End Game (Games Thriller Series)

by J. E. Taylor

  “Lawyer and family friend.” He flipped one of his cards in the direction of the paramedic and received a nod in response. “Is he going to be okay?” The paramedic glanced at Sam with uncertainty and Sam blew air out audibly. He looked down at the phone in his hand and shuffled through the pictures captured on the disc. The bloody scene transitioned to the wedding scene and he shook his head, bringing his gaze back to the knife.

  The paramedic reached and grabbed a small plastic bag, handing it to Sam. “I’m sure he won’t want to lose those things.”

  The bag contained Chris’s necklace, watch and wedding band and Sam creased his eyebrows looking between the bag and the paramedic.

  He shrugged a little. “It happens.”

  Sam nodded and pocketed the jewelry for safekeeping.

  Chapter 33

  Chris opened his eyes to pitch black—blackness so thick he couldn’t even see his own hand when it touched his face. He reached around trying to find a reference point in the dark and called her name. The sound of his voice fell flat and his heart began to race, fear fueling it to octane level.

  He froze in place, paralyzed, afraid to move in any direction.

  The hand descended on his shoulder, making him jump and twirl around.

  Christopher Aris stood shrouded in blackness. “Hey bro, it’s been a while.”

  Chris threw his arms around his little brother. “Jesus, Chris. Way to scare the shit out of me,” he said and pulled away scanning the ambient light surrounding them and the darkness beyond. “Am I dead?”

  “Close, but not quite,” Christopher replied. “I’m touched you took my name.” He smiled, changing the subject.

  Chris shrugged. “It was my way out.”

  “I know,” Christopher said. “And you named your son after me too. That’s quite humbling.”

  Chris smiled at his brother. “I married her.”

  “I know.”

  “Is Jessica okay?” Chris asked as the last coherent image drifted back into his mind.

  “That’s not for me to say.”

  Panic spread through his limbs, weighing them down. “I need to save her. How do I get back?”

  “It’s not that easy, Ty. You have to give up some things.” He looked at his hands and then back at his brother.

  “Anything for my family.”

  “It’s actually a few things.”

  “Whatever it is, the answer’s yes.”

  “You don’t want to agree without knowing the terms, Ty.”

  “You don’t understand, this is my family. I’ll do whatever it takes to save them.”

  “For starters, you have to give up your soul,” Christopher said.

  “Fine, my soul is already condemned.”

  “That’s the thing, Ty, Eric and Jessica did more than heal you, bro. They literally saved your soul.”

  “You mean I can actually go to heaven?”

  Christopher nodded. “Yes, but if you make that choice, your whole family will die today and they will die painfully.” He paused. “You saw the dream.”

  Chris nodded, he remembered. “Are you in heaven?”

  Christopher shook his head solemnly. “No.”

  His answer hit Chris hard and he stepped back. “I’m sorry,” he said, knowing he failed to protect Christopher and at some level it was his fault his brother was condemned to hell for all eternity.

  “It isn’t your fault, Ty. I had just as much choice in what I did as you.”

  Chris turned his back on his brother for a moment, blinking away the sheen of tears, the crushing blow of failure derailing his thought process and he shook his head, focusing on the current situation. “Okay. What else?”

  “Your powers.”

  Chris nodded and looked over his shoulder at his brother. “What else?”

  “Sight or sound?”

  “What?”

  “You have to give up your sight or your hearing.”

  He looked at his brother in frustration.

  “Do you want to see them or hear them for the rest of your life?”

  “Both.”

  “You can’t have both.”

  Chris closed his eyes. This sucked and time was ticking. A decision had to be made otherwise he’d lose her anyway and he concentrated, seeing her in full color on his eyelids easily. But her voice, her voice was harder to recall and always had been, but her words were what he craved since day one and that clinched the decision. “I want to hear her say my name. Is that it?”

  “Afraid not. You have to choose who dies in your place.”

  “Not in a million years,” he replied, anger lining his flesh and clenching his fists.

