Endgame (Book 2): Alekhine's Gun

by W. A. R.

  Would she be alright? Yes, she reasoned, she would. She had let loose everything that she had held so very deeply and she had cried until there were no more tears left. Yes, there was still hurt but it wasn’t like before…it was lighter, easier to look at in the face than it was before. She gulped, looking up at this marvel of a man when another knock sounded. Still, he never took his eyes off of her. He must have seen the uncertainty in her eyes because when he spoke again, there was a pain in his eyes.

  “Tell me to stay with you and I will stay.” He told her and the sincerity with which he spoke those words made her heart ache. He would, and she knew that he would. She turned her eyes to the side, glancing at the window and the darkness that came with the night. He would do anything that she asked…and she knew, she knew that she would do absolutely anything that he asked. She would have to remember not to close herself to him anymore because there was no way that she was going without him. She couldn’t and she was never sure why she thought she could. He was her strength.

  “No…it’s fine. I’ll be fine. Go…he’s waiting.” She told him with honesty, turning her eyes back to him. She could see the war raging within the depths of his eyes and there was a sadness that overtook his features. His fingers moved to brush along the side of her face. She shivered.

  “Will…” he paused, thinking over his next words. When he brought his eyes to hers, she couldn’t turn away. “I know that you’re still hurting…so…if you need your distance…” He was stumbling over the pain in his words and Amber knew what he was trying to say. He thought that she was going to pull away from him again, that she was going to delve back into her own personal torment.

  And so, she closed her eyes and tightened her grip on the back of his neck, pulling his face down to hers. Her lips pressed against his cheek and he instantly brought his hands to wrap around her waist, pulling her tight against him. It was soft, and it was gentle. It was a promise, one she knew that both she and he needed. She needed him, and she wasn’t sure how she ever managed without him. She needed him to stay with her and she couldn’t let him go. Slowly, she removed her lips from his cheek just a little, and they stood, staring at one another through heavy lidded eyes and the air they breathed was intertwined.

  “Go. I will be here waiting in the morning for you to come back to me.” She told him, her breath warm against his lips as he held her close, refusing to let her go. Tears gathered in her already burning eyes as he closed his in sweet relief. Her lip trembled with an aching pain, remembering everyone that had been pulled from her grasp. She tightened her arm around his neck and sniffled. “Just promise me that you’ll come back to me.”

  It wasn’t a request for his return, not really. They had been separated since they had gotten to the community. No, this was a request for his presence beside her, that he assure her and come back to her just as he was right then, open and bare, with her after everything. She was wounded and hurting, her heart bleeding and he was the only one to see how bad the damage was and still want to see it, heal it. He was the only one that could. He closed his eyes and she could have sworn that there were tears in their brown depths.

  “I never left you.” He told her and with that, he gave her one last kiss, gentle and promising, a comfort in the mixture of chaos. His breath intermingled with hers as he pulled away, placing his forehead against hers. “And I never will.” And with that, he slowly released her and turned, aiming for the front door just as another, impatient knock sounded.

  Amber, watching him leave, felt her heart break with the memories and so, after all the crying she had done, found her way upstairs and crawled into her messy bed. She curled into the fetal position and she buried her face into the pillow and she cried some more. She sobbed and she bawled for all that she was worth, hating and cursing the past, missing her father and her son, regretting some of her actions, but all in all, as she lay there in the wee hours of the night and into the early hours of the morning, she came to terms with it all, and she accepted it for what it was. She knew that there would be more work to do on her anger, on her temper, but in that moment, she needed to accept the hurt and the pain. She lay there and she let it all flow, the bleeding of her aching heart until there was nothing left to it, and then she lay there a bit longer, allowing herself to stitch it back up into one ragged piece.

  And when Miles came to her the following morning in the midst of this, bathed in the pink light of the sunrise, he held her against him as he comforted her, and he finished the healing of it, placing the final stitches to heal her broken heart. And yet, her heart felt more hardened while it was complete. She could feel it, that something was off…she was simply unsure what. Still, she was beginning to accept everything as it was and she vowed that she would do whatever it took to keep her people safe.

  She knew then, without a doubt, that she would be able to face anything that Adrian threw at her.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Derek walked alongside Rick, Jacob, Lawrence, and another young man named Charles. They were outside the walls of the community, guns on their shoulders and knives on their hips. This was what they did. They wondered the area around the community, the area before the razor wire in order to take out Biters before they made it that far, to gather wood for fire, storing it for the coming winter. The cool air already brought about a chill and Derek shivered, even as sweat beaded at the edge of his hairline before rolling down his neck. No one said much, then again, no one had said much of anything since a week before. It had been a little over two weeks, three tops, since they had arrived, and things seemed to have been going well. They all had gone to their jobs while Michael and the others began planning for their mission. They had all settled in, making the community their home. Derek and the others had gotten used to their duties, and it made the days just all that more fulfilling. He had gotten used to splitting wood, his body building the strength to do it easily, and he had gotten used to wondering the outskirts of the community, and even eliminating the Biters that were trapped in the ‘mote’, for lack of a better term. He could admit that he felt good. Amber’s forgiveness of his brash actions that had led to their demise lifted a weight from him and since their conversation he felt renewed, at peace with who he was and with the situation at hand. He could admit that for his part, as well as all of the others with the exceptions of Miles, Buddy, Amber, and Rick…they all had adjusted and it was almost as if the horrors of before never happened.

