Endgame (Book 2): Alekhine's Gun

by W. A. R.

  “Yeah?” he asked, turning to face her fully. She looked at him, and really looked at him. He felt everything within him that was numb or forced away that morning come back to life and he went to take a step toward her. Almost immediately she took a step back. Was she going to talk to him? He wasn’t sure. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking in that moment, his own thoughts and emotions running rampant and overwhelming his mind.

  “Thank you…” she began and then she ran her hand up her arm nervously. “For taking care of me last night…for you know, bringing me back here and…” she cleared her throat as he waited patiently for her to finish. He felt his heart race in anticipation, nervousness, and he felt as he had whenever he was a child, or even months ago. She always did that to him. She licked her lips, trying to find the right words to say. She brought her eyes up to meet his and he was slapped with the uncertainty and pain in their depths. Tears were brimming, threatening to fall from their lashes and he realized how weighted down she really was. A rock settled in the pit of his stomach. “…and…thank you…for holding me…being there for me…”

  He grimaced. “Amber…” he tried interjecting, tried telling her that she didn’t need to thank him for something he wanted to do, for being where he wanted to be. Still, she continued, as if he hadn’t opened his mouth, her words taking precedence over her name and any other words that may have tumbled out of his mouth.

  “…and…for saving me…from my nightmare…it umm…it meant a lot to not feel so alone…”

  Her words twisted his heart and he shifted on his feet, dropping his hands to his sides, unsure of what to say. He stepped closer to her, tossing a furtive glance at the open door. He was trying desperately to gather his wits about him but he was bare before her, as he always was. He stopped a foot away from her, his hands in his pockets to keep from fidgeting. Standing so close to her, he could see the tremble of her bottom lip, the apprehension in her eyes. He cleared his throat. “Same nightmares as before?”

  The tears finally fell and she pulled her lip between her teeth, clutching the hold on herself even tighter. She distanced herself from him once again and he felt his chest tighten. “Worse.” Was her only reply and something inside of him caved as he watched the tears fall down her face. He let his mind wonder about what demons came after her, tore her apart while she tried to sleep.

  “Look, about last night…” he began but she quickly shook her head. She closed her eyes tightly against whatever pain was haunting her and took a deep breath before quickly bringing her hands up to wipe away the tears. Ashamed, stubborn, that was what she was; he could see that much.

  “I’m sorry…we should go…I just wanted to thank you after…” she stopped speaking, trailing off as Miles brought his hand up to gently grip her wrist. His touch was gentle and she stared at his hand as he lowered her arm to her side. She didn’t resist him; then again, had she ever? His heart was pounding and aching all at once, wanting nothing more than to take away her pain.

  “Stop.” He told her softly, stepping closer to her. He slowly removed his hand from her wrist, allowing her arm to hang at the side, and brought his hand to her cheek. She flinched and backed away from him even further. He went cold, desperate. “Amber…it’s okay.” He told her, his voice softer than he intended, and she inhaled sharply.

  “Don’t.” she bit out through clenched teeth. He swallowed thickly, dropping his hand and staring hard at her. After everything he had said the night before, his hurtful words and his doubt in her ability, he needed to say this right. He couldn’t screw up again. Looking into her eyes, he realized why she was forcing a distance he wanted to close. She was scared of herself, scared of hurting him. Did she really think he would be disgusted by her? That meeting this new woman, as a part of her now, would change his mind about anything where it concerned her? He cleared his throat cautiously. She didn’t trust herself; that much was obvious. He needed to be patient.

  “There was nowhere else I would have rather been…don’t thank me for that…ever. And…it is okay to let go…you have to let it go sometime…just know that when you do…I will…”

  “Amber! Miles! Y’all coming?” he heard Rusty suddenly call followed by the thundering of footsteps on the steps. Amber quickly jumped from surprise, clearing her throat and casting her eyes everywhere but at the two men in the room with her, as if ashamed. Miles groaned and replaced his hand in his pocket before turning to look at the front door. Rusty stood there, his eyes darting between the two. “Did I interrupt something?” he asked lightly and Amber spared Miles one last glance before advancing towards Rusty. She kept her eyes hidden from him, refusing to let him see the evidence of her tears.

  “No. Just talking. Come on. We all need to get this over with.” She said, her words clipped and resigned. Miles sighed, following her out of the doorway and down the stairs of the porch, eyeing Rusty who ambled up between the two of them.

  …I will be there to catch you when you fall.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The sun was scorching, and though it was fall and the air was cool and tainted with a moisture that was chilling to the bone, the sun was a different story. As Brian sat against the base of a tree, the sun shone down on him brightly, warming his skin and slowly arousing him from his slumber. He took a look around him. He was surrounded by the other prisoners, all of whom were whispering frantically amongst themselves. He glanced around, his good eye still blurred with sleep, and saw that there were very few guards on them. Shaking his head, the heat of the sun that scattered through the branches of the trees dizzied him, and he glanced around once more. His swollen eye cracked open, the swelling having gone down significantly. If he were honest, he was more curious about where Justin was instead of where the others had ventured off to. He couldn’t remember when he had passed out, or even when exhaustion

  had claimed him. He was beaten, starving, thirsty, and his body so very worn and weak that he knew sleep continued calling to him like a siren’s song, urging him away from the pain and the madness that came with waking. He was surprised, however, that he had not had any nightmares that had woken him startlingly from his sleep. Nightmares of Justin and Shelly, of Amber and Miles and Kyle and Cassie. All he kept seeing whenever he closed his eyes and stared at the backs of his eyelids was torture, abuse, rape, and murder and all he heard was the taunting and the screaming, of begging and merciless laughter. When would he ever escape this hell?