  “Then everyone dies.”

  Chris thought for a few minutes. “Tom Whitman.”

  “He isn’t part of your family.”

  “Jesus, I can’t make a choice like that.”

  “You don’t want the choice to be made for you,” Christopher said, his eyes conveying the message that it would be the ones closest to him if he didn’t make the choice.

  “Can you guarantee that the rest will be all right if I choose?”

  “No, but if you don’t make a choice, they all die.”

  Chris considered this. “What happened to me? Why am I here?” He narrowed his eyes at his brother.

  “You were stabbed in the back and run over by your truck.”

  “Shit.”

  “Right now you are on the way to the hospital and Sam is in the ambulance with you. They gave him your jewelry, including the wedding band. He’s going to find out about you, Ty.”

  His only hope of getting his family out alive hinged on his next question. “If I agree to the deal and make a choice, will you make sure I’m completely healed?”

  Christopher thought about this for a minute and then nodded.

  “Who would you choose if you were me?”

  Christopher took a deep breath as he thought about his brother’s question. Ty loved Jessica and without her, he would self-destruct. His children were not an option either so that left Eric and Emily. “Emily,” he finally said.

  “Why?”

  “Because she’s had five more years than she should have.”

  “That doesn’t make it right.”

  “Ty, if you let them choose, it will be CJ,” Christopher replied.

  Chris sucked the air in and closed his eyes. “Tell me where they are.”

  “Deserted warehouse on the water near 52nd Street on the East side.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay what?” Christopher asked.

  “Okay, my powers, my soul, my sight...” he paused and made another painful choice, “and Emily in return for sending me back completely healed.”

  Christopher nodded.

  “Please don’t let her suffer.”

  His brother hesitated and then nodded.

  “How long do I have with them?” he asked.

  Christopher shrugged. “I love you, bro, I’ll see you when I see you.” He smiled and began to fade.

  * * * *

  “Back at you,” Chris said aloud at the precise moment the blade was pulled from his back. He felt the jolt and then the heat and pain as his body healed. He yelled out and sat up in the trauma room, his breath coming in short bursts. He looked around the room at the shocked medical staff.

  “Sam, Sam Trueman,” he said to the closest nurse. “In the waiting room. Get him now,” Chris barked the command to an almost hysterical nurse.

  “You shouldn’t even be alive,” she whispered in awe.

  “Get me Sam Trueman NOW!” He scanned the staff trying to read their thoughts but his mind was a blank.

  “Calm down, sir,” a doctor said from behind him, wiping a wet cloth over Chris’s back.

  “No!” Chris jumped off the table and spun toward the collection of doctors and nurses. “Get me my clothes and get me Sam now,” he said, trying to impart his influence on them. They stared back.

  “You just had this in you
r back,” the doctor said, holding up the bloody knife. “And you have lost a lot of blood.” He looked down at Chris’s legs and took an unsteady step forward. “You shouldn’t be able to stand on those legs.”

  Chris swung his gaze to one of the more lucid nurses. “Please,” he pleaded and she nodded, heading out into the waiting room.

  “I need to talk to my friend alone. Can you please find me something to wear?”

  The staff nodded and left the trauma room, leaving Chris alone. He took a deep breath as the weird conversation with his brother resounded in his mind.

  I should have killed Sharon when I had the chance.

  “Damn it,” he whispered. Jessica will never forgive me for making that choice.

  Chapter 34

  Sam stepped out of the ambulance after they carted Chris away and followed the path of doctors and nurses until they got to a trauma room, where he was blocked from entering and escorted to the waiting room. Sam called his wife and let her know that he would be a while. He took out the wedding ring and twirled it on his finger waiting for the news.

  Sam caught a hint of writing on the inside of the ring and read the inscription.

  Ty, a million years isn’t long enough. Yours forever, Jessica.

  The color in his face drained as he looked up at the door to the trauma room in disbelief. “Sweet Jesus.” Things began to click in his mind and everything finally made perfect sense. The only thing he couldn’t figure out was how he got rid of the scar.

