Endgame (Book 2): Alekhine's Gun

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Endgame (Book 2): Alekhine's Gun Page 66

by W. A. R.


  She vaguely recalled how two more corpses had fallen seemingly from the heavens as she did her best to scurry from the first one under the house. Zeus continued barking and sparing a glance behind her she saw the one from before crawling towards her and it was closer, more excited than it had been…because it saw an opportunity. The Biter still held her legs, and she finally caught a glimpse of his head as the other two fell, one on top of him and the other farther away. She cast her eyes to the truck, her palms digging into the sticks and acorns littering the ground, and saw Damien wielding a knife with his good hand. She vaguely heard him yelling and belatedly, as the one Biter that had fallen farther away stood and advanced towards him, she knew what he was doing. He was trying to help her. She grit her teeth. She had come too far to fail now, to fail her family and her people and Damien sure as hell wouldn’t die before she needed him. She was going to be the one to kill him, not some monster. She kicked hard one last time, freeing herself from under the weight of two corpses and she quickly shifted back from them, attempting to stand whenever the one from behind her gripped at her shirt. She withdrew her knife from her thigh, cringing and struggling to get away, to angle herself to him. As she did this, the other two began crawling towards her once again, one grasping at her foot and the other at her leg. She tried to stand, but their hold on her clothing stayed and they drug with her, bringing her back down. Her hands gripped at the leaves and dirt, desperate in her attempt to free herself. She clutched her knife and leaned forward, thrusting the blade into the head of the Biter gripping her boot; her biggest hurdle.

  The one behind her was now at her side. Through the rapid heartbeat she heard their moans, heard Zeus’s barking and even heard Damien shuffling across the leaves and yelling but she paid no mind to it. She couldn’t. She had to get free. She again attempted to angle herself to kill the Biter at her side, the one Zeus had barked at, the one with one arm, no legs. It was pathetic really, her attempts. She would look back later at the turn of events and realize it all played out how it was meant to, that she was always meant to be a monster…and she hated it. She couldn’t get a good angle on it, it’s hollow eye sockets staring at her like she was nothing and the sight made her shudder. And so, she twisted again, trying to shake it off of her, kicking her leg and twisting it to rid herself of the other one as it gripped her with both hands, its teeth coming down. She quickly, without thinking of anything else, drove the knife into its skull, stopping it completely.

  It had happened so fast. No sooner had the knife buried into the skull of the one on her leg did the one at her back bite her. She felt the sharp pain that came with it, could feel the warm blood flowing from her hip. Tears pricked her eyes and she cried out. It burned, it pinched, it bled. This was it. She tried to wrench herself free of it, tried to kill it, but it wasn’t her knife that killed it. Damien’s hand entered her eyesight, knife in hand, and as her eyes burned with unshed tears, his knife disappeared and the movement from the monster stopped. She watched as he withdrew his knife and forced it into the Biter’s mouth to relinquish his hold her, to keep from pulling her flesh from her. Once she felt the teeth loosen, she glanced around and, sure there was no more danger, fell back, tears falling down her face.

  It had happened so fast. She would later learn that Damien had killed the one Biter by holding it at a distance with the door, and then, despite the agony he was enduring from his broken body, drug his body across the ground with his good hand to her, but he was still too late. Still…she was grateful he had pried the mouth from her…she would have hated the blood loss she thought ironically. And as she lay back on the ground, rotten flesh covering her body, decaying skin beneath her fingernails, she turned her head to the side. She looked at the pathetic monster that had bested her, and on the other side was Damien cringing and looking at her with concern. Those empty eyes, she was sure, would soon be her own. Her skin would lose its glow and her heart would stop beating. Without her family though, it already had because she had failed. She had failed them all. She had become both of these monsters, both like Damien and the Biter…and both had inevitably led her to this point. She could taste death.

  Still, Damien had saved her and at least Damien had a hope and so she stood, gathering her strength and ignoring the flow of blood down her leg and across her hip, she helped Damien stand up. After setting him on the steps and checking out the house, she helped him up the stairs with great difficulty, Zeus following dutifully behind. She had never been more frightened, had never felt so helpless and alone…the last thing her family would remember of her was that she had let them be taken away.

  “What…Amber…what…” Buddy stammered, his eyes wide and fearful. They all sat in the truck, just seconds after her great reveal. She couldn’t look at him and so instead she reached over and began undoing the tie of Miles’s shirt on her leg, above the bite. She wanted them to see, to witness the horror she had endured, and yet, she didn’t want to witness their revulsion, their distaste with her and what she had become. Lacy shifted in her seat, easing back a little towards the door. Amber couldn’t blame her. She would have been scared too. Miles, however, said nothing. She wasn’t sure whether to be comforted in that fact or concerned.

  Amber felt the stinging behind her nose and she bid it back. “I was first bitten... on my side.” Professional, to the point, and emotionless; it was how it had to be. She knew that as soon as she let her emotions come into the picture, things would escalate quickly. These realizations didn’t take away the tears that were already on her face, or the fear that already twisted her stomach. She glanced around out of the windows and breathed a sigh of relief. They would be back to the community soon.

