Endgame (Book 2): Alekhine's Gun

by W. A. R.

  Silence again while she considered this piece of information. “Hmmm, guess I took the right one as hostage.” She hesitated. “He’s not really just ‘in charge’…he is more of a…dictator. Am I right?” she asked, aware that everyone had widened their eyes at her words. They had not expected her to ask these people that type of question.

  “Yes.” Ryder again supplied her in a low voice, as if not wanting to get caught.

  “Why would you willingly offer up that information?”

  It was a good question, one that she knew the others were silently asking. “We have our reasons.”

  “I would like to speak to him.” She demanded, her words in no way polite or amiable. She was determined and she hoped that they would oblige her request. Her hopes were soon dashed, however, at their next words.

  She could sense their tension. “I can’t do that. No one can reach him until we are back at the compound.”

  “Then how did you all receive your orders not to harm us?” she asked quickly, her fury beginning to build yet again. She remembered the gun in her face, in Buddy’s and Derek’s faces, and how the men had refused to fire them. She shuddered at the memory.

  “If you know that then you know we have been here for three months. We sent a messenger with who we found and information on each of you. He came back two days later with the orders.”

  “My father was murdered and my cousin left to die.” She snapped in defiance, despite her will to remain calm. “What about them?”

  She heard the man sigh heavily. “That was beyond his control and mine.” He admitted to her. Things again grew silent and she swallowed back the bittersweet feeling she got from his words. She couldn’t trust them; she couldn’t…so why did she want to?

  She thought about this for a moment but decided not to pursue it any further. Amber wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not. “Any more questions or can I talk to one of my people?”

  Ryder thought about this for a moment. “Let me speak to Damien first.”

  There was silence for a moment before the radio crackled. “He’s is tied up. He can’t come talk.” She told him nervously, hoping it didn’t ruin her chances of getting to speak to her people. “Please understand that I have had to do what I’ve done.” She felt as if she were on the brink of pleading with the man on the other end of the communication. “May I speak to my people, now?” she asked, refusing to hide the disgust in her voice.

  “What have you done to him?” Ryder asked her, though not bitterly in the least; merely…curious.

  “May I speak to my people, now?” she repeated, unwavering. “I held up my end of the bargain. I answered your questions.” And she was right, she did. She rubbed her free hand nervously over her knee, biting her bottom lip as the silence became deafening. They had cut her off; they had cut off communication and she felt the sting of tears behind her eyes whenever Ryder’s voice once again pierced the air around her.

  “You have two minutes, three tops. After that this radio will be turned off. Do not contact this radio again or your people will be hurt. Can you do that for me?” he asked of her. He did not say it threateningly; instead, his words acted as a warning. She respected that and yet still it hurt. Ryder was giving her this chance, and in fact, Amber should be grateful for the opportunity. Her heart picked up its pace and her breathing grew heavy. She wasn’t sure what to think, his kindness throughout the conversation and willingness to let them talk tugged at her and she was at a loss.

  Amber hesitated a very long moment before answering. “I won’t be able to speak to them again?”

  Ryder hesitated. “I’m not sure. We would have to contact you and I’m not sure when we could again.” he paused briefly before continuing, as if finally deciding something he had been warring with himself over. “Understand the seriousness with which I tell you all of this. By my allowing this to happen, I am placing your life, their lives, and mine on the line so unless I contact your directly, I need you to maintain radio silence. I’m sorry.” His words were like a slap to the face. She wanted to hate the man, and yet she couldn’t. She became desperate.

  “What can I do to get them back? What do your people want? We can work something out.” she asked, her voice saddened, and maybe even a little tired.

  “There is nothing you can do.” He replied sternly.

  “I’ll trade myself for them…please” she began pleadingly but the others around her jumped at her statement, eyes widened and startled at her words.

  “They will not let them go.” He told her firmly “I am trying to do what I can to help you. I really am.” And she realized he was telling her the truth, the sincerity in his words reaching her through the radio.

