Endgame (Book 2): Alekhine's Gun

by W. A. R.

  “It’s Amber.” He said softly, watching in shock and disgust as she slowly moved to the highest point of the bridge. Fifteen minutes passed in silence as they all watched her drag the limp body up the bridge and around the cars. Her hair was in its usual ponytail, and she wore a bright red shirt and jeans. She seemed so damn far away, and she was. His breath suddenly left him and he felt desperate. She was up there alone with a man that had betrayed them, the man that had killed her son and her father. His chest tightened in response to seeing her and yet…what was she doing? It was as if his body, some very big part of him, reached out to her, searching and he felt something pierce through him to his very core. What kind of deal had she made? “She’s dragging Damien up the bridge.” Commotion from the others echoed incoherently in his ears and he could decipher none of it. He sensed their movements, their approach of the window as they reacted excitedly and afraid at the fact that Amber was there with Damien. Seeing her standing there, witnessing finally her existence once again, so close and yet so far away, he thought he had never seen anything more agonizingly beautiful. Something burned inside of him, searing every nerve-ending and alerting him to the excruciating pain he was experiencing.

  “What in the hell is going on here? This doesn’t seem right…” Buddy stated and Miles realized that he couldn’t agree more. Not only were they all brought together, but they were locked in a room with a window view of the bridge, where Amber just so happened to be. Something wasn’t settling right with Miles; not at all. They were meant to watch her, meant to see something.

  “There’s Brian! He’s alive!” Shelly exclaimed and Miles jerked his eyes from Amber to the base of the bridge where Shelly pointed and sure enough there were at least forty men with at least twenty some-odd prisoners, Brian being one of them and they were quickly making their way to where Amber and Damien stood. These enemies hadn’t seen her yet but it was obvious to how she had lifted Damien against her and turned her head toward the base of the bridge that she had seen them. Miles felt his stomach clench tight as he recognized one more face in the surging crowd of enemies: Michael.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It had been six days since they had run, and though Brian was beaten for their absences, he thought it to be worth it. He thought it was worth it, the abuse that he was given in retaliation of the attempt that they had made to escape. Justin, unfortunately, had survived and after the excruciating pain of having one eye bandaged up where Miles had kicked him and having the glass removed from his ear, he had been allowed to unleash hell on Brian while he was bound and in chains. And so, one eye swollen shut, a few teeth missing, and a possible contusion was what he received before Cory interrupted and stopped him. Brian had wished that Justin would have killed him, wishing that the man would lose his temper and just end Brian’s life before he became some monster or some tool for torture. Still, he smirked and laughed in Justin’s face as he beat him, telling him over and over again that Miles and Shelly had died, because in all honesty he found the man’s eyepatch and bandaged ear amusing. He had partially lost both eyesight and hearing and this pleased Brian. So every time he hit Brian, Brian would laugh and spit at him. He was antagonizing the man, he knew, and yet still, it was worth it.

  Still, he was weak, having very little food and water since they took him back to the house, and he felt himself wilting away into nothingness. Ryder wasn’t there, Cory explained, to stop the onslaught of abuse that Brian continued to receive or to feed him. Cory tried, but after a few run-ins with Justin, that idea was kind of thrown out of the water. Justin hid the food and water; either that or he destroyed it. Cory couldn’t win. Brian slept a lot in recent days, his body trying to accommodate for the losses and the emotional instability that he felt. He had hoped every single day that what Justin said wasn’t true, that he was only telling him that they had died to only taunt him and torment him into a perpetual misery that he couldn’t endure. He would never know for sure if they made it or not, certain that his death was going to be at the hands of these men. However, he did vow that if he ever got free one last time, he would be on a vendetta to end Justin’s life once and for all. He continued each day, and with every breath that every single member of his family was safe and that they had all found one another. Shelly…oh his sweet Shelly. She had to make it…she had to survive. He knew from the very beginning that he was going to sacrifice himself for them, trusting that Miles would keep her safe and find the others. Yet, whenever he witnessed Miles’s desperation, it had still hurt, whether he was prepared for it or not.