  It wasn’t likely, he knew. He still dwelled on his losses, and was spiraling into a depression that he readily welcomed. Every time he closed his eyes and saw what horrors awaited him in his dreams, he hoped he wouldn’t wake up and would instead drift away with a welcomed death. When he faced reality, he prayed for some, any kind, of natural and tragic disaster that would claim his life because as he was bound and watched constantly, he was unable to take his own life. It was what he wanted to do, and what he thought he would do just as soon as he was able. He wanted to cry but couldn’t; the dehydration wracking his body keeping the tears from producing. His mouth was dry and gritty, and everything about his body was screaming and protesting in agony. He continuously questioned what it was he had done to deserve this torment and honestly, he was beginning to question his sanity. He mumbled nonsense to himself every few hours and refused to speak to any of the guards that questioned him. This, however, was a first: being lumped in with the other prisoners. He licked his cracked and bleeding lips but to no avail and then he tried to clear his throat. This helped a little and he swallowed what little saliva he conjured up in his mouth.

  He turned to his left then, looking at the woman beside him. She looked to be in her twenties, but that was hard to tell as the bruising and blood on her face could have been deceptive. Part of her nose was missing, her mouth swollen on one side, and her hair in disarray. There were fading bruises on her neck and cuts and tears along her clothes and littered across what he could tell of her body. Her skin was sallow and her eyes sunken in and he w
as curious as to how long she was held captive and mistreated. He had only been taken a few weeks before and it had been a week of abuse and deprivation. Still, as much as he wanted to die some primal part of him pushed on, persevering, and he hated that. It had been his option, he knew, to turn back and offer Miles and Shelly a chance to escape, and so in the whole of things, he blamed himself, and he blamed Ryder for their deaths. What had been the last thing he and Shelly had said to one another? He and Amber? And even…Amber and Miles? Their blood, all three of them…no, their whole family was on his hands. Their deaths were because he didn’t listen to Amber the day they left the house. The guilt of it all was what haunted him every night and was so much worse than the physical beatings and starvation ever would be. Though they were dead, he often found himself every few minutes mumbling and asking those three significant people in his life what they would do in his position. Their voices, laced with pain and understanding, echoed in his mind and he knew that they would continue to fight for these innocent people. With a heavy sigh, he resolved to talk to this beaten woman, to see what she knew about what was going on.

  “Hey…” his voice cracked and was hoarse. She turned to him warily, her eyes searching his curiously, clearly confused. He didn’t sound like himself in the least and his simple greeting was difficult to decipher, even to his own ears. He cleared his throat yet again and swallowed whatever saliva was available and tried again. “Hey.” That was a little better. He turned and thrust his chin towards the few men and women that were surrounding them. “Where…” he croaked. Dammit. “Where is everyone?”

  The woman lifted a bruised brow at him, and he saw the fear in her eyes. “I…I’m not sure.” Her voice was hoarse as well, thick, and even painful sounding. She turned and glanced at one of the taller men. His face was angry and the malice in his eyes made Brian have a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. “There were a lot of zombies closing in on us and they went to take them out and draw them away.”

  He shook his head and glanced at her with a suspicion in his eyes. “Their leader go with them?”

  She scoffed harshly. “What kind of leader would he be if he didn’t?”

  Brian turned from her, the beginnings of an irritation evident on his wan features. “He’s not much of one as it is.” He snapped. The woman effectively clamped her mouth shut and jerked her gaze to the ground between them. A yell was heard in the distance and he figured that she had been right in her explanation that they had gone to handle the creatures that threatened their life. Well, one of the creatures. Brian was more leery of his own kind by that point than the monsters that hungered for his flesh. A silence engulfed them and Brian let his body sag against the bonds and the tree he was pinned against. His head slung back, he closed his eyes and took in whatever energy and warmth the sun would offer him because if he were honest, the nights with the cool weather moving in was enough to makes his bones ache.

  It had been just another form of maltreatment and abuse that he had endured. Pushing through the cold nights outside under the clear night sky, the wind howling, moisture heavy in the air and in the dirt on which he sat. And yet, for weeks, even in the house they had been held captive in, he was left without warmth, without any form of cover or comfort. He was left to shiver and ache, unable to move and curl into even the fetal position to try to assuage the agony that accompanied the chills. He ground his teeth together until the pressure became painful. He would kill Justin if it was the last thing he did. He would kill the man for Shelly, for Amber, for Miles, and for keeping him from his family, and he would kill him for the torture he had placed upon Brian’s already burdened shoulders.

