“You’re the only one our patrol found, according to the note
in your file.” She glanced at the papers in the folder again, then shook her
head. “Yep. Just you. There’s no mention of anyone else. I’m sure they’re fine.
It would have been noted in your file if you’d been found near a bunch of fresh
bodies.”

As I looked into her deep, blue eyes, I found no hint of concern.
But what if she’s wrong? She thinks their fine, but…

Feeling anxious, afraid, and a little nauseated, I studied
the white-speckled beige institutional floor tiles like they held all the
answers.
Jason…Zo…Chris…everyone…what if they’re all hurt…or worse?
I
thought miserably.

“Lay back, please,” Dr. Wesley said, placing her slim hand
on my shoulder and easing me backward on the exam table. “We do general,
holistic checkups on everyone who enters the Colony from the outside.” Her tone
was businesslike.

From the outside?
I frowned.

“This includes an exam of the patient’s reproductive
organs,” the doctor explained. “It’s required, so I hope you don’t mind.” That
shut me and my thoughts up for a good five minutes while she poked and prodded
my most personal parts. When she finished and let me sit back up, she asked,
“Have you been sexually active since you were infected?”

Rearranging my thin, borrowed robe to cover myself, I
blushed, wondering if she’d been able to tell just by looking.
Well, this is
embarrassing.
“Um…yeah.”

“Have you considered procreating?”

I almost laughed, but instead emitted a part-choke,
part-cough. “No.”

“The human population has been drastically reduced. We’ve
started a program here to help keep us from the risk of extinction. There are
quite a few desirable men here, and you’re a young, healthy woman. You might
consider—”

My eyes narrowed involuntarily. “You mean, you guys started
a breeding program?”

“That’s not exactly—”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’m not a broodmare. Besides, I’ve
got my hands full with Jason. And you
really
don’t want to see what he’d
do to any of your ‘desirable men’ if they, you know, tried to ‘breed’ with me.”
And yes, I used air quotes. I suddenly wished I had my knives and my little
pistol. But I’d left all my weapons in the tent with Jason.
Damn, I really
am
an idiot.

A minuscule smile curved the doctor’s lips, and she moved
her head in the barest of nods. “You’re lucky to have found so many people from
your hometown who survived. Bodega Bay is quite small, if I’m not mistaken,”
she commented. She sat on her black, wheeled stool and moved my folder to her
lap to make some more notes.

Is she fishing for information?
It felt like she was,
but I didn’t really care. I was tired, concussed, and felt ill at both the possibility
that my friends were hurt and the idea of being passed from man to man in an
attempt to impregnate me. Finally, I answered, “Not exactly. Like I told you, pretty
much everyone is from other places. There were a handful of survivors back home,
but not the people who really mattered to us.”
Not Grams…not Zo’s dad…

“Interesting.” Dr. Wesley continued writing on one of the
pieces of paper in the folder.

Is she writing down what I’m telling her?
It was time
for a subject change. “I, um…I’d really like to get back to my friends. Do you
know when I’ll be able to leave?”

“We’ll want to make sure your head is healed, and it’ll be
at least a week before we’ll be certain you’re back to normal.”

“And if I want to leave earlier?”

Dr. Wesley pursed her lips before responding. “You’ll have
to ask General Herodson about that. He makes all final decisions regarding
arrivals and departures.”

What is this, a freaking airport?
“And when will I be able
to see
him
?” I asked. From what I knew, generals were sort of high up in
the don’t-give-a-shit-about-nobodies-like-me hierarchy.

There was a soft knock on the door. Dr. Wesley turned her
head toward it and called, “Come in.”

MG—blond, well over six feet, and easily one of the most
intelligent people I’d ever met—eased the dull gray door open. He was handsome,
with bold features and pale blue eyes, and his hair, reaching mid-neck when
loose, was pulled back into a low, tidy ponytail. With him was another person,
a slightly portly young man wearing light blue scrubs and a blank, complacent
expression. MG turned to the side, letting the other man enter the room. He did
so silently, stopping beside Dr. Wesley.

The doctor held out her hand in MG’s direction, her pointer
finger upraised to halt his words before he had a chance to speak. She looked
up at the other man. “AJ, can you please prep this for me?” she asked as she
tore off a sheet from a prescription pad and handed it to him.

The young man—AJ—accepted the slip of paper. “Of course, Dr.
Wesley. Would you like me to do this immediately?” His voice was monotonous,
sounding almost robotic.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Very well, Dr. Wesley. I will do it right now. Is there
anything else you would like me to do?”