  “Why are you trying to help us?” she asked him, remembering the men on the radio the day previous, men that claimed to be friends. She swallowed, her mouth having gone dry as she awaited an answer from him. Maybe they were friends. When responding to the radio transmission, she had not expected what she had gotten. She expected hostility and anger, no compromise, and no civil conversation. And most definitely no information about them or their leader. Her mind was swimming and her heart teetering on whether or not she should trust this man or not.

  “Amber?” Miles’s voice reached through the truck, his voice hoarse. It was like a slap, his words, and it took the very breath from her lungs. She straightened, tears springing to her eyes and she felt the others close in around her, anxious to be assured.

  “Miles?” her voice trembled and she had to inhale deeply against the pain that roared over her. She eased up on her seat, one trembling hand gripping the steering wheel. Relief and anticipation rushed over her. She wanted to hold him, kiss him; love him.

  “Yeah…yeah it’s me…” he began but Amber cut him off before he could get another word in.

  “Oh, thank God…” she cried, tears snaking their way across her face and she knew that Miles could practically feel her heartache; he could see the tears flowing from those precious eyes of hers. He was broken, as was she, and neither one could mend the other. It tore her apart. “Are you okay? Brian? Shelly? Are they with you?” she asked quickly. Two to three minutes was all they had. Fifteen seconds had passed.

  “Yeah…they are fine. We are all fine.” He assured her and quickly he spoke again. “Is Kyle really…” and he stopped, unable to finish the sentence.

  “Yes…” she choked on a sob and it hurt. She shook with the willpower that it took for her to hold back the intensity of her cries. “Brittany and Elva Jo didn’t make it…Biters…” she said and the transmission stopped, she was unable to continue. She was trying so desperately to stay strong through the heartache.

  “Amber, is everyone else alright? Are you alright?” he asked and she felt her bottom lip tremble.

  “I’m fine. Where are y’all? Tell me something; anything.” She demanded, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

  “I’m not sure where we are. But it is alright. Don’t try to come after us. Please.” He begged of her and she felt the sadness lacing his words. He meant every word, and that clawed at her fragile heart. She shook her head in despair, knowing that he couldn’t see her. She was no longer aware of everyone else around her; all she could see was the radio.

  “Where are they taking you? When are you leaving? What is around you?” she asked, her questions coming out in rapid fire succession before she forced herself to stop so he could answer. A minute had passed. Her heart felt as if it were going to explode.

  He was silent for a moment before speaking. “We are leaving in a week, but we don’t know where we are going, and there is nothing around us. Please stay wherever you are.” He ordered, his voice more desperate than it was before. She knew then that even if he had an answer to any of those questions he wouldn’t tell her for her own safety. “I can’t even begin to describe how thankful I am you are all alive.” He told her, and she knew then that he was struggling against the overwhelming emotion they were both feeling. She began feel
ing desperate, closing her eyes tightly against the pain.

  “Miles…” she choked on a sob, uncaring if the other man or men in the room heard her. “Please…give me something…let me help you…”

  “Look, I don’t have long and this may be the last time I…the last time I ever speak to you.” He told her and she felt everything around her collapsing.

  “No.” she shook her head stubbornly. “Don’t you dare say that to me.” It hurt, accepting what was happening. It shook her down to her very core, tearing at her already shattered soul. She wanted to scream for help, but who was there to cry to?

  “Amber, listen to me.” He demanded sternly and she bit her bottom lip to keep from arguing with him. “Tell Rick that Brian is sorry…for everything.” She whimpered, refusing to interrupt him. “Tell Cassie and Elliot that I am sorry that I broke my promise and that I couldn’t make it back and Buddy…thank him for keeping his.” She struggled against protesting, shaking her head wildly at his words. Things became silent for a moment as she cried.

