Endgame (Book 2): Alekhine's Gun

by W. A. R.

  She turned to looked at him. “Because he still is your best friend.”

  He lost it then, and he closed his eyes tightly against the pain that was overwhelming him. A sob escaped his mouth and he felt the hot tears begin to flow in rivers across his face. His shoulders shook with the weight that was settling on him and his hands clench into white-knuckled fists in his lap. And as he sat there in the wake of the night, under the stars and against the wind, beside the only friend he had left, he cried. He cried for all that he was worth. It didn’t matter that she saw him; in fact, right then, he was grateful that she was there because when she reached over, her hand settling on his fist, he felt as if he weren’t drowning anymore. He was struggling to keep his head above water in the eye of the storm and she was offering him safety. He let her hold his hand. He let her comfort him in the silence as they both sat there, neither one saying a word because if one spoke too soon, it would only cause the pain to hurt worse.

  They sat like this for a long while; where seconds turned into minutes. Neither one moved. She let him cry, and she remained still and silent though he knew that she was in her own torment, her own pain. After a few minutes went by, the fog in his mind and the weight on his chest began to lift. The tears were still there on his face but as he stared at the stars, he hoped that somewhere Brian was able to do the same thing. Inhaling deeply, Rick knew that, for a fact, Brian was able to do that. He was able to breathe. He was able to live. He felt in his stomach then, really and truly felt, that he would be able to talk to Brian again, that at some point things between them would be fine again. He still couldn’t help but wonder…at what costs? Still, he knew that he would be able to figure that out later. There were the sounds of doors shutting, house doors, that inevitably ended the breakdown he was having. He moved then, opening his hand from the fist that it was and he slid his fingers against hers. His family. His cousin. His ‘sister’.

  He squeezed her hand, opening his eyes to look at the dark blue sky. “I needed to hear all of that.”

  She turned to look at him and smiled. “I know.”

  “That was a heavy burden on my shoulders.” He admitted to her and he felt her move, scooting just the slightest bit closer to him. She leaned her head over, resting her head on his shoulder.

  “One that you shouldn’t carry alone.” She whispered to him and he sniffled, bringing his free hand up to wipe the tears from his face. She sighed. “You were never in this world by yourself.”

  He nodded. “I know…”

  “I thought I was in it alone too.” She shared and he glanced down at the top of her head.

  “I heard about Lance.” He stated, sure that she was talking about her immunity. He was proven wrong, however, by her next words.

  “Not about Lance…not about my immunity.” She cleared her throat and shook her head against his shoulder. He could hear the emotion in her voice, threatening to break her. “Rick…I was so angry…I was hurt and pissed and I thought I had failed everyone. I thought I had failed every single one of you.”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked, genuinely curious.

  “Everything…from letting Brian, Miles, and Shelly leave that morning to the fighting and losing Kyle, to being bitten and even on that bridge when I thought Miles and Shelly were dead.”

  He moved a little and she lifted her head to look at him. “None of that was your fault. It couldn’t have been prevented.”

  She smiled sadly at him. “Tell that to my heart.”

  He shook his head. “No…you need to understand…”

  “I do understand…now. That’s kind of the point that I was getting at.” She stated, releasing his hand and moving to lean against the building where she had previously been. He studied her as she did this, replacing her hands in her lap where her fingers twisted together as a force of habit. He waited patiently for her to speak again, curious to hear what she was going to say and yet simultaneously fighting the urge to limp away because he knew that it was going to cause more emotion to build.

  “What point?”

  She turned her eyes to him again, only this time he actually caught her sincere stare. The brown of them surprised him; he had forgotten that she had changed that about herself to prepare for the mission soon at hand. In that split second, he no longer saw Amber McDermott, cousin and mother, but Amber McDermott…fighter, warrior, savior. She held a determination and a courage in her eyes that went unmatched by anything that he had ever witness before as well as a compassion and a sincerity that reached way beyond her years. There was a kind of hurt written along her scarred face that told of every loss she had and every pain that she encountered and yet still she had pulled through it. This was his family, his flesh and blood.

  “The day after you had all arrived here, I disappeared after the meeting we had.”

  “Yeah…I remember…” he trailed off, patiently waiting to hear what she was going to say.