With a small smile, the doctor shook her head. “Thank you,
AJ.”

“You are welcome,” AJ said before he turned and left the
room. The entire exchange was just…odd.

“Lively new assistant you’ve got there, Wes,” MG said. He
flashed Dr. Wesley a breathtaking smile, earning a glare. “Sorry I didn’t
explain about Dani earlier. It probably surprised you when you realized she
wasn’t your normal type of patient.”

“Yes, well, a heads-up would’ve been nice, Gabriel,” the
doctor replied tersely.

“C’mon, Wes, I didn’t have a chance. You’ve been busy with
Re-gens and T-Rs all morning. I just wanted her to see the best, and you know
brains better than anyone.”

Dr. Wesley snorted delicately and shook her head, but I
could tell she was trying to hide a smile.

MG’s eyes flicked to me, and I was almost certain I glimpsed
worry in their pale blue depths. “So, are you done with Dani?”

“Yes, I am.” Dr. Wesley reclaimed my gaze. “I believe the
answer to your question of when you’ll get to see General Herodson would be: right
now. Gabriel will take you to him.”

4

DANI

MARCH
15, 1AE

After shooting one last, thoughtful glance my way, Dr.
Wesley left the sterile examination room, shutting the door with a soft click.
I hopped down from the exam table and wrapped the thin robe around me more
tightly. Neither the hospital gown nor the robe was very substantial, and MG
was still in the room. I was feeling more than a little self-conscious.

Gone was the flirty, self-assured MG I’d befriended in
dreamland months ago. As the door had shut behind Dr. Wesley, MG had transformed
into a brooding, somber man I barely recognized. An ever-present crease had
formed between his eyebrows, and he exuded tension. So, what had changed?
Is
he unhappy to see me? Does he not want me here?
That was fine with me; I
was eager to get back to my friends anyway.
But I thought
we
were
friends.

Clearing his throat, MG handed me the canvas sack he’d
brought with him. When I peeked inside, all I could think was,
Hallelujah!
He’d given me clothes—glorious, much more substantial clothes. Not that my
current attire really counted as “clothes,” but still. Out of the bag I pulled
a t-shirt, a sports bra, cotton underwear, sweatpants, and a hoodless
sweatshirt—all gray—and set each item on the padded exam table. Both tops had
AIR
FORCE
written across the chest in black, blocky letters. There was also a
new pair of soft, white socks and some equally bland sneakers. It was like my
birthday, post-apocalypse style.

“Thanks,” I said, setting the empty bag on the floor. I
flicked my eyes from him to the door and back. I was thankful for the clothes,
but not enough to do an impromptu strip show. “Um…do you mind?”

MG cocked his head to the side, and the crease between his
eyebrows deepened.

“I’d like to change…
without
an audience,” I
clarified.

A normal MG reaction would’ve included a flirty quip
accompanied by a devilish smile. I received neither. Frowning, he mumbled, “Of
course. Sorry,” and slipped out of the room.

I locked the door and twisted the knob to double-check the
lock before shrugging out of my thin robe and thinner hospital gown. The new
clothes were generic, but clean, and far better than my previous attire. To
finish the couch potato–chic look, I secured my wild auburn curls in a fluffy
ponytail using a rubber band I found in one of the drawers below the counter.

“Ready,” I almost said when I emerged from the little room
into a hallway, but the word died on my lips. MG was nowhere in sight. In fact,
I couldn’t see anybody at all. There were only shut doors, and faint whispers.
I could hear people talking softly a short ways off.

I concentrated on my Ability, planning to open myself to
what Chris called “observation mode” to figure out where the whisperers were
and whether or not MG was one of them, but I hit a mental wall. It was like the
telepathic part of my brain was partitioned off, and I couldn’t access it
at
all
. It was exactly how I felt when Jason was nulling my Ability. Genius
that I wasn’t in my concussed state, it took me longer than necessary to
realize there were three options: the strength of Jason’s Ability had increased
massively and he was nulling everyone within a fifty mile radius of camp, Jason
was nearby, or somebody else on the base had an Ability similar to his. I was
betting it was the last.

Alright
,
I told myself,
I’ll just have to
do this the old-fashioned way.
Sneaking around and eavesdropping have
always been two of my strongest skills, so I started sneaking and prepared to
eavesdrop.