  “Miles…” she whimpered before releasing the button, unsure of what to say. Miles radioed back before her mind even had a chance to formulate a response. A minute and a half

  “Amber…I know what you’re thinking and I am begging you: don’t. Brian loves you. Shelly loves you.” He hesitated then, his voice cracking. “I love you.” No, no, no…he was giving up. He sincerely didn’t want her to go after them, and she knew that Brian didn’t either. That was who they were and it was one reason why she had loved them so much. Had loved? No. She still did and she did so with a vengeance. “Don’t come for us. Stay safe and stay where you are.” A brief moment’s hesitation. “Remember everything and don’t forget us.” He quickly rushed the words out and all too suddenly it cut off. Static filled the truck. Amber felt her heart begin racing and her breathing deepened as if the air was jerked cruelly from her lungs. She pressed the button, her eyes snapping open and staring at the CB radio.

  “Miles?” she asked, her voice tinged with hope. She swallowed and waited a moment before trying again. “Miles?” she inquired once again, tears falling from her lashes and trailing down her cheeks. She turned the radio off and then on again when there was no response. “Miles? Don’t do this to me!” she exclaimed and after a moment’s hesitation there was still no answer. “Come back.” She whimpered, unable to see everyone’s saddened eyes around her. No, instead all she saw was the blurry, filthy floorboard of the truck…blood staining the seats, dirt gritty on plastic. She lowered her head in defeat and dropped the microphone from her hand, crying. The plastic banged against the plastic floorboard of the truck and echoed in her ears. No one made a sound as the anger took over her and she banged her tightened fists against the dashboard, cracking it. She yelled incoherently, crying. Her knuckles throbbed from the impact, but she didn’t care to notice. Instead, she hit it again and again, furious and desperate before finally giving up and cradling her face in the palms of her hands.

  Everything was silent even after she stopped moving, as she sat there in her desperation. She was crying, the tears hot and tasting of salt and bitterness, and her shoulders trembled and shook under the weight that was given her. She couldn’t make any sense of the muddled mess that was her tired mind. She had lost so much within the past twenty-four hours, had dug one grave for her father, found Rick, and fought a battle she was not equipped to fight. She hadn’t slept in more than twenty-four hours either. Her hands were blistered and crimson from two days before, her head tender and dried crimson as well from the day before. In a word she was exhausted, running on fumes and barely able to comprehend everything that happening around her. Was it all just an unreal nightmare or was she in the very depths of the hell she was so frightened of? Either way, she was furious and aching and either way, it wasn’t fair. She wanted to kill them all. A strong, gentle hand slid across her shoulders, urging her to turn towards them and she willingly did, her head falling to their side as she cried. They stroked her back in comfort, letting her cry.

  She heard sniffles from others, Cassie’s heart wrenching sobs as she leaned against Rick, having already dropped her shovel to the ground beneath her feet. No one said a word, and it went on this way for at least five long minutes. The blood roared in Amber’s ears as she struggled to compose her breaking body and her diminishing emotional state. She felt defeated, a failure, and she knew that that was the entirety of what she was. She was no leader as Buddy had said she would be. She had let them all down, every single one of them. She didn’t care if they thought her weak as she had sat there and mourned over the loss of her people. She didn’t care if they thought she was too tired and needed rest. Really, she didn’t. The one thing that was on her mind then was that she wasn’t going to risk anymore lives; not that she even had a choice before. Still, she wasn’t going to do it.

  “What…” Bobby-Jean cleared her throat. “What are we going to do?” she asked and Amber lifted her tired, burning eyes to her mother who stood, tears flowing freely down her face beside Cassie. She wanted to scoff at her mother in her deliriousness, but instead she didn’t. She glanced up at her comforter, Buddy, and he at her, his blue eyes offering her a security that she needed but didn’t want. She felt sick, weak, and yet still she knew what he was telling her to do. He was telling her to take charge, after all, she was their leader now and for that she hated him, at least just a little. Amber sighed, trying to make sense of her muddled mind. Nothing seemed to make sense in her thoughts anymore.