  “When?” Lacy asked cautiously, and for the first time, Miles moved. He cast a furtive glance at Lacy and Amber wondered what he was thinking. Hell, Lacy deserved to know as well considering she was going on this mission with her.

  “Look, I’m more concerned about what just happened. How will killing those men affect…” she began in an attempt to change the subject to the present situation.

  “When?” Buddy asked then, more forcefully that Lacy had.

  She sighed, realizing that there was no escaping it. “Two weeks ago.” The answer came and it rolled off of her tongue surprisingly easy.

  Buddy’s eyes furrowed in confusion. “You mean…the same day…”

  “Yes.” She said, her voice devoid of emotion. She looked over at Rusty, Riley, and Michael, all of who at there, their eyes focused on her and the road. She understood that they were ready to defend her, though she did so a bit bitterly. She was their highest card, their miracle. She was human, their friend, but she was also the world’s salvation.

  Buddy gulped again and Amber thought he was going to be sick. “And you’re…” he couldn’t seem to finish his thoughts. He was turning pale.

  “Still alive and still human.” Amber finished for him before turning to Miles. He stared at her meeting her eyes and she sighed. “I promise.” She felt the desperate urge to assure them and her words came out softer than she had intended. Miles fidgeted just a moment, and she wanted him to touch her and hold her as if nothing had ever happened, like he had never been taken and she hadn’t been bitten.

  “How…I mean…” Buddy stammered, clearly having trouble digesting this news and so she sighed, her nerves damn near making her sick, and she told them the story of how it had happened. What she didn’t convey to them was the fear she had felt, how she had broken down under the weight of it all. They had to know that, to some extent, she remained strong. They all listened without a word of interruption and for some reason, though that should have comforted her, it brought her a sense of unease. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted their acceptance or if she wanted them to hate her because…really, she wanted assurance that it was…alright…that she hated herself.

  Once she was finished, Miles finally spoke. “You’re serious?” he asked, still tense and she knew that he was still prepared to do whate
ver it took to save her life.

  “I swear on my life…I was going to tell you all soon…I was just waiting for the right time…”

  Miles cut her off. “So…you’ll live? You’ll be fine?” he asked her, desperate and anxious for a clear answer. He was still so very terrified and she hated having put that look in his eyes.

  “I’ll be fine.” She said softly. The relief that washed over him was visible and he sagged back against the door. Amber twisted his blood-covered shirt in her hands nervously. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the window.

  “So that was how Damien saved your life…” he trailed off, almost as if he were talking to himself. She nodded, grateful for his understanding.

  “Yes.” She admitted. Had Damien not killed that other Biter, if that other Biter had come after her as well, she very well could have been dead. He had helped her…he had saved her.

  “So,” he hesitated, then, straightening and looking at her once again with such a deep intense sadness that it gripped her. “Are you infected?” he then asked, though from the tone of his voice it seemed as if he already knew the answer, or maybe didn’t care what the answer was. His mind had already been made up. Amber shifted on her feet and studied the ground. She had anticipated this question, but the sting of remorse held tight to her. Of course Miles would be the one to ask her that.

  “No.” she told him finally and Buddy eased forward then, his voice raising an octave and she flinched in response.

  “How can you know for sure?” he asked and Amber lifted her eyes to meet his. He was scared, terrified even, and oddly, though she had prepared herself for it, it hurt for her to witness the fear in her best friend’s eyes. Glancing at Miles, and noting his look of sadness, not for him, but for her, she realized she was glad of it. If he looked at her like Buddy did as well, it would have been her undoing.

  “Do you really think I would endanger any of you?” she asked him easily, trying to keep the tremble from her voice. “You are my family…”

  “You’ve lied about everything else!” he countered and she winced, refusing to back down from his explosion. She deserved it because, really, he was right to an extent. “You’ve lied about Michael, you’ve lied about your death, and you kept the plan from all of us…You kept this from us!”

  “Please understand that I did all of that for all of you…Not because I wanted to. It was just better that way…” Miles moved then and placed his head in his hands and though Buddy growled, he didn’t say anything else. They all sat patiently, watching her, and waiting for her answer. She shifted on her feet and felt sick, the metallic taste of blood returning to her tongue. She swallowed, her eyes shutting tightly against the memories. “And I know I’m not infected because…because I tested it.”

  “What do you mean you tested it?” Miles asked then, his voice even and calculating. She couldn’t look at him because she hated herself and she couldn’t handle seeing her own hate reflected in his eyes.

  Michael moved forward then from his seat, Rusty at his side, both ready to defend her and their presence stopping Miles in whatever move he was going to make. He looked at Amber for a long moment as if begging her, his face dropping with a heartfelt sadness. “She doesn’t have to answer that.” But she did, and she knew she did. She was corrupted, and Buddy was right. She had lied about so much and if she wanted to gain back their trust after everything, then they very well deserved to know everything, no matter how bad it hurt or how horrible it looked. In that brief moment, she knew that the time for bottling up all of her emotions, all of her secrets, was gone and if not then, then very soon they would all come out. May as well begin with the worst one yet. Guilt gnawed at her, but she lifted her chin in defiance. She was their leader and she wasn’t going to back down. She was their role model, their example and she certainly wouldn’t appear weak. Michael continued. “All any of you need to know is that she isn’t…” A monster. She finished before opening her mouth, her mind running a mile a minute. But I am a monster.

