Endgame (Book 2): Alekhine's Gun

by W. A. R.

  “What have you done!?” Justin exclaimed, angry and frightened.

  Amber cocked her head to the side. “Give me my brother or you’re next.” She spat out, her voice quaking with unadulterated emotion.

  Justin shook his head, leveling his gun at her. “Not on your life, bitch. You are coming with us.”

  “Have it your way.” She said bitterly, squeezing the trigger once again.

  Brian winced as three gunshots were heard simultaneously. It happened so fast and he saw two things at once. He saw Justin fall to the ground, clutching his forearm and crying out in pain. She was so close, Brian thought, how could she have missed; but he saw it. He saw a bullet hit her just as she shot Justin. The bullet caught her and she jerked back to the right, gun flying from her hand and her body toppled over the edge of the barrier to the water below; enduring a fall that would kill her. Brian stared in horror.

  “NOOOO!!!” he screamed roughly, his throat crying out in agony. He struggled as best as he could to get up and go towards the railing but he only fell feebly to his chest, tears dripping onto the asphalt below him. Men were surrounding Justin then, helping him stand and Michael lowered his gun before replacing it in his holster. That was it. Brian was alone. His fiancé…gone…niece, nephew, mother, father…all gone and he had just witness his sister’s death. With this agony washing over him, he allowed his body to accept the familiar darkness awaiting him.

  Everyone watched in horror as the men made their way up the bridge to where Amber stood. Miles stood, his heart beating so loud in his chest that he was certain that the others could hear it. It beat out an unsteady rhythm and it hurt so bad. This was her plan; to use Damien as leverage. That much was obvious. And yet still there was absolutely nothing that he could do about it. He watched in fear, in unadulterated terror and helplessness as the men made their way up to Amber and he noticed Justin with a bandaged face. He had lived. Miles gulped and pressed closer against the glass of the window. The man, that evil man, did not rush at her. Instead, he paused, clearly surprised and when the others lifted their weapons at her, Justin ordered them down. Michael eased through the crowd, his hateful eyes on the woman before him. From there, Amber held a gun to Damien’s head and Amber and the men stood talking. Everything was so silent as they watched the scene before them, as if they believed that if they were quiet enough they would be able to hear what was being said. They couldn’t however, and they were much too far away to read lips, and so they all watched. They were crying, feeling heavy despair and helplessness, maybe even failure. There was nothing that they could do. They were all captive, held together and stationary by heavy chains and aimed weapons. Fear was in the room, hovering around them, embracing them all, slowly killing them all.

  Miles watched as Amber pulled the trigger of her gun, the gunshot resounding and he heard the faint echo of it across the distance. Damien immediately slumped and she grabbed his shirt, jerking him hastily over the side of the bridge. Her gun, her aim, never wavered and neither did the determined and hurt expression on her face. Miles gulped. She had just killed a man by putting a bullet to his head and from what he could tell she never even flinched. She was definitely changed, hardened. That action, that rash action hurt him and terrified him. Did she just realize what she did? She no longer had a shield nor any leverage. She could very well be dead within a second. And yet, Miles thought, she wasn’t. They wanted to save her…to keep her from dying. But why? He’d have thought for sure that after seeing what she had done that they would have taken her life. He released the breath he had been holding once he realized that they hadn’t shot her. She was still, for the moment being, safe. Tears filled his eyes and he found it difficult to breathe. Everything inside of him hurt and he was desperate.

  In that split second from when she shot Damien and aimed her gun at Justin, he remembered everything vividly, the emotions of those times warring with those that he felt right then as he watched her stare down the man that had taken so much from her. He remembered the little girl with the blonde ponytail and the animal crackers, and he remembered the teenager that had, after everything, given him a chance to be in her life. He recalled the continued friendliness she offered him, the small talks and conversations when they ran into one another. He brought forth to mind how she offered him comfort when he thought he had lost his son and how he had fallen into her with such immense trust. He couldn’t forget how she tasted, how her hair felt between his fingers and how she moved with him, how her velvet lips felt when pressed against his. Her smile, her laugh, those bright blue eyes of hers: they were seared into his memory. He remembered all of this as he stood there, watching with helplessness and lack of control as the inevitable happened.

  It happened so fast that if one had blinked they would have missed it. Gunshots were heard within seconds of Damien’s death and Miles watched as his own son pulled up his gun and shot at Amber. His son, someone he would have taken a bullet for without second thought was also now the one pulling the trigger. He watched as she tumbled over the edge, her bright red shirt disappearing over the edge with her. She didn’t scream; of course she wouldn’t. She was much to strong and resilient for that. Too hard-headed. Miles couldn’t explain the feeling that flooded his chest as he watched this, eyes widening. He felt as if he were bleeding, dying, and the shaky breath that had once filled his lungs was no longer there. No, he couldn’t breathe. He felt as if he were drowning; water filling his lungs and entering his bloodstream, crushing his lungs, crushing his heart. He felt as cold as death and instantly he greeted the thought. Who would he be without her?