  Now, however, they had left the house and were on their way to the compound. He was alright with that, he realized as they drug him along, at least then he would meet the man who was behind all of the pain and loss he had endured. Adrian. He hoped that the man was dignified and every bit as evil as Brian believed him to be. It would only serve in making it that much easier when it came time to kill him. He only wished his family were there to see him too, only if they were he would hope that they were present to take down the monster. Still, maybe Brian would be given the opportunity to spit in the man’s face and tell him what kind of twisted monster he was. He had gotten pretty good at that lately practicing on Justin.

  He had been dragged along by two guards, as he was unable to walk on his own. Yes, he was bound, but he was also beaten and weak. He needed support from others just to stand or else he would fall to his knees. It was demeaning and he hated it. He thought that if he could, if he had the weapons, the equipment, and the mobility to do so, he would end his life. He was nothing anymore. At least if he ended his life he wouldn’t be giving Adrian or Justin the chance to experiment on him, to change him into a monster. Maybe then he wouldn’t come back and hunt down his own family for food. The thought alone made him sick. He would end his life before it ever came to that…if he had the means to do so.

  “Well, well, well…” he heard one of the guards ahead of him call out. Justin. Brian slowly lifted his head in response, in curiosity, of the man’s tone of voice. The enemy was everywhere, he knew, with many more prisoners like him; men, women, and children alike. Some were beaten like him, others simply distraught. It even appeared as if some of the women were taken advantage of, their clothes ripped and barely held together, bruised on their cheeks, arms, legs. The thought only served to anger Brian and make him sick. He drifted in and out of consciousness as they drug him up the bridge. Everything hurt. “What have we here?”

  “Oh shit!” another man exclaimed from somewhere behind him and he felt a pair of hands tighten on his right arm. “Is that Damien?” Damien? If Brian wasn’t awake yet, he was then. He turned his head, his good eye searching for the son of a bitch that corrupted all his people. What was he doing there? How? Amber had destroyed him…hadn’t she? He suddenly felt weaker than he already was and the voices of all the men around him began growing louder and overlapping. This went on for minutes, Brian trying to trudge through the foggy vision and the blurred thoughts. Justin’s eyes had widened in surprise and maybe fear as he and someone talked. Brian couldn’t make out the words.

  “That’s Damien alright…damn…”

  “Did he just say she was infected?”

  “For how long?”

  “Brian?!” he heard a voice call out through the noise and suddenly he was jerked forward, his feet dragging the asphalt behind him. Amber. It was Amber. She was there…but what was she doing? Where was everyone else? He wanted to call out to his sister but he couldn’t. He couldn’t find the strength. He felt relieved that she was safe and he felt tears snake their way down his face. She was alive…. she was here. He was jostled around other men as he was pulled to the front of the large group, some taking out Biters, others watching the scene before them. Brian kept searching until finally he found her. She stood, her legs pressed back against the concrete barrier on the bridge. She wore a bright red tank top; filth covered, torn and caked with what appeared to be blood, and her usual ponytail. She was scared, it was evid
ent, and had been crying, but there was also no mistaking her resolve. His mind screamed to him that she had been who Justin was talking to. He appeared fascinated and scared all at once and Brian wondered what he had missed.

  “Drop him there.” He heard Justin say and the two men released him. He fell to his knees facing Amber as she held a very damaged Damien against her, gun to his head. What was she planning to do? She looked on at Brian, her eyes expressing her worry and the depth of love that she held for her brother. His sister had come to try to save him.

  “Brian?” she gasped, pain evident in her voice. He turned his good eye up to her. “Oh Brian…are you alright?”

  “Amber…” he trailed off, his tongue like sandpaper against the roof of his mouth. He couldn’t speak any more than that, any more than her name. He tried to nod but his head swam and he shifted dizzily on his knees. She turned back to Justin, her eyes flashing and filled with pain.

  “What have you done to him?” she spat out and Justin merely shrugged, clasping his hands behind his back. Brian tried to loosen the binds that held him. She was going to die. She was outnumbered. They were going to take her hostage like him. He couldn’t let that happen.

