by W. A. R.
Quickly, his heart began pounding, hammering wildly against his ribs and he had to force himself to climb, to race up the tree. His hands were trembling and his nerves drew taut. He climbed higher and higher faster than he ever had before and when he finally found a good place he settled himself, bringing his gun to the front and resting it in his hands. He closed one eye and steadied the gun, looking intently through the scope. Sweat beading on his brow, some rolling down the back of his neck but he didn’t notice. All he could focus on was Amber standing there, hands on her hips, watching as a military type truck turned into the parking lot, bypassing a few Biters that were coming towards Amber. She stood silently and watched, waiting. George waited as well, his entire body rigid. It slowed to a stop just a few feet from where she stood and she watched with interest as four men climbed from the cab. Four men. That was all. Still, George placed aim on one in the back, knowing that someone else would take the ringleader, the man that was making his way towards her. They all appeared cautious, and within reason they should, George thought. They didn’t reach for their weapons, and so Amber didn’t reach for hers.
She smiled. “You showed up.” She told them all condescendingly and George wondered where she mustered up the willpower and courage to act that way towards the enemy. He recalled how confident she had been with Lance, how venomous her words had been and how her actions in the end, ultimately changed the person that she was. Regardless, he was impressed. That good feeling disappeared however, whenever the man in front crossed his arms too quickly. Amber immediately reached for her gun, pulling it from the waistband of her jeans and aiming it at him. His eyes widened and he threw his hands up while his cronies retrieved their weapons and aimed them at her. The man swallowed.
“You survived.” The man replied, twisting his hands and urging the others to lower their weapons. Amber remained calm, her hand steady as they did this. Her weapon did not lower. The man appeared fascinated...almost surprised and grateful.
She smirked at him. “Some of us did…. yes.” she swallowed and her words were like a stabbing pain within his chest. She cleared her throat. The man looked at her with a saddened expression, and it was actually sincere.
“I heard what happened. I sincerely apologize and offer my condolences.” He replied, his voice dropping an octave as if to emphasize the regret with which he said the words. Amber never wavered. She seemed to be battling with something internally, her eyes almost furrowed into an expression of confusion. “Ryder informed me of your conversation.”
This made Amber smile and she ignored his previous sincerity. “Of course he did. Wouldn’t expect any less.”
The man looked around slowly, taking in their surroundings before turning back to her. “I know your people are around here. Good for you. My question is this: where is Damien?” he asked and the malicious grin that formed on her cracked lips was so twisted that even George felt uncomfortable, even though it only vaguely reached her eyes. Slowly with her free hand, she reached into her pocket and retrieved a blue colored cloth. It was wrapped tightly around a sort of small package and she held it up for them to see with two fingers. She glanced at the man in charge and nodded at him before tossing the cloth in the air. He reached out and caught it, seemingly apprehensive about opening it. Again, Amber studied the man and her brows furrowed in confusion.
“Be sure to tell his ‘daddy’ that he is still alive, though not for much longer.” She told them, watching with interest as the man slowly unwound the cloth. He narrowed his eyes, squinting into his hand as the cloth fell open and quickly, he dropped it. George started a little, surprised at what fell to the hot ground below. On the ground were Damien’s fingers, ear, and his tongue. The man turned his gaze up to Amber. The men around him saw what lay on the ground and once again lifted their weapons, clicking back their hammers. Amber never wavered. She lifted a brow at him and he chuckled, clearly amused. She clicked back the hammer on her own gun. “Cooperate with me and no one gets hurt. Otherwise, be prepared to die horribly. I’m game either way.” She shrugged nonchalantly, though George knew she was anything but. The man laughed at her and instantly she aimed past him, firing her gun and hitting the truck behind him. She wanted to scare him, to intimidate him. He jumped, as did the other men and they lifted their guns higher. And for some reason, George knew then that they were not going to shoot her. They never intended to.
The man glanced behind him at the damage she caused before turning amusedly back to her. He quirked an eyebrow at her. “We can help you get your people back if you help us first.”
“Shut up.” She ordered and the man bravely stepped towards her, hands still lifted in the air. “You and your people do nothing but lie.”
“We want to help you get your people back.” He told her, stepping forwards until the barrel of the gun was pressed flush against his chest. He smiled down at her but there was concern in the depths of his eyes. Amber appeared as if she was in a war with herself and George felt a rock settle in the pit of his stomach. Her face twisted and she tilted her head to the side.
Amber lifted her hand, three fingers held high into the air, clearly ignoring his statement. “Cooperate or you will all die. You have until the final finger lowers to drop your weapons and come quietly.” She told him and he only grinned bigger at her.
“Before I die, I would like to ask you a question.” He told her and quickly she lowered her middle finger. She stood her ground, but her tension was palpable. He lifted his hands slightly, his eyes wide and he swallowed thickly. “Just one question.” He begged of her and she lowered her ring finger. One finger still lifted in the air, she narrowed her eyes at him.