  “You’re…” the woman beside him began, jarring him from his reverie. He jumped and jerked his attention to her with glazed and red eyes. She appeared taken aback and maybe even a little contrite. He almost felt bad for how weak she appeared. Yes, he was weak and in the same position she was in, and yet she was…different.

  “Yeah?” he prodded her quietly, earning an over the shoulder glance from one of the men watching over them. Brian sighed and looked at the woman, who looked as if she had gotten in trouble. He wondered if she had been abused or beaten growing up, or even in marriage. Her personality in that moment suggested it, or so he thought. He couldn’t necessarily prove it, not that he really wanted to prove something like that, or if he even knew how to. Regardless, he was unsure of how to approach her. Hell, even after what had happened to Amber, when he found her in her house beaten and taken advantage of, he hadn’t needed to be any different. She would have kicked his ass for doing so in the first place. His sister may have been compassionate and kind, but that in no way made her weak-minded.

  “You’re…” she began again before biting her bottom lip. Finally, she brought her green eyes to his. “You’re Brian…right? Brian McDermott?” He hadn’t heard anyone address him by his last name in so long he had almost forgotten that he had one. But he did, and it was one that he had taken from his family, one that he shared with the best friend he called his sister and the name that he had one day hoped to give to Shelly before the world went to hell in a handbasket.

  “You know who I am?” he asked and he saw a little light shine in her eyes at his small affirmation regarding her question. It was almost as if she were excited to be around him.

  “We all know who you are, who your family is.” She stated before turning and once again glancing at the man off to the side. He looked mean still, violent and it seemed as if all reason had left his mind. He realized then that it was no wonder how Justin got away with murdering Cory in front of them all. It was because all of these men and women, well, most of them if not all, were just as twisted and brutal as he was. He was the leader of these fools and they would follow him easily as he tortured and ruined what was left of the world. What made matters worse was that Adrian not only allowed this to happen, he was also creating new creatures that took out those humans his human monsters could not. It was all so very fucked up and Brian was quite frankly a little frightened to see what kind of man Adrian really was.

  “Should I be concerned?” he asked roughly and for the briefest of moments he was. It concerned him that someone, no, everyone knew who he was and much worse, who his family was. It cut him so deep that for a second it took the very breath from his lungs. His family was gone.

  “No…” she trailed off and he laughed roughly, his choking laughter hateful and bitter. He sounded like someone completely different. “You and your family are…”

  “In case you hadn’t heard, my family is gone. I’m all that’s left.” He spat out venomously and she flinched back from the spite in his words.

  “I…I’m sorry…I didn’t mean…” she tried, stammering and stumbling over her words. He narrowed his eyes at her.

  “I don’t need to hear your excuses.” He snapped and again she flinched. His voice was more forceful now than it was before as he seethed through clenched teeth. “How do you know about my family?”

  Her eyes were wide then and her lip trembled. “I didn’t mean to upset you…”

  “Answer me.” He rumbled threateningly and though he should have felt guilty for it, he didn’t. He wanted to hear her answers, how did she know of his family and who they were? What did she know of him and even more so, why was she asking about him? If there was any small piece of information that she held about his family or the position he was in, he wanted to hear it. He needed to hear it. These were wild humans, bound by no morals or laws, that he was dealing with and if this woman knew anything concerning him or his late family, he wanted it…desperately.

  “But…” she began and he could see the tears creeping into her eyes. This only served in making him angrier.

  “Now.” He demanded, adrenaline allowing him to move some. He pulled against his binds and her eyes widened whenever she saw his movements. He thought that maybe, just maybe, his previous assumption was valid, that he was, in fact, beginning to lose his mind. He had never threate
ned a woman before, had never hit one nor wanted to, but this beaten woman holding information about those he lost as well as himself…well…he wanted to snap her neck if she didn’t hurry and give him the answers that he wanted.

  She flinched and fear was evident in her eyes. She moved a little, just as much as she could, away from him. “Can I please explain?” she asked before tossing a nervous glance at the men and women on guard. He clamped his mouth shut and followed her gaze to the few that were looking at them dubiously. He swallowed. Yes, in the heated moment of things he had completely forgotten that there were guards around them, that the enemy would certainly be listening.

  And so, feeling properly chastised and restrained, he sagged back against the tree, breathing heavily through his nose. He was slowly calming down, closing his eyes and avoiding giving the woman any attention until these few decided to turn their attention away from them, satisfied that they weren’t missing anything from Brian’s conversation with her. She had asked him for a chance to explain and he felt that he had no choice but to give it to her. He could make a scene, jump on her and hurt her somehow in his fight for answers, but then, he knew that he would be dragged away and she would stay and he would still have received no answers. It was Amber’s voice in his head that told him to stay calm, that keeping his temper would give him more of an opportunity to get what he so desperately needed from her. And so he did.

  It took but five minutes before he opened his eyes and saw that the two men and one woman that had turned their attention on them now firmly had their focus on something else, some conversation between them all. They were all laughing enjoyably, some deviously with evil glints in their eyes, but they were preoccupied and that was enough for Brian. He shifted, turning his head to the side to find the woman staring at him sadly. What was that? Was she pitying him? He needed no one’s pity…especially not hers.