  “What the fuck!?” Buddy exclaimed, his voice trembling. He pressed closer to the window as Miles took a step back.

  “Mom!” Cassie shrieked as she watched this. The young girl then crumbled to the floor, sobs wracking her body. Shelly and Bobby-Jean soon followed suit, crying tears of sorrow and of grief. He stared out of the window, staring at the back of his son’s head as he lowered the gun and turned to ensure that Justin was alright

  He had killed her.

  It was his biggest fear, that his son would kill the woman he held dear to him and yet there it was. It had happened right before his eyes. Michael, his only child, his flesh and blood, had taken away his angel. She was gone. She was dead and he would never see her again. Something snapped inside of him then and he stumbled away from the window, tears spilling down his face. He shook his head frantically. The fall alone would kill her if the gunshot wound didn’t.

  “Move!” he screamed at everyone who stood around, unable to make sense out of what had just happened. Everyone cleared out of his way as he looked around for something, any way to break the window. His hands were behind his back, however, and the window too high for him to reach. He turned his wild, tear-filled eyes to the door on the opposite end of the room.

  “Miles…” George began, tears in his eyes but Miles didn’t hear him.

  “Move!” he shouted yet again at everyone, who once again moved out of his way. Once the path was clear, he ran as fast as he could towards the door, ramming it with his shoulder as hard as he could. The impact jarred him and the door thundered and shook under the pressure. The chains rattled against the silent air. The sound was ominous and it almost made him sick; the metal tore at his skin as he struggled against their bind on his wrists. Ignoring the pain, he stepped back and rammed the door once again as hard as he could. “LET ME OUT OF HERE!!!” he bellowed to anyone, someone; he didn’t care who it was, just someone that would take him to her, let him go find her. He needed to find her, to save her. “LET ME OUT!!!” he was screaming now, his voice thundering as he ran into the door again, pain shooting up his shoulder and down his spine. “PLEASE!!!” He stepped back and rammed the door once again before finally giving up. He realized that he would not be able to get to her. She was lost. He was lost. “Please let me go to her…” he cried then, his words weak and without conviction because he was suddenly nothing and no one. It was too late. There
was nothing he could do. He lowered his head and closed his eyes tightly shut, slumping weakly against the door. He brought his knees to his chest, his eyes closed against the pain. Only then did he break down, unable to breathe, and tears overflowing. He didn’t want to believe that she was dead but he had witnessed it, had seen it with his own eyes. His other half, his saving grace…she was gone. He wished to go and be with her. He was weak, he told himself. He couldn’t handle anymore. He was in hell.

  He had told her that he wouldn’t let go, that he would continue holding on to her. He had promised her that he wouldn’t fail her, that he wouldn’t let her fall into the despair and the trap that these people, these enemies set before them. He had promised her and he had failed every part of it. Everything about her played like a sick video in his mind; every little detail of their history, every single thing that he had adored about her ran over and over in his mind and he couldn’t stop it. He had lost her, had let his son do it, and he was completely lost and alone. How could Michael have done that? Miles had to wonder. He had never been that way. He had trusted him, hell, Michael was his son. It wasn’t fair, he whimpered to himself as he leaned against the wall and cried. He couldn’t stop the tumult of emotion that washed over him, drowning him. He simply couldn’t handle it.

  “She’s…she’s gone…” Buddy gulped as he stood, staring out of the window with tears in his eyes.

  Miles didn’t stand to bear witness to the corpse that floated face down in the river, her bright red shirt shining like a beacon. Neither Buddy nor George mentioned it…instead they only watched for several minutes as the lifeless body of their friend floated downriver and disappeared from sight.

  Miles knew then that they were meant to be there; that it had all been a part of whatever plan was in motion and that Amber had played a part in it. They were meant to watch Amber die; she meant for them to watch her die.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Pause.

  Rewind.

  Back it up to eleven days before. Rewind all of this to the day they left the house, weapons in tow, to meet the men that had given them warning, the men that had said they had wanted to help. Rewind all the way back to where the leader held his hands in the air, a devious smirk on his face and where a shaking Amber stood staring at him, gun pressed threateningly against his chest, her hand in the air and counting down.

  Stop.

  Stop right there and press play.

  “Is your heart still lonely?”

  There. Right there is when it hit her. She had stood there, staring at him and trying to determine where she had seen him, trying to determine who he was. It was like a small part of her knew the answer but refused to believe it…after all…he was dead…right? Even so, why would he be working for and with the people that took her family away…for the people that planned to torture them all, including his own father? Still, despite all this confusion, all five fingers splayed out immediately, stopping any fire that was about to take place. His name reverberated through her mind. Michael. It was Michael. She fought the urge to throw her arms around him, briefly thinking of how exceedingly happy Miles would be to find that his son was very much alive. She didn’t do any of this, however; instead, she kept the gun on his chest and her hand still in the air. Subconsciously, she knew what she was doing, even as her brain played catch-up. She was in shock and overwhelmed with emotions. Once the realization of who he was glazed over her eyes she saw him smile a knowing smile that reminded her all too much of his father and her heart ached just a little more, if that were at all possible. She was waiting for what he would say next. Slowly, he leaned forward to her, getting close, his cheek brushing hers cautiously. The gun still dug into his chest. She knew who he was, and had known before the outbreak. She used to talk to him, used to see him at the store he worked at. He knew her; she knew him.

