Endgame (Book 2): Alekhine's Gun

by W. A. R.

  Michael lifted a brow at her and smiled. “Why do you ask?” he asked of her and she shrugged. Rusty stepped forward then.

  “We know why you are asking. I saw you two the other night.” He nudged Buddy, wiggling his eyebrows. “There was some serious heat in that kitchen.” He joked and Buddy nudged him back hard, tossing him a look of annoyance. Michael chuckled and Amber lowered her bottle, trying to fight the flush climbing up her cheeks. She was grateful that she had just finished exerting herself in the fight. They would never notice it.

  She shrugged, cursing Rusty for in inopportune timing. Of course he had seen them through the window when ambling up to the porch. How could he not have? “I’m just curious. I haven’t seen him much lately…we’ve both been so busy that it’s been chaotic.”

  “Maybe he didn’t like your deep, dark secret.” Rusty teased, motioning towards her abdomen, her leg. Amber grimaced and looked away. “I mean…I was pretty grossed out when I first saw it….OW!” he exclaimed suddenly as Buddy punched him in the shoulder, narrowing his eyes at the young man.

  “Don’t you know when you have officially stuck your foot in your mouth? Shut up.” He growled before turning back to Amber. Amber swallowed thickly. Rusty was right though, to some extent. She was different, she was a monster. But he hadn’t heard the things Miles had told her, hadn’t felt the gentleness with which he had comforted and eased her fears.

  “You’re wrong. Rusty.” She stated to Rusty and Michael smirked. “I know better than that.” Now.

  “To answer your question, however, yes I have talked to him. He is enjoying getting all of the practice he can get with Larry and the others.” Michael told her, watching for her reaction. She swallowed thickly and tried to keep her face impassive. She was becoming a very good actress, but then again, she guessed she had to be to get past Adrian.

  “Oh. Good.” Amber replied, replacing her water bottle on the hollow stump. “I’m glad we are all doing well with adjusting and staying committed to our plans of action before we leave.”

  Michael crossed his arms and shifted on his feet. “Have you talked to him?”

  His question was sudden and for a moment it confused Amber. “I just told you I hadn’t seen him very much. I saw him this morning.” They had met in the kitchen, her having just woken from slumber, and he had been quick to come to her and offer her his gentle, warming smile and soft words of ‘Good morning’.

  “Have you talked to anyone?” he asked her and suddenly, she could feel all three pairs of eyes on her. She shifted, feeling the irritation once again rise up.

  “I may have. Why won’t you all leave me alone about that? Seriously, I’m fine.” I can control it.

  “I don’t think so…I think…” but a distant sound reached her ears. She felt everything freeze for a moment and she lifted her hand to shush Michael. He quieted down, as did Rusty and Buddy stepped up beside her, his ears perked up as well, his eyes searching around them at the large wall and the wooden gate.

  “Did you hear that?” Buddy asked her and she shifted a little, her eyes remaining riveted to the large gate, the door to the outside world. What was that noise? It was so distant that she almost missed it. But no, Buddy had heard it too. It couldn’t be that far off.

  “It almost sounded like…” she trailed off, unable to finish her thought. She took a step forward, listening again and then it hit her. Roars, familiar roars that rose and snatched the very breath from her lungs; one, then two, and then a third. A gunshot. Screams. A truck starting.

  She hadn’t even realized they were running, her body just acting on the fear and desperation that licked at her bones. Buddy and the others were at her heels as she raced to the wall, desperate for the gate to open.

  “Radio the tower! Now!” Amber screamed at the young man, at Rusty, as he veered off to the left, towards one of the trucks that were parked to the side. Amber’s heart pounded against her chest, hammering so hard that it threatened to beat right out. She couldn’t breathe and fear clasped at her heart. It wound tight around her body like a vise, holding her hostage, and when she reached the gate, she pounded her fists against it in anger. Her vision was darkening around the edges. She tamped down her fear, her body working on instinct.

  “What is it?” a townsperson asked upon seeing them running to the gate. Amber turned to the growing crowd of onlookers.

  “Get in your homes and hide!” she exclaimed and immediately they dispersed, too frightened to ask what was happening any further. She turned back to the gate as the chains creaked. Yes, she thought, they were lowering it. She banged on the gates harder. A truck horn sounded just beyond the wall and she felt tears prick her eyes. Larry, Derek, Jacob, Rick…Miles. They were all out there. Amber knew that sound…it continued to haunt her nightmares. It was the horrid screams of the desperate and the hungry, of the pained and the dead. Those modified hybrids, those experimentations, were out there. More gunshots and a scream. Hurry! Her mind screamed but her body was too frozen to find the words. The gate creaked more so and she found some desperate resolve. “Guns! Go get guns!” she exclaimed at Rusty, who was running towards them from the truck, and Michael and after a brief hesitation they did as she ordered. She couldn’t formulate any more coherent thoughts…hell, she wasn’t even thinking. The only pictures that came to her mind was getting the life choked out of her, watching as Brian nearly died, struggling to go save Miles from certain death. Yes, she was running on desperation, on survival instinct. She had only thought she was scared before…no, her imagination did nothing to prepare her for this walk down memory lane. This was the real fear: these monsters and their creator and the trembling in her body told her that she was on the precipice of insanity. She straddled the fence between knowing that she was going to lose it and not caring if she did.