“What?” she demanded and the relief that washed over the man was so evident that even Amber shifted on her feet a little at his reaction. George kept his aim on a man to the right of the leader, his hands gripping the gun so hard that they ached, his knuckles white from the pressure. The man leaned forward a little on his feet, his chest pressing harder against the gun, but his focus was on Amber.
“Is your heart still lonely?”
Brian stirred finally, and as he opened his eyes in the fading morning light Shelly couldn’t help but feel grateful. He was alive, he was breathing. It had been yet another day, another night in the room and briefly, her mind had wondered to how the others were fairing…had they been captured yet? Where were they? Would they survive? She soon found these thoughts too depressing and turned her focus back to the current situation, the people occupying the small room that they were in. Brian. Her sweet, loving Brian was struggling to ease himself up into a sitting position. His eyes were squinting, obviously confused and aching. He attempted to shrug his shoulders but to no avail in alleviating the pain that remained there. She remained quiet, just as everyone else did watching as he stabled himself against the wall, grunting with the effort to straighten his stance. A few minutes later he was breathing heavily, panting as he leaned his head against the wall behind him. Shelly could almost see the thin sheen of sweat that coated his forehead as he closed his eyes against whatever pain was ailing him. She had to admit that it hurt to sit there, tense and unmoving, arms and feet bound. Although, throughout the night that Ryder fellow had come in and out, offering them water and food, and even chances to use the restroom. Still, none of this did much to rid their bodies of the agonizing pain of their cramped muscles.
She licked her dry lips, her heart pounding as she nervously spoke. “Brian?” she called hoarsely and he jerked his head upright, searching in the dimming light for her. She couldn’t hide the smile that fell upon her face, or the sheen of tears that came with his rapt attention. She felt Miles shift beside her and she knew that he had seen Brian move as well, and was just as worried as she was.
“Are you alright brother?” he asked calmly and sincerely, his words tugging at Shelly’s heartstrings. She withheld a sigh, realizing that these were the first words that Miles had spoken since the evening before; since he asked the newcomers what t
hey had known of Vincent Van Gogh. Of course, the two young women had thought he was out of his mind, and rightly they should have, but Shelly understood. She remembered the passion with which Amber would discuss this painter, or his artwork; it was the same passion she held that lit up her eyes and excited her whenever it came to absolutely anything she loved, adored, and/or admired and he needed that comfort. And so, while the two newcomers had slept, and Brian as well, Shelly had indulged him with the many things that Amber had told him about the madness and brilliance of the man. This only lasted a while, her words eventually trailing off as he grew unnervingly silent and he remained that way for the duration of the night and morning. Awake, alert, but unresponsive until now.
Brian moved a little, shifting his gaze from Miles to Shelly and back again before growling under his breath. “I’m fine aside from being in this hell-hole. I was hoping I was dreaming.”
Shelly and Miles both released a heavy breath of relief before slightly smiling at his quip. “Sorry Bri, but this is all very real.” Miles told him and Shelly shifted in her seat glancing at the heavy chains that held fast against Brian’s wrists and feet. The heavy iron had to have been rubbing his skin raw. Suddenly his eyes bulged and he jerked restlessly to Miles.
“You’re back!” he exclaimed, and Shelly realized that it had been almost an entire day since he had been thrown into the throes of darkness with his unconsciousness. She wasn’t even sure what he had heard last on the CB radio transmission. “What happened? Last I heard…” he trailed off, his eyes saddening. The three of them paid no mind to the two strange women that had joined them the evening before. No, their minds were somewhere else. Brian swallowed. “Kyle…Is he really?...” he couldn’t bring himself to finish his question. He looked to Miles for an answer; Miles, who stared hard at Brian, tension weighing heavily on his shoulders. Shelly couldn’t speak, wouldn’t. She wasn’t going to cry either; both she and Miles had done enough of that throughout the night, silent in their own torment.
“Kyle, Brittany, and Elva-Jo didn’t make it. Damien…” Miles began but he didn’t have to finish. Brian turned to stare at the wall to his left, his jaw clenching and his eyes watering. Miles cleared his throat. Shelly knew they needed to go for another tactic. They couldn’t dwell on their losses. Miles seem to catch on to this as well as he chose his next words wisely. “What do you remember?”
Brian shifted his eyes to Miles, his good eye staring a hole in their friend. “Start from the beginning. Give me the run-down.” He demanded and Shelly sighed, sharing a look with Miles that asked her who should speak first. She nodded at him quickly, knowing that it was his place to answer these questions. He had been in the room, he had spoken to Amber. He needed to be the one to Brian all of this.
He licked his dry lips. “Alright. Here is what we know;” he began shifting on his seat. Shelly straightened as well. “Damien, son of their ‘boss’” he mocked, “betrayed us. He fed them information about every one of us. After they captured us, Lance and his group went to get the others. Amber found Rick; that was why she tried to radio us. She knew it was an ambush. Lance tried to get them and lost. They all died, except Damien.” He paused, allowing Brian’s groggy mind to catch up to what he was explaining.
“Where is Damien now? Do we know?” he asked, his grey eyes darting from Shelly to Miles. She wanted nothing more than to comfort him then during this crisis. She regretted, selfishly, for a brief moment, that she and Brian had not run away whenever they had the chance.