  “Mr. Trueman?” A very pale nurse interrupted his thoughts.

  “Yes,” he said, pocketing the ring again.

  “Mr. Ryan is asking for you,” she said, looking extremely discombobulated.

  Sam stood and followed her. Chris sat on the edge of the trauma bed with a blanket draped over his waist, his legs dangling in full view and no hint of the damage he had seen in the ambulance. Although he was facing Sam, Sam knew that there would be no mark on his back if he were to turn.

  “Leave us,” Chris said to the nurse and she scurried out of the room. He slowly looked up and put his hand out expectantly, his eyes not quite meeting Sam’s.

  Sam looked at the wedding band in his hand and put it in Chris’s palm without a word and watched as he slid it on. He looked around the room to make sure they were indeed alone.

  “How?” he finally asked and Chris put his hand out again. Sam handed over the watch and necklace.

  “Are you still my attorney?”

  Sam considered saying no and then thought better of it. “Yes, attorney client privilege is still in effect,” he said, knowing that was what Chris was asking. “How?”

  “How what? How did I not die today or how did I not die in the complex?” He clasped the necklace around his neck and slid the watch on his wrist.

  “Where is Chris?” Sam asked, his voice hissing from his throat.

  “Frank blew Chris to bits along with his BMW.” Chris looked up at Sam. “I have to go,” he said and stood on wobbly legs.

  “Jesus,” Sam said and looked at the man who he thought he had known so well. “Is that why she did this to you, because of who you really are?”

  Chris looked at him in bewilderment, his eyebrows creasing and his head cocking to the side.

  “Jessica,” Sam said, reading the confusion in his face.

  * * * *

  Chris shook his head. “Jessica didn’t do this.” He looked around the room for something to wear. “I have to find her before that crazy bitch kills her and the rest of my family.”

  “What crazy bitch?” he asked and studied Chris’s face.

  “Sharon Whitman. It’s a long story,” he said and began to open up the cabinets. He found a cabinet full of blue scrubs with the hospital emblem and rifled through them until he found a pair of pants and a shirt in his size, sliding them on. “Will you help me?” He turned to look at Sam. “Please,” he said desperately. “My family’s in danger.”

  Sam nodded, still staring in disbelief. The color drained from his face.

  “Sam, I need you to help me, you can’t pass out on me,” Chris said and reached out to steady his only true friend outside of his wife.

  Sam nodded again. “How?” he asked.

  “Eric,” Chris replied. “Eric and Jessica,” he added. “I need to get back to the apartment and change before we go down to the docks at East 52nd Street,” he said and led Sam out of the trauma room. His wallet and keys had been in the truck and Chris sighed as they walked out of the hospital. His feet were freezing.

  “How?” Sam asked again from the comfort of the cab.

  “I’m not really sure. I just know Jessica is one very special lady.” He looked over at Sam. “I fell in love with her and against all odds, she fell for me. Eric, he’s the one who gave me the second chance because I saved his mom. He was only eight and so innocent. If he only knew...” Chris smiled a little and trailed off.

  “But how.”

  Chris shook his head as they pulled up in front of the apartment building. The forensic team was still in the garage and Chris headed in the front door. “Hi, Fred,” Chris said as he approached the front desk. “I need the spare key to the apartment.”

  Fred reached below the counter, opened the safe and pulled out the spare key to the penthouse, his eyes never leaving Chris’s. “But,” he said and handed the key over.

  “I know. It was just a flesh wound.” He shrugged and plucked the key out of Fred’s hand, looking over his shoulder at Sam.

  Sam followed him to the elevator.

  “Eric and Jessica have...” He took a breath and looked over at Sam. “I know this is going to sound crazy but they had the power to heal.” Along with other powers, he didn’t add. “Eric healed me.”

  “But he wasn’t there,” Sam said in confusion.