  Amber snapped her eyes open then. “I tested it on Damien.” She spat out firmly, showing no signs of backing down. Everyone sat still, frozen, their eyes widened in surprise, shock, or maybe even fear. She wasn’t sure at all about this; what she was sure of, however, was that regardless of how bad this was, no matter what she lost, she was going to go through with it. She had to face her demons.

  “You…you did what?” Buddy stammered and Lacy shifted back a little.

  “I heard that you didn’t like the guy…that you had tortured him…but I didn’t think you would go that far…” Lacy said uneasily, almost accusingly. For a second Amber wondered who had told her these things, where she had heard them. Michael squared his shoulders then.

  “He volunteered and we told her to.” Michael’s voice lifted then, clarifying that should there be any hostility, that it should be directed at him. Amber’s mind began drifting back, delving into the memories “We saw a chance…he saw it too. He had told her that she wasn’t…”

  …she wasn’t expendable and he was. That was what Damien had told her as she stood before him, her eyes watering and sweat rolling down the back of her neck.

  Michael and Rusty had arrived two days after she had been bit, and had known that something was wrong as soon as they pulled up. She had been sitting on the stairs for an entire forty-eight hours. It had been forty-eight hours and she had not gotten a fever, had not changed in the slightest aside from her nerves being shot. She had remained outside for the most part, the door closed. She couldn’t risk Damien’s life if she changed, and so the only times she went in was to feed him and offer him water or any other relief. Other than that, she kept Zeus in the house and sat on the stairs…and she waited.

  She waited for two days, waited for death to come for her. She was ready for it, ready for the inevitable. She could have killed herself, kept from becoming a monster she hated so very much, but she had to let Michael and Rusty know. They had to know that her death, her giving up and leaving wasn’t a bullet to the brain in her choice; that it wasn’t her choice at all. They had to see that she was taken and nothing she did could have stopped it. They would come and find her scratching at the closed door and they would end her. Maybe her family would understand.

  She had cried for hours until her eyes simply stopped producing tears. It hurt, her heart, and she sat frightened and alone, waiting to become the monster she knew she would be. But it never came. She had expected it to happen within hours, but when nothing happened, and she realized that other than the soreness of her body and the bite physically hurting as it would normally, that she wasn’t changing yet, she had helped Damien. And then she had gone right back out and waited some more. Twenty-four hours had passed before she began to think something was wrong. That was when she helped Damien once more and then she went out and looked at the Biter. It was a typical Biter, the same diseased and virus ridden being that every single other one was. There was nothing unusual about it, nothing out of the ordinary, and there was no logical explanation as to why she wouldn’t change. She had examined the bite, her shirt pulling at the skin and dried blood. It stung, but she saw it…the complete brutality of it. It was real…so very real. After that conclusion, she knew she was going to die. So she continued waiting. This went on for forty-eight hours, more or less, when Michael and Rusty pulled up. By the time they had come around, she had sat on the precipice of a nervous breakdown, had come to the possible conclusion that she was…she was everything Adrian had been looking for. Was she immune to it? Could those scientists, or someone, create an antibody from her virus immune blood? With these thoughts, she had scoured the house and searched for items to clean the wound with, to keep it from becoming infected. What would she become? Would she become anything? Was she truly the answer to so many vital questions? She had rocked back and forth until they arrived, and only then did she look up.

  They had slowly climbed from the truck, their eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She had s
tood then, looking at them easily before lifting her blood covered shirt, revealing the inflamed bite wound without a word passing between them. Michael had rushed forward, climbing the steps faster than she had anticipated before gripping her trembling hand and leaning down to examine the wound. Rusty sighed and Michael gulped. She knew what they were going to ask next and so she went ahead and answered them.

  “It’s been two days…” she glanced at the darkening sky. “Maybe a little less…maybe a little more.” Her voice wavered. Both men’s eyes widened and before she realized what was happening they had ushered her into the comfort of the house, despite her protests, and began doctoring her, peppering her with questions.

  “What happened?” A lot.

  “Are you sure it was a Biter?” Yes.

  “Have you been bitten before?” No.

  “You should have already turned…this isn’t right.” I know.

  Michael’s hands had checked her for fever while Rusty’s flashlight checked her eyes, her pupils, for alertness and dilation. They checked her pulse and cleansed her bite, wrapping it with bandages that Rusty had left in the truck. After a thorough investigation and multiple checks, they came to the same conclusion that she did. She was the cure. There was no other explanation. They had all sat dumbfounded, Damien included. She was what the world had searched for, continued to hunt and kill for, and there she sat in that living room with the son of her once lover and the son of her enemy.

 

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