  “Nothing near what they have done to me.” Justin replied thickly and Amber scoffed, her eyes scrutinizing every facet of his face.

  “I think it has to be an improvement. Anyone with a heart as ugly as yours has to be just as physically disdainful.” She replied and Justin scowled, shifting on his feet. That was his sister, always sticking up for others and always still so compassionate that she would do so without second thought, Brian praised mentally, and yet still he could see the hardness that settled itself within her eyes. She was different; she was hurt. “Where are the others?” Things were silent for a moment as Justin studied the woman before him. He felt as if he couldn’t breathe then; Miles and Shelly hadn’t found Amber. She had no idea where they were or what had happened. He grew hot and fevered, his thoughts blurring together as so many emotions cascaded over him. A man to his left moved a little and Brian looked up at him, sure that he was advancing towards his sister. The impact was immediate, the realization of who he was. There was no doubt who this man was; he was identical to his father whenever his father was younger. It was Michael.

  Miles had said that his son was part of the enemy, that he had personally been the one to knock Miles unconscious, but Brian hadn’t fully believed him; couldn’t accept the fact that not only was his son actually alive but he was also part of this. And now, here he stood beside Brian, his eyes filled with hate for the woman before him, gun in hand. Was Damien her bargaining chip or were they simply toying with her? He didn’t know; all he really knew for certain was that she needed to get out of there immediately. She glanced at the man, at Michael, and he saw her eyes waver at him. She appeared…terrified of the young man to his side.

  “Dead.” He deadpanned and Amber flinched only slightly, the gun she had pressed against Damien’s head wavering just the slightest. Still, through Brian’s blurry vision he could make out tears filling her eyes at his words. “They tried to escape and they died doing so…”

  “You’re lying!” she spat out bitterly, pain lacing every word.

  “I wish I were. I would have loved for them come with us to the compound.” Justin replied and she jerked the gun to him, her hands trembling. Brian tried to speak, tried to stop her but nothing came out. His tongue was heavy and sluggish, unwilling to cooperate with him.

  “They are not dead and my people aren’t going with you.” She demanded harshly, clearly in denial; refusing to accept his declaration. Justin merely laughed at her threat before shifting on his feet and twisting his hands in a nervous habit behind his back where she couldn’t see them. Was…was Justin afraid of her?

  “Surely you don’t think you will make it out of here alive…much less with your people…or shall I say ‘person’.” He replied, avoiding the subject of the others being dead. Amber brought the gun back to rest on Damien’s head. Damien didn’t fight her, but he did appear frightened. Blood coated his clothing, and his broken bones were obvious. His swollen and flaming red stubs where fingers once were screamed out painfully at Brian, as did the burns on his face, the blood and burned place on the side of his head where his ear had been.

  “I have Damien. I will make a trade. I will trade Damien for my three people.”

  Justin frowned then, making certain she saw the resolve in his eyes. “I already told you that Brian is the only one left alive. I killed them both myself for the personal hell that they put me through.” And she studied him for a long moment before the realization settled on her. It was true, and he felt everything within him shake down to his very core. No, it couldn’t be. But she believed it. Her bottom lip quivered as she tried so desperately to keep it together. “Which reminds me, where are the rest of your people? Waiting to ambush us? I must say, they are brave to take on all of us and our automatic weapons.”

  Amber swallowed then, her eyes darting between Michael and Justin. “You…you son of a bitch…” she growled hotly at Michael. “You and your people killed them all.” She whimpered slightly. She was losing it, losing control. Brian could tell she was going downhill fast. “Didn’t you brag about doing it? Lance would have. I should know. I got to know him a little before I took his life.” Brian felt everything inside of him grow cold. No…no…she was lying. She had to be. He looked at her face, watching as it twisted and crumpled into hate and anger, fire and rage and ice and pain. She…she wasn’t lying. Tears left his eyes and coated his cheeks and he hung his head low. Amber and Brian, brother and sister, were the last ones alive. Their entire family was gone, in ruins, turned into monsters or killed on the spot.