  Suddenly the gate dropped with a loud bang and before she knew what happened she saw Larry’s truck race through the entry, a young man named Charles the only on in the cab. The truck swung sideways in its haste before stopping and Amber’s eyes scoured the vehicle. He was shaking his head, panicking. Another roar sounded. More screams. No…they were all out there alone. Amber rushed up to Charles.

  “Where are they?” she shouted at him, her eyes like fire. Charles ignored her, grabbing and shaking his head, murmuring pathetic apologies. Looking back, she figured that was when she had officially snapped and fell off of the cliff. She didn’t think logically, then again, she never had when it concerned her family. All she knew was that they were out there and that she couldn’t leave them to fight alone. Amber opened the truck door and grabbed him by his collar. Tears fell down her face. “Where are they?” she asked again desperately, unable to mask her fear and anger. She had lost that ability when she realized they were out there, when she realized what was out there with them.

  He looked at her with tear filled eyes. “Just up the road, right past the razor wire fence on the left.” He told her and without thinking, Amber surged forward, Buddy after her, trying to catch her to stop her. It was no use, because she was on a mission. On some level, she could comprehend that they had all been right, that she needed to deal with it all, but that was but a small echo of ‘I told you so’. It was too late; she had lost it and the control she thought she had over the fear, over the anger, was gone. She had never had control of it to begin with it.

  “RUN!” Miles had screamed at them and Derek had jerked Jacob forward. They left Miles standing there, and Derek refused to let Jacob go back, to let Jacob help Miles. A gunshot was heard and he had glanced over his shoulder, on capturing a snippet of the monster, gathering its height, hearing its roar and the thud as what could be assumed as Miles’s body thrown back to the ground at their feet. He had missed. The monster was quick, had to be, for Miles to miss, but that thought was fleeting as they ran to the truck. Jacob turned and grabbed Larry’s arm as the older man struggled to keep up. They could make it, he knew they could. Miles would keep the monster busy as they made it to the t
ruck. Derek grabbed Rick and suddenly, another sound reached their ears.

  The truck. The truck had started.

  They could see it, the tan and brown of the old thing, and they rushed forward, desperate. His chest went tight, the agony of defeat clutching at his body. Charles was in the driver’s seat, crying, shaking his head and though they screamed, cried out for him to wait, he shifted it and began speeding off down the road. And standing there on the asphalt, they watched as two more gargantuan monsters exited the tree line to the right, one of them hitting the tail end of the truck with his fist and roaring, causing the truck to fishtail. Charles pressed the accelerator harder, getting out of there and leaving them as prey to the horrid, to the dead. That son-of-a-bitch.

  This all happened within two seconds. And with witnessing all of this, Jacob took in every horrible detail of the monsters, remembering with stunning accuracy what the others before had done, had looked like. Their skin sagged from their large bones, their flesh drooping slightly as if it was putty melting in the summer sun and yet still their definition was phenomenal, inhuman. They were large, behemoth, towering over them, even from a distance. Their steps were hurried, and could almost be described as running, as they exited the woods. They were strong enough to damage the truck, to throw it off track, with just one hit. They were the things of nightmares, the undeniable fear of what they would soon be fighting against and he felt sick. His heart hammered against his chest and the widened and shocked eyes of Rick and Larry told him that they had gathered all of this as well. They were too weak, too slow. They would die; he swallowed…so many of them had before, at the hands of similar hunger crazed demons. They had to leave.

  “What the...” Rick began, and both of their lifeless eyes turned to them immediately and they inhaled sharply before releasing another roar. Larry tried to grab his gun before remembering that both he and Miles had left the rifles in the truck so they could carry the wood. Charles and Rick were the ones that were supposed to cover them while they did this. Jacob and Derek stumbled back a step, bumping into Rick and Larry. Jacob reached behind him and tried to grab at Rick’s gun as the monsters began advancing toward them. They couldn’t breathe.

  Another gunshot sounded in the woods, another roar, and this distracted the monsters for just the briefest of moments before Jacob turned and shoved at Rick and Larry, urging them back into the depths of the woods. They didn’t argue, unsure what to think, what to do, and so the two men rushed into the thickness of the forestry. Derek, however, glanced at Jacob apologetically.

  “Take them in the woods and hide them! I will distract these two!” and with that he took off down the roadside, effectively catching their attention. “Come and get me assholes!” he shouted and suddenly one of the monsters raced after him, causing Derek to jump into the woods. The monster followed, which only left one for Jacob. He turned his wide, fearful eyes up and saw the last monster drop its jaw, roaring, screeching, and suddenly he was charging. Jacob, with no other choice, ran into the woods as well, sticking close to the tree line, steering the monster away from the direction he had sent Rick and Larry.