The hallway outside the exam room was barren, extending in
both directions for a noticeable distance. Moving to the left, I hugged the far
wall. Ever so slowly, in absolute silence, I crept toward the voices. They were
soft, muted to a whisper, and completely unintelligible and unidentifiable. I
couldn’t even tell if they were male or female. There was only one
solution—moving closer.

I peeked around the corner. As far as I could tell, the
conversing pair was in another exam room, just a few yards down the hall. The
door was cracked open, muffling their words. As I listened, I became as still
and silent as humanly possible.

“—you sure?” one voice whispered.

“I think so,” the other responded.

A sigh was followed by the first voice saying, “Damn, Wes. I
was expecting more of a fight. What made you agree so quickly?”

Wes…that’s what MG called Dr. Wesley.
At least I knew
who I was spying on. Still, I didn’t announce my presence.

“She’s a perfect candidate, that’s all,” Dr. Wesley
whispered.

A perfect candidate for
what
, exactly? That
breeding program?
My face scrunched in disgust.

“Besides,” she continued, “I figured this was what you
wanted when you sent her to me instead of the doctor she’d been assigned.”

“Wow, Wes. I mean, I expected your usual, ‘Caution, Gabriel,
caution,’ and ‘Patience won’t kill us, but a mistake will.’ I’m pleasantly
surprised,” MG whispered, closely followed by a chuckle. “No need to glare.”

“With you, there’s always a need to glare.” After a brief
moment, Dr. Wesley said, “I need some time to prepare it, to tune it to her
blood. It should be ready in about twelve hours.”

Tune it to my blood? Tune
what
to my blood?
I
wondered.
Crap! I shouldn’t have told her anything about the others.
I
was starting to feel a whole lot less comfortable about being in the Colony,
and a whole lot more excited about meeting with that General person and bidding
the unsettling place adieu. And I’d already been
very
excited about
doing that.
God, Jason and Zo had better be okay…

“That long?” MG asked.

“You forget, we haven’t had a new candidate for weeks,” the
doctor explained. “I don’t have any of the neutralizer ready. I can’t just
leave it around…”

Neutralizer?
As I listened, I was getting more and
more wigged out. I considered hightailing it out of the hospital and trying to
find my own way out of the Colony without MG, Dr. Wesley, or whoever this
General guy was.
Maybe nobody’ll even notice me leaving?
But then I
remembered what the doctor had said about the General—that he makes the final
decision on all arrivals and departures. If nobody came or went without his
approval, I was betting there were some pretty heavy measures preventing people
from just walking out.
Nightfall
. It would be much safer to sneak out on
my own after nightfall. I could wait that long.

“It’s fine, Wes. I owe you,” MG said softly, no longer a
whisper. I’d heard his voice sound like that, kind and caring, in my dreams. I
knew exactly what expression he was wearing—his forehead wrinkled, and his
eyebrows drawn together. “I’ll come by your office first thing in the morning
to pick it up, alright?”

“Gabriel.” The doctor said MG’s true name like it was a
warning. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to save me.”

“Wes, I—”

“No! I don’t deserve—”

“Wes,” MG repeated, his tone dropping.

“Enough, Gabriel. You have things to do, as do I. I’ll have
it ready in the morning. Until then, I’d suggest you…”

Wanting to
not
get caught snooping, I backed away
from the juncture of hallways, reopened the exam room’s door, and shut it
loudly. “MG?” I called, purposely looking in the opposite direction—down the
hall to the right.

“Dani,” he said as he rounded the expected corner. I turned
to face him. “Are you ready?”

I shrugged, aiming for nonchalance, even though I felt
anything but. “Sure, now’s as good of a time as any. So where’s this General
guy? On another floor or something?”

“Uh, no. He’s in another building. It’s a short walk, about
a half mile,” MG said, stopping a few feet from me.

Hugging myself, I slouched and whined, “A half mile? But my
head feels like it’s going to explode.”

Abruptly, Dr. Wesley came bustling around the corner.
“That’s what this is for,” she said, holding up a syringe. “And these,” she
added, proffering a small, orange prescription bottle.

I took a step backward. Needles didn’t bug me, but after the
conversation I’d just overheard, I wasn’t letting her inject me with anything.
“Uh, thanks, but I’m not big on shots.”

She shook her head and pressed her lips together. “It’s just
Toradol. You’ll thank me for it. I shouldn’t really be giving you this anyway,
not with the concussion, but in your case, it’ll do more good than harm.”