  Chris shrugged. “He kind of was.” He let out a laugh. “He and Jessica could...” He paused as he searched for the words. “Astral project to each other.” He shook his head as they entered the apartment. He had never told the story aloud and realized how certifiable it sounded. He glanced back at Sam and saw the expression that he expected. “I know. I sound certifiable, but that’s what happened. I will only be a minute.” Chris went into the bedroom, peeled off the scrubs and took a quick shower to wash off the blood. He quickly ran a towel over his wet hair and body and opened his closet to find what he was looking for. Chris pulled the black gi out of the closet and quickly threw the pants on; he was going to need all the latitude of movement that the karate outfit provided as well as the stealth of the black. He pulled open a drawer and found a black t-shirt and slipped that on before putting the black karate top over it. He tied the black belt around his waist and went in search of his black sneakers. He glanced at Sam as he walked through the living room to the foyer closet where the sneakers were and slipped them on. “Let’s roll,” he said, running his fingers through his wet hair.

  “Where are we going?”

  “We need your car and then you need to drop me off down at the docks at East 52nd Street.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s where they are.”

  Sam’s eyebrows shot into perfect arches. “How do you know where they are?”

  “Chris told me when I was dead.”

  “We should call the police.”

  Chris shook his head. “And say what. That my family was kidnapped and I know where they are because my dead brother told me? They will put me away and I will lose them. She will kill all of them.” Not just Emily, he thought and the pain sucked the wind from his chest.

  “Why?” Sam said as he followed Chris onto the elevator.

  “Because Tom left her and she blames Jess.”

  “That still doesn’t make sense.”

  “Not a whole lot of what has happened in my life makes sense, Sam.”

  “You don’t have a coat,” Sam observed as they walked out the front door and took a left turn heading toward his apartment building.

  “I’ll be fi
ne,” Chris said. He was on a mission and nothing was going to slow him down.

  “Ty,” Sam said and stopped.

  Chris looked over his shoulder. “What?” he barked.

  “What you and your brother did....”

  “Brothers, we all were involved,” he interrupted and grabbed Sam’s arm. “You can walk and talk, can’t you?”

  Sam blinked at his response. “Chris was involved?”

  “Yes,” Chris said. “I wiped out any record of his involvement. There is no proof that he ever set foot down there or that I am not him.” He looked at Sam. “Even if they did forensic DNA testing on the site where Chris blew up, it would come back as a possible relative, but not as Chris. For all intents and purposes, I am Chris. Medical records, dental records, identity and with your help I now legally have his name.”

  “Jesus,” Sam replied. He looked at the wedding band on Chris’s hand. “Who else knows besides Jessica?”

  Chris stopped. “Eric, Emily and Tom.” He looked over at Sam and then continued walking.

  “Tom Whitman knows you are alive?”

  Chris nodded. “Yes, he knows,” he said as they arrived at the apartment complex. “Do you have your car keys on you?”

  Sam nodded and Chris steered him into the garage.

  Sam unlocked the car and slid inside. He put the keys in the ignition but didn’t start the car. “Tom knows and he didn’t go to the police?” He looked over at Chris.

  “What exactly would he have said, Sam?” Chris buckled his seat belt. “That I was Ty Aris? Look at me, there are no scars on my face, no scars where the bullets went in, no fingerprints of mine down there, no DNA to trace back. I cleaned the place down to the microscopic level before I left. Nothing recorded that could lead back to this face, back to Chris.” He shrugged and smiled. “He didn’t exactly like that when I pointed it out to him either. Drive, Sam.”

  Sam turned over the ignition. “I’m still struggling here,” he said and backed out of the parking spot.

  “I’m sure you have a million questions, but I don’t have time right now.” Chris took a deep breath. “At least one person is going to die today, and I have to stop her from killing the rest.” He looked out the window as they headed toward the Eastside Highway. “I’m not sure that I’ll make it out alive either,” he said and glanced back at Sam. “If I don’t come out within a half hour, you can call the cops, deal?”