  “Pretend you know nothing and send your people away. No one will be hurt or followed, I promise.” And though she was facing the enemy, all of them with guns, she didn’t think twice about his promise. As he leaned back hands still in the air, he locked eyes with her and all she saw was Miles asking her to trust him and suddenly she was trembling, on the verge of tears. And so, without a second thought, she had trusted him and with an offered small smile, she knew that he knew it.

  “Everybody out!” she yelled, never taking her eyes off the astonishing discovery before her. She couldn’t even begin to fathom what was happening, and yet as the sounds of feet crunching leaves came from all around her and the jostle of guns met her ears, she felt the overwhelming urge to protect him just as she did Cassie and Elliot. Her heart began pounding in her ears and everything seemed to fade in and out of focus for those brief few minutes as her people advanced towards her. Michael glanced over her shoulder and then back at her, seemingly reading her mind.

  “Five people?” he asked her lowly, trying desperately not to be heard. She gave him the briefest of nods, assuring him that those were the only people that she had placed in the woods around them, that those were the only people that she had with her. He nodded back his understanding then as Buddy spoke.

  “Amber? What’s going on?” he asked and she lowered her hand, letting her arm hang loosely at her side. She didn’t turn to look at him, and she didn’t need to in order to know that they had their guns lifted and aimed at the men before her. Oh, her family, her people. She loved them so much. She winced at her next words.

  Like ripping off a Band-Aid.

  “I need you to leave. All of you, go back to the truck.” She had told them. Her first betrayal. Her first step in becoming the conspirator that she was to become. She could sense their shock and disbelief.

  “Are you out of your fucking mind?” Buddy snapped and Cassie easily interjected.

  “We aren’t leaving you here alone with them.”

  “Amber, what are you talking about?” George had asked and that was the moment she had decided that he would be the one to tell this to, that regardless of whatever happened, whatever they discussed, George should know. He wasn’t angry, only confused and searching for her reasoning.

  “She will be fine. No one will be hurt.” Michael told them all. “But you will be if you stay here.” It was an idle threat, Amber knew it, but they didn’t. Her people grew heated and Michael sighed. “We want to help but she is the only one that we will talk to.”

  “Listen to him, please. I will be fine.” Amber prodded. “Fifteen minutes and I will be at the truck. Trust me.” Her last words were more of a plea and she could sense their hesitation. They didn’t want to leave, and she knew they wouldn’t unless they were forced to. She winced inwardly and realized that she would need to pull out the big guns. She needed them to leave; she needed to know what Michael had to say. “Do you not trust me?”

  “It’s them we don’t trust.” Rick spat out and Amber sighed then, lowering her own gun and returning it to her waistband. She had turned slowly, watching as Michael lowered his hands and his people lowered their weapons. She turned and watched as her own people kept their guns up, their eyes wide as Amber lowered her guard.

  “Trust me. I need you to go. Now.” She said and she watched as defeat washed over their faces. Slowly, one by one they lowered their weapons. They realized that they weren’t going to fight. They could, but at what costs? And if they stayed, what would be the outcome? Their leader, Amber, had asked them to leave, had told them to leave, and that was the only option they had left other than bloodshed. She watched as George studied the man at her back, the leader, Michael until George finally nodded and shifted his gun onto his shoulder.

  “Fifteen minutes.” He stated and tossing one more heated glare over his shoulder he sauntered back to the wood line. It was a domino effect then, the others taking action and following one man they all trusted. One by one the others followed, Cassie and Buddy last to go, refusing to take their eyes from Amber. Amber merely nodded at them in assurance, begging them mentally to go, to leave.

  “To you
r truck. We will know if you are in the woods watching.” Michael shouted as two of his men stepped forward, their eyes on Amber’s people. Buddy hesitated in his steps for a moment before scowling and stomping forward, urging a worried looking Cassie into the trees. Amber’s breathing had become ragged and her heart racing as she watched his men stop at the wood line, listening and looking for her people as they disappeared to the truck. Within minutes they turned back to Amber and Michael and slightly nodded. Amber quickly turned around as Michael latched onto her, embracing her tightly. Amber threw her arms around his neck and hugged him back just as strongly.

  “You’re alive!” she exclaimed lightly and he twisted to the side, tightening his embrace. It was as they were long lost friends, and she guessed that in a way, they were. She had never been so happy to see someone alive.

  “You’re alive!” he mimicked laughing. Amber pulled back then, her hands resting on his shoulders as he gripped her arms. His eyes were alight and dancing with excitement. “I was so damn worried you guys wouldn’t make it!”

  Amber shook her head, a smile coming on as tears filled her eyes. “Miles thought you were…” She paused at the mention of Miles’s name and shook her head. Michael’s eyes saddened and were overcome with a darkness that she could relate with only too well. “What are you doing here?”