  He was concerned about Rick, however. The man seemed down, lost deep within his thoughts. Derek knew that the man was worried for not just one, but both of his cousins. One was a prisoner of the enemy and the other a prisoner of her own mind. He was in turmoil with his own inner guilt and regret at how things ended with Brian and how he couldn’t help ease Amber’s mind. She was desperate, and no one could blame her, and instead they all hurt for her…everyone it seemed, except for Miles. Derek wasn’t sure what had occurred between the two of them, but whatever it was had spurred him, burned him, and he simply couldn’t stand to be away from her. It seemed that the wild in her eyes was slowly diminishing, and Derek knew that it was in thanks to Miles. He knew the man wanted to protect her, that he loved her. And so, the man had joined them on their ventures outside the walls, angrily taking out any Biter within proximity, explaining to them once that he was venting his frustrations that killing Biters was the best therapy there was. He was on edge, stating that he didn’t want to get rusty in killing them…he didn’t want to forget about this threat, even as there were larger threats at bay. Rick seemed uncomfortable with it all, unsure of how to take Miles’s constant presence in spite of everything. Rick wanted to speak to Miles, that much was obvious, and Derek wondered if maybe he thought he could help Miles with Amber, help her regain her footing from where she had lost it. Derek wasn’t sure, and Rick never said anything to him; no one did though they all wanted to. They discussed their current activities, but other than the discussion of Biters, none of them approached any sens
itive subject there might be…at least, not until that day, a little over a week after they arrived.

  “Anything out your way?” Derek called out to Charles and Rick who were about fifty yards into the tree line to the right away. After a moment of silence, Derek turned and watched as Both Charles and Rick dropped three Biters with their machetes. Derek let his knife holding hand hang at his side as he watched them drop. Charles smirked at the Biter on the ground before rearing back and kicking the stiff dead body as hard as he could. Rick grimaced as the head came off with a loud crack and rolled along the ground.

  Derek had, over the past week, learned to ignore Charles. Lawrence, or Larry as he liked to be called by Derek’s people, had explained that Charles was…troubled, to say the least. Though he was a more recent addition to the community, it was made obvious very early on that he had no respect for those around him, nor did he take into consideration his actions and how they were perceived. Derek glanced at Jacob who stood to his left, wincing as he watched the same scene that Derek had witnessed just a second prior. Rick shook his head and began walking away angrily from the man while Miles and Larry were making their way towards Derek and Jacob, their arms full of wood and tools from a small run-down shed that they had found in the woods. Derek assumed it had been for a deer camp, as the woods were plentiful with wildlife, and he hadn’t been wrong as they found warm clothes, food, and some toiletries in the abandoned house.

  “Why in the hell does he have to do that shit?” Jacob asked as he knelt down to a bush of wild berries. He began inspecting them, his dark eyes skimming over their texture and color, their plumpness before he began plucking at them. Derek shifted and removed a plastic bag from his shoulder bag and held it open for the boy to place the berries.

  He sighed. “I’m not sure. It’s completely unnecessary.” He stated as Miles and Larry ambled past them, talking amongst themselves as they set the wood down to rest a moment. Though it was fall and the cool air was about them, the rich humidity of south Arkansas was still heavy in the depth of the woods, and considering the truck was a good bit of ways off on the road, they needed to take advantage of the time they had.

  “What?” Charles’s voice rang out, slicing through the echoing sound of Biters that were both trapped in the holes as well as the fences and even some that had yet to make their way to them. Derek exhaled heavily as Jacob placed more berries in the bag. Their work was continuous, time-consuming, and exhausting, but he reasoned it was worth it. At hearing Charles raise his voice, he turned to see the young man with arms spread wide in confusion and possibly even challenge, a smirk on his face. When Rick didn’t respond and kept his back to the man, Charles shrugged and turned, stomping repeatedly on the head of another Biter. Yes, they were monsters, and they needed to be killed…but as far as taking pride in having to kill these things…they didn’t do that. He swallowed. They respected it to an extent because they understood that these creatures, these monsters were once humans; they were once mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, brothers…sisters.

  Charles, however, worried him. He understood taking them out in anger, and understood that sometimes one needed to vent and take out frustration on these creatures; hell, it would only help in eliminating more of the threat, but Charles…even after killing them, he would hit them, kick them…beating the dead and broken bodies as if they could feel it and he did all of this with a smile on his face. When hunting earlier in the week, Derek had come across Charles with a raccoon in a trap they had set up. And he had stood there along the tree line as he witnessed the young man study the frightened animal with crazed eyes before toying with it, cutting it here and there, removing an ear, a piece of his tail, and finally slicing the animal’s throat. And then, as Derek stood shocked, Charles had let the blood run over his fingers, his eyes taking in a twisted pleasure at the sight and feel of it.