  “What in the hell just happened?” Derek asked to no one in particular.

  “So…Damien is the boss’s son?” Katie asked then in surprise and uncertainty.

  “We have no idea where they are…” Jacob picked up. Their voices began overlapping. They echoed in her ears and she couldn’t distinguish between their unique characteristics enough to determine who had said what.

  “They’re alive. We have to do something.”

  “What? What are we going to do? What can we do?”

  “They seemed cooperative…”

  “The man seemed like he wanted to help…”

  “If he wanted to help, they wouldn’t be prisoners for some twisted dictatorship.”

  “Everyone,” Amber began, not raising her voice in the slightest. Very slowly every pair of eyes turned to her as she eased from the truck, sparing one more desperate glance at the microphone that lay on the floor of the truck. It was done then, and she knew very well that she may never hear their voices again, and the thought brought so much pain to her than she thought possible in her given state. She knew what she had to do, for herself at least, for the three that were taken. She understood that communication was key, but right then, she knew they were all just as tired, drained, and confused as she was. Emotions were at war with one another and there was nothing that could be done to alleviate some of them other than time. “Excuse me.” She swallowed, refusing to let that happen and before the thoughts could begin haunting her, she shoved through the crowd, aiming for the house. She felt the numbness begin to seep its way back into her bones. She felt the presence of both George and Buddy behind her, and none of them said a word as they left the others in a surprised wake. Once they entered the house, away from all the others, however, the tables turned and Buddy’s strong hand on her arm jerked her around. She stumbled, clearly startled from his actions.

  “Amber, what are you thinking?” George asked, though not bitterly. No, he was instead concerned and upon seeing this she shrugged. She wasn’t about to bring them down with her. She couldn’t. Still, she wasn’t going to lie.

  “I need to talk to Damien. I just need a few things from in here before I go.” She said, defeated. Buddy dropped his hold on her upper arm, both men staring hard down at the woman that was determined to take on the world herself for those that she cared about. She had to. The radio conversation changed things. Her people were for certain alive and that meant that there was still a chance to save them. She had to act f
ast.

  Buddy sighed, his blue eyes saddened, which was a surprise for Amber to say the least. “You are thinking of doing this on your own. We can see it in your eyes.” And he was completely right, she knew. Still, her gaze grew heated and the look she gave him slashed him deep.

  “Buddy, I am no leader. I lost my own son yesterday.” She said tiredly. “I can’t lose anyone else. I refuse to.”

  “Amber…” George began but she turned from him and aimed for the enormous kitchen, digging through drawers for tools. The back door sounded and footsteps were heard thundering up the stairs. He sighed. “You are in charge, whether you like it or not. You always have been. Why do you think they were so interested in you? Why do you think Derek told you first about the radio transmission?”

  Buddy shifted on the balls of his feet and stepped forward to another drawer opposite her, looking through them as well. “And everything that happened yesterday…none of it was your fault. You need to understand that and accept it. We all blame ourselves for losing all of them.”

  “What we did was short notice. It is a miracle that we survived. What did you tell that asshole, Ryder?” George asked and Amber swallowed back the pain of the conversation. “Our nine people to their twenty?” he asked and Amber shrugged, hearing more footsteps echo throughout the large house. She felt the urge to do everything alone, to avoid the pain of losing others. “You think you’re weak? You are so far from wrong. You are one of the strongest people I know. That is exactly why you are going to talk to Damien because you aren’t giving up.”

  “I am trying to do the right thing here.” She said desperately, albeit angrily, as she slammed the drawer shut and turned to another, slinging it open roughly. It cut her, his words. She certainly felt weak, and she tried constantly to bring herself up out of it.

  “So are we.” George countered and Amber swung her eyes to meet his. More footsteps sounded thundering down the stairs. Amber ignored them, swallowing the lump in her throat before speaking to the two men.