  “You know nothing. You killed an innocent man!” Michael then shouted and she visibly dug her feet into the concrete, tears now spilling down her face. Justin watched the interaction with interest. Brian wanted nothing more than to either kill them all or throw himself from the bridge, falling to his death in the water from the roughly 150-foot drop.

  “He took away my family and killed good people! He was far from innocent!” she all but screamed and Michael bowed up to her, threatening to close the distance between the two of them. Brian watched as his hold on the gun tightened.

  “It is for the greater good!” Michael yelled back at her. “And had the rest of your family cooperated, we wouldn’t have been forced to kill them either!”

  “You killed them all? When was this?” Justin asked then, amused at this turn of events. Michael never tore his eyes from Amber.

  “We were looking for food at a store…starving and they just…” she choked on a sob. “They just came out of nowhere…they killed them all…” she sniffled and sobbed, coughing and biting her bottom lip. Her face was twisted with so much pain that he just knew she was going to break down. “Your people have taken away my children…my parents…my friends…”

  “And your people have taken away our friends too!” Michael replied hotly.

  “We did it to protect ourselves!”

  “And we did it to provide a better future for those better suited for it.” Michael growled in response. Amber’s hands were shaking and the gun quaked in her hand. Her knees were bent a little, and Brian knew she was weakening. “Now why don’t you come with us?”

  Justin grinned maliciously. “Considering the circumstances, Adrian would be very…demanding of your arrival.”

  She ignored his statement. “You and Lance will burn in hell for what you’ve done.” She spat, her voice low and threatening.

  Justin studied Damien then; Damien, who was so scared that Brian could have sworn he could hear his heart beat over his own racing one. “Damien? Where were you when all of this happened?”

  Amber looked harshly at him. “I cut out his fucking tongue.” A wicked smile formed on her lips; it was a look Brian never thought possible of her. “He can’t talk. But I can tell you were he was.” She rammed the gun harder again
st his head and the man whimpered. “He was locked up in a house, alone; being feasted on by whatever creature could get to him until I returned with different forms of torture. Isn’t that right Damien?” He closed his eyes tightly and whimpered even more so as she pulled harder at his hair, jerking his head back. He was so close that he and Amber were nearly cheek to cheek.

  Justin narrowed his eyes at her, clearly angry at this treatment of Damien. “Adrian won’t take too kindly to you torturing his only son.”

  Amber’s eyebrows lifted in response to this and Justin winced, realizing he had just made a mistake. She laughed hotly. “He is Adrian’s son. Oh, this is delicious. You mean to tell me that while you were killing everyone IMPORTANT TO ME…” she yelled those last words angrily, causing Justin to flinch and she dug the barrel of the gun deeper into Damien’s hair and flesh. “…that I had his son as my prisoner? This entire time? I should just kill him now and end this.”

  “Amber…we both know you aren’t going to kill him.” Michael coaxed her, his eyes malicious. The false sincerity was driving Brian nuts. “Just hand him over, as well as yourself, and we can let this whole thing go. You can stay with Brian.”

  Amber looked between the two men, no reluctance in her features. “No? You think I won’t? You have all taken away everything that matters to me. I’m dying anyways. What do I have left to lose?” she asked appearing suddenly so defeated that it hurt Brian to witness it. He wanted to die, to leave this world. She was going to die, and he would be left completely and utterly alone in the cruel twist of fate that was his life. He was torn into shreds as he sat on his knees and watched his sister, his kind and compassionate sister, pull the trigger on the gun. Damien’s head jerked to the side, splattering blood and brain matter on her ear, her shoulder, and she gripped his shirt, slinging him to the left. His dead and limp body twisted and fell from the bridge. Brian watched this wide eyed. She had never even flinched when she did this; no, her eyes remained on Justin. There was no remorse, no consideration, and no disgust. She wore his blood and brain matter like a medal. She lifted her pistol and aimed it at Justin then, who quickly, along with Michael, lifted his own gun and aimed it at her.