  Yes, Larry was right; he was troubled.

  “Rick, my friend. Are you alright?” Larry asked, turning to look at Rick with a concerned expression. Miles’s eyes flicked from Rick to Charles and Derek noted the scrutinizing darkness that entered there.

  Rick’s face was red, his eyes angry and he refused to meet anyone’s eyes contact. “He damn near got me killed!” he exclaimed as he limped towards them. Derek winced, no longer paying attention to Jacob. Though Rick was healed for the most part, his wounds were still mending, and though he could walk and had use of his hands, he would forever be left with a limp and limited use of his hands thanks to whatever it had been that caused them. No, he still hadn’t told them what had happened to him, not even Amber, though at times, it appeared as if he wanted to. Derek understood that Rick was guilty and too remorseful to face her, however. He threw his hand up angrily to the side at an advancing Charles. “He was too busy toying with the damn monster to help me take out the two that were on me!”

  “Oh no…” Larry said easily, almost in physical pain. The older man shifted on his feet and Miles took a step forward, almost between Larry and the impending doom that was bound to follow. It was the first time someone had spoken out like that, the first time someone had decided to provoke Charles. Still, Rick was angry and didn’t care. His life had been on the line.

  “What did you say?” Charles asked loudly, his steps hurried as if he were chasing after a limping Rick. Rick stopped before Derek and Jacob, Miles and Larry to his left before shifting the gun on this shoulder with both hands and turning to Charles with narrowed eyes. Charles stopped, the smirk he had before still playing on his lips. Derek heard the rustling of leaves under feet and knew that Jacob was rising from his haunches. He gripped the bag of berries even tighter. The young man was crazy.

  “I said that your rash idiocy and recklessness damn near got me killed.” Rick repeated bitterly and Charles laughed haughtily.

  “It’s not my fault you’re weak.” He paused for a moment before taking another step forward, placing his hands on his hips. He narrowed his eyes at Rick. “If you can’t handle it, maybe you should have stayed behind with your buddy George, huh?”

  Before Derek even realized what had happened, Rick’s fist connected with Charles’s jaw. He stumbled, swearing in protest and cupping his jaw. Miles’s eyes were flaring as they stared at the man and Larry easily placed a hand on his shoulder. Rick, never missing a beat however, stepped forward and pointed a finger at Charles.

  “George is a hell of a lot stronger than you are and ever will be, you son of a bitch.” He stated and Charles smirked before spitting out some blood onto the leaves at their feet. He straightened, still cupping his jaw tenderly, and he laughed.

  “Looks like you bunch have some balls on you after all.” He laughed before twisting his head and the crack of his neck as it popped reached Derek’s ears and made him wince. “I thought the whole bunch of you were ignorant, weak fools.”

  Larry felt the need to intervene then. “Charles, are you trying to start a fight?” he asked condescendingly and Charles jerked narrowed eyes the older man. Derek couldn’t fight the shudder that ripped through him at the sight. There was so much malice in his eyes, so much disapproval and cruelty that Derek was genuinely worried.

  “Of course not, Larry. I’m just stating that I didn’t think the lot of you belong here.” He stated and he then stretched his chest, throwing his shoulders back and groaning, as if gearing up for a fight. Everyone watched him. “But now I see that maybe I was wrong. I thought that for sure your bunch of people, while everyone else idolized you all, you would bring nothing but heartache to us all.” Derek could tell that he was mocking them and visibly, everyone but Larry seethed. “By the way, how is Bobby-Jean? Still on the verge of killing herself?” he asked lifting a brow and immediately Miles and Rick lurched. Larry grabbed Miles by the arm and held him back, his fists clenched and his body taught. Derek had dropped the bag of berries and grabbed Rick as well, keeping him from fighting with the man, keeping him from giving the man what he wanted. “And Amber? Still going crazy? I’ve seen it
all.”

  “That is enough, Charles! Where is all of this coming from?” Larry asked loudly, interrupting anything else that Charles would have said, though it seemed as if he already knew the answer.

  “Think about it Larry! All we have seen since they have been here is nothing but more Biters and the very real risk of being found by them.” He paused before fear suddenly laced his features. Derek was slightly taken aback at this sight. “I can’t go back there. I won’t.”

  “You don’t even know our stories.” Derek accused the young man.

  Charles cast his eyes to him, his expression torn between malice and pain and Derek understood then that these looks, this trepidation and the twisted pleasure he gets from gore and torture was because he had been tortured before. He had witnessed it. “I know what I’ve seen since you’ve been here. I refuse to believe the fanciful stories that everyone else believed. Like you lot taking down those monsters alone? Impossible. You aren’t heroes.”

  Miles shook himself of Larry’s grasp and leveled his gaze at the young man. “It is true and we damn near died doing it.”