  Three; three experimentations in the woods: Miles perishing at the hands of one, the echoes of his screams stinging Derek’s chest, one chasing after him as he ran, unsure of where he was going, and another somewhere after Jacob. He had seen that much. Fear was his companion and he knew that there was no escaping it. The cool air stung and he couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen. A tight band wrapped around his ribs as more screams, from who he assumed was Larry, sounded. He winced, and over the loud and steady heartbeat pounding in his ears, he heard the thundering footsteps of the hellacious creature gaining on him. He couldn’t think of them, couldn’t think of who was hurt, who was dying; he had this one Biter he had to take down before it could hurt anyone else. The trees swirled around him, all of them so damn familiar and he knew that he was lost in their depths. He didn’t mind; if it meant saving the others, he was alright with that. The branches whipped at his skin, at his clothing, tearing and ripping. He ignored it; he had to. And though his legs felt like jelly he had to keep running. The monster behind him roared and he could smell the stench of death coming from it. Keep Pushing. He ordered himself, remembering how he had made it before. He had run. He and his people had run. But when he felt the cool feel of bony fingertips gripping at his shirt, he knew that he had to change something about this plan. The knife on his hip told him that he could at least try.

  Miles turned and saw the Biter behind them and everything within him went white with rage, fear, uncertainty. It was everything he remembered about them. Large, grotesque, and decrepit, and strong as it swung and hit a tree to Miles’s left. They had just been standing there, and now, this monster had found them in the depths of the forest. His first action was to order the others away; forcing them to leave him with the monster that he knew would kill him, and his second was to retrieve his gun, aiming it and firing. But the creature was faster than he remembered and easily sidestepped the bullet and the dull sound of lead hitting flesh was the only sound Miles heard through his ringing ears. Before he could aim again, however, the monster had swung at Miles, catching him in the chest and Miles grunted at the sharp pain that met him and he flew, rolling on the leaf covered ground where the others had just retreated. For the slightest of moments he was grateful that the others had left, that they wouldn’t endure this torture. Yes, he intended on taking out this creature before it could do more damage, as he knew the damage that it could cause, but he knew that odds were he wouldn’t make it out alive either. He didn’t think of the pain, and the recurring fear that threatened to wound around him so tight he couldn’t breathe, refused to think of what would happen if this monster lived and reached the community, because he knew if he did he would break and he would go down without the monster. He couldn’t let that happen.

  And so, he rushed to his knees, his eyes and hands searching for his gun among the leaves and twigs of the forest floor. He cried out whenever the monster rushed forest faster than Miles had never expected and kicked him in the stomach. It was so damn strong. The agony was real, the feeling like his insides had exploded and after he screamed out in pain, the monster stopped as if confused or possibly even entertained. Miles took this moment to retrieve his other gun and he pulled it up to fire. The monster had anticipated this however, and thrust his hand forward, grabbing his wrist and twisting it as his finger pulled the trigger. More lead hitting flesh. He cried out again, thinking the monster had snapped his wrist in two, and then he heard Larry scream as well and another roar. He should have known there was more than this one. He was desperate, sick to his stomach, terrified. Quickly, with much force he jerked his hand from the monster’s grip and rushed to his feet, running swiftly behind a tree. The monster screeched as if angry and Miles grimaced, his chest hurting. The creature followed but Miles evaded him by running behind another tree, and another. The creature slammed a hand against the tree Miles was behind. The big pine shook and Miles scowled, trying to regain his balance, his senses, from when he had been kicked. The monster hit again and just as Miles was about to run its large hands snaked their way around the tree. The monstrous experimentation gripped Miles’s shirt from both sides and he was jerked roughly back against the tree, his head snapping back and connecting with the tree. His vison swam and he began struggling to remove himself from its grasp. It was no use. His feet left the ground and he began kicking as the monster’s hands clasped around his chest, squeezing the breath out of him. Miles felt his chest tighten and the air left his lungs. His eyes watered as he felt his spine press harder and harder against the tree. It hurt so fucking bad. He clawed at the hands but to no avail. His eyes felt as if they were about to burst from their sockets and his lips felt swollen. He swung his arm around the tree as best he could, trying desperately to rid himself of the monster. The gun was in his hand and he twisted it, firing off two shots before the weapon was knocked from his weak hand. Miles then just sa
gged against the tree, unable to fight against the agonizing crushing of his chest, unable to breathe and the monster tightened his hold, the pine tree cracking between them.

  One, two, three…four, five, six…. click, click, click. Six shots were fired from his left, no his right? Behind him? He wasn’t sure; everything was a blur. What he was sure of however, was the release of the monster’s hold and the ground meeting him as he fell into a collapsed heap. He gasped for precious air, his chest hurting like hell in the process. The shots that were fired were panicked, hasty but he didn’t care. All that mattered then was that he could breathe. A figure somewhat rushed to his side as he gasped and coughed, winced and moaned against the creaking of the bones in his chest as he moved. He rolled onto his back, searching for the precious air he had been deprived of, stretching his chest as it pulled, aching. Every breath was a chore and as his vision cleared, the blurriness of it all fading away, he saw one person he never expected to see again and a new fear rushed through him. Miles couldn’t move, couldn’t fight him as the man tried to help him stand. He wanted to kill him, to brutalize him, but he couldn’t, not when every breath hurt.