For the briefest moment, I gazed at the syringe in longing.
Pain
relief…
And then, I backed away another step. Any crazy drug could’ve been
in that plastic tube. I didn’t know what MG and the doctor were involved in,
but it had sounded like they were planning to induct me—involuntarily. “Like I
said, I’m not a fan of needles. I can live with the pain.”

The doctor raised one shoulder. “Suit yourself.” Handing me
the prescription bottle, she said, “Ibuprofen. You can start taking them in the
morning. And, whatever you do, don’t go to sleep tonight.”

I groaned, already feeling like I was about to fall asleep
standing up.

“I mean it,” Dr. Wesley said. She gave my former dream
invader a meaningful look. “Gabriel?”

MG raised his hand, boy scout–style. “I’ll make sure she
stays awake by any means necessary. I promise.”

Again, the doctor’s lips pressed together in a thin, flat
line.

Wearing a wide grin, MG said, “And on that note, we’ll just
be on our way.”

Before following him down the hallway, I spared a few
seconds to study the doctor, trying to discern what her deal was. She’d gone
from standoffish to helpful to considering me as a candidate for something
unknown to me and wanting to attune a
neutralizer
to my
blood
.
She returned my stare, her own eyes searching.
What’s she looking for?

It wasn’t until I’d rounded two corners—one left, one
right—that I caught up to MG and fell in step beside him. He slowed so I didn’t
have to jog to keep up with his much longer strides. The corridors were far more
vacant than any hospital, doctor’s office, or clinic I’d ever visited before
the Virus, and the emptiness gave me the willies. That, and the electricity.

Evenly spaced lights shone from the ceiling with a bright,
artificial glow. They hummed. It was annoying. For several months, I’d been
without electricity of any kind. There had been no overhead lights in the
middle of the night, no showers spraying deliciously hot water, no microwaves,
and no washing machines. My people and I had reverted back to the basics and
had grown accustomed to a simpler way of life. I couldn’t get over how loud the
electricity was; it buzzed incessantly, threatening to drive me insane.

“What? No elevator?” I asked as I stepped through a doorway
behind MG. Seconds later, the door thudded closed, leaving us alone in a gray-
and white-toned stairwell.

MG chuckled. “We make an effort to conserve the energy we
have.”

Right
, I thought,
keep telling yourself that.
To
power the hospital alone, they needed a mini power plant. I frowned.
Where
are
they getting the energy?

“It’s just one flight down. The elevators use too much power
to be worth it,” MG explained.

“Hmmm…” I mumbled, slowly making my way down rubber-edged,
cement stairs. With every step, it felt like glass shards were slicing through
my tender, mushed brain. My face scrunched in an extended cringe.

MG caught my arm, stopping my descent. “I can get us a car
if you don’t think you can make it.” Worry coated his voice, cracking through
my pain and temporarily shelving my wariness.

I met his eyes—his gentle, caring eyes—and wondered if
whatever he and Dr. Wesley were involved with wasn’t really a bad thing…or
maybe it was a
really
bad thing. The plan was to play it cool and get
the General’s permission to leave. The backup plan was to play it cool, then
get the hell out of this place once the sun went down.

“I’m fine,” I told MG. “You know, it’s crazy that you could
just do that…get us a car.”

“I forget that things are different out there,” MG said as
we continued down the stairs. Even though we moved slowly, our footsteps still
echoed in the stairwell above us, along with our voices.

We reached the door at the bottom landing, and I pressed my
hands against the cool metal of the push bar. On the other side of the door, I
found another hallway and a wall of windows—it was all that separated me from
the outside world. After spending so much time outdoors over the past few
months, being confined within layers and layers of walls was almost abhorrent.
I couldn’t escape fast enough.

Finally, I stepped out into the late winter sunshine, closed
my eyes, and took a deep breath…and then I took another. The cool air tasted
heavenly.

“You sure you’re okay?” MG asked.

“Yeah, breath of fresh air and all that. So”—I opened my
eyes and found him standing in front of me, still looking concerned—“where to,
MG?”

“Gabe. My name is Gabe.” He sounded tired.

“Okay…
Gabe
.” The name felt wrong on my tongue; he
would always be MG to me. “Where are we headed? There?” I asked, pointing to a
large, boxy concrete building across the street. I knew it wasn’t our destination—he’d
already told me
that
was a half mile away—but I needed to get my
bearings. Familiarity could breed a lot of things, including a better backup
plan.

“No.” MG began walking up the right side of a mostly empty
two-lane road, and I followed, staying close to his side.