She cleared her throat as Miles spoke once again. “They took Damien with them. Amber said…” he paused, deep in thought before continuing. “She said that he would be ‘paying for his sins’.”
Brian shifted on his bottom. “So, Amber is going to make Damien, son of the man that wants to use us for twisted experiments, pay for his sins?” he asked bitterly and Miles nodded. Shelly felt a tremor quake her down to her very core. What did that mean? Did that mean that she was going to torture the man? Kill him? Both? Miles had been right before; she was going to hurt him and use whatever information she got from him. Brian began chuckling, angered at realizing Damien’s significance. “Hell yes! That’s my girl!” he exclaimed, throwing his head back in joy at the thought of Amber making the man suffer. “They are going to be alright. They are going to survive.” He felt relieved, then, satisfied with the answers that had been given him. Suddenly, it hit him, the belated epiphany. Both Shelly and Miles remained quiet as they waited for it, knowing that it was coming. His eyes widened and he looked across the room at the pair of friends heatedly. “Please tell me she isn’t going to try to find us.”
“Ryder let me talk to her. She wanted to know…” Miles began but Brian interrupted him angrily, hissing through his teeth.
“What did you tell her?” he demanded of the man to Shelly’s right and Shelly trembled at Brian’s voice. She glanced at the door, hoping that it didn’t draw any attention to the less favorable characters out there.
“I told her nothing. I begged her not to find us, but Brian…you know her…she isn’t going to listen.” He swallowed, registering the shock on Brian’s face. “She isn’t going to give up. She is going to get whatever information she can from Damien. Why do you think she kept him?” It grew dead quiet at this and Shelly felt the trepidation settle once again over her.
“No. She can’t.” Brian stammered, lowering his head as if defeated. Shelly witnessed this and felt her heart break. Damn these men that held them captive! Damn them! Her hands pulled against the binds that held her and she ground her teeth together. She wanted to touch him, just one simple touch to remind him that she was still there, that he wasn’t alone. “What else do we know?” he suddenly asked, lifting his head. His eyes flashed at them and Shelly immediately knew what was going through his mind. He wanted a plan, he wanted to escape, to stop any of the others from finding them, from being captured…from dying.
Miles cleared his dry throat, his voice thick and hoarse. “As far as the others are concerned, that is about it. They didn’t give any hints to where they might be, what their plans are, or anything of the sort.” Miles glanced at the closed door for a moment before turning his focus back to Brian.
“What about this Ryder guy? You said he let you talk to Amber.” Brian stated, his eyes reflecting his obvious concern and curiosity.
“He did. He was the one who told her who their man in charge was. He even…” Miles paused, glancing at Shelly and she wondered what he was going to say that he possibly hadn’t told her. “He gave us food and water. He…he told the others that he still had not heard anything from either Lance or Amber. He defended them…lied to his own people.”
Brian quirked a brow up at this. “So…is he an ally? Will he help us get out of here?”
Shelly shrugged as best as she could against her binds. “Maybe…it is possible.” She stated. Things were silent as they took this all in, as Brian contemplated the information that was given to him.
“I believe he could be. And if he could help with just one tiny detail, I think I may have a plan.” Miles said at long last, interrupting their quiet reverie. A spark lit in Shelly’s heart and she knew there was a light in her eyes. Was it possible? Could he really have a plan to get them all out of there? Her stomach tightened in response, twisting in nervous knots. She felt a slight kick in her abdomen, the feeling almost like that of a fluttering. It was a bitter reminder that she was with child and the man across from her still had no idea. God…she hated herself then, more so than she ever had before. Still, if they could escape and get out of there…things would be alright. She had to force it from her mind yet again for the third time that morning before she had a panic attack.
“Do you really have someone coming for you? Someone waiting for you out there?” a small voice suddenly cut through the stillness and all three people jerked their heads in the direction of the two newcomers. Brian’s eyes were wide and nervous, clearly off guard at having these two tied and bound in
the room with them.
“Who are you?” he spat out suddenly and Shelly leaned forward, jerking with the force of moving, trying to console him. Shelly watched as the younger woman watched the trio, nervously biting her lip. Her sister watched with interest, not making any sound.
The teenager winced at Brian’s harsh tone. “I’m Chloe and this is Lacy, my sister. They captured us from the side of the road yesterday…I think it was yesterday…” she paused for a moment remembering the day before. Shelly glanced at Miles, who only leaned back easily against the wall, not paying the two any attention. Chloe sighed. “Anyways, here we are. We…we don’t have anyone out there coming for us…that…that’s why I asked.” Her words were uncertain and Shelly didn’t miss the immense melancholy look that passed over Lacy as she studied her sister. Brian looked at them for a long moment, and she could see the compassion grip him at her words; even Miles couldn’t hide his reaction to this news.
“So, you’re prisoners just like us, huh?” Brian asked finally he was rewarded with a gentle nod from the teenager while the older sister looked away, the dim sheen of tears evident on her eyes in the little light they had.