  She brought her hand to her mouth and cleared her throat before dropping it back to her lap. “I had been dealing with a lot of inner turmoil. I had murdered people, I betrayed my family, and I conspired against them. I felt guilty. So incredibly guilty…”

  Bingo.

  That hit the nail on the head if that were at all any more possible than what had already happened, what had already been said. Guilty. He felt guilty…he felt remorse for everything that had happened, regret for what had happened to their own people and the innocent ones that were inadvertently involved…

  “…And then finding out that because I was going to meet Adrian that more people were going as well? People I care about? It wasn’t fair…and so I ran.” Rick shifted where he sat and followed her eyesight to the crosses. “Derek found me, the next morning.” She stated, the tears evident in her voice. Her heart was breaking, just as his was. She licked her lips and sniffled. “And though I felt guilty, he asked me for forgiveness because he felt guilty…and then he assured me that I had nothing to feel guilty about while I did the same for him.”

  “I think I know what you’re saying.” He told her, tears beginning to form in his eyes yet again.

  She nodded. “You feel guilty for what happened with Derek yesterday, for what happened with Larry, and Brian…and me as well. But Rick…you have nothing to feel guilty about.”

  “I have everything to feel guilty about.”

  “Then confess your sins.” She replied, turning her dark eyes to him. This took him by surprise. “I have killed men. I have tortured them. I have lied and I have forced pain. What wrong have you intentionally done?” Rick stared at her then, in shock, obviously unsure of what to say.

  “I…I don’t know…”

  She smirked a little at him. “That’s because you haven’t done it. You are a good person Rick, and I hate that you forgot that you were.”

  “You forgot you were too.”

  She looked over at him sadly. “There are things that even you do not know or understand.”

  He leaned back against the wall. “You’re still a good person.”

  “As are you.” She paused, again looking at the crosses; the crosses that were haunting him. “And you are not responsible for their deaths.”

  Rick nodded, feeling his emotions come into play again, the familiar sting there behind his nose. “I feel like I am.”

  “You feel like you are, but do you know that you aren’t?”

  After a long moment, he nodded. “Yes.”

  “Are you going to continue beating yourself up?”

  “No.” he told her truthfully. And then he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry we couldn’t have this conversation sooner…before it got so close for you to leave…before Brian was taken.”

  “Me too. But…it is what it is and we are here now. That is all that we can ask for.” She sighed then, letting a few tears escape. “Even after I leave…you know that you still won’t be alone…right?”

  He looked at her sadly before nodding. “It will take some time, but I thi
nk I can accept that.”

  “Please try…they will love you like Brian and I do if you will let them.”

  He smiled sadly at her, letting a few more tears escape. “I know. I’ll give it some time.” He paused and looked at her with sincerity in his eyes. “Thank you for talking to me. I needed it.” He told her. His voice was assuring and had emotion to it because what he had said was true. While the pain was still there, even some of the guilt, he knew that with time it would fade, it would drift away until he could handle it and move forward. He had needed to hear everything that she had said, had needed the assurance that she could offer. He felt just a little closer to her then, closer to how they had been before.

  She nodded then. “You’re my family, Rick. I am always here for you and,” she paused, coughing a little, “I swear I will do everything I can to protect all of you and get Brian back here.” She cleared her throat after she said this, deciding that it was time to address the very situation that weighed so very heavily on their hearts. Footsteps were heard coming from around the building. She sighed. “They were good men.”

  “Some of the best.” Miles then spoke as he rounded the corner of the building, followed by George, Buddy, Cassie, Shelly and then Bobby-Jean. Rick looked up at them all in surprise as they neared the pair that was seated on the ground facing the crosses. It was what was left of their group, sans Jacob and Elliot, both of who were resting. He understood then that this impromptu meeting had not been impromptu at all. It had been planned. Bobby-Jean lowered herself to the ground beside Rick and sighed, leaning her head back.

  “There has been so much loss among us.” She stated, her eyes distant, and Rick studied her wrinkled face, the fine lines of aging; lines that told so many stories. “And yet here we are. Still standing, still fighting.” Amber looked up at Miles who leaned forward, offering her a hand up. She took his hand and pulled herself up easily, looking at him with uncertainty. Still, she stood and waited as Miles moved to retrieve something from his pocket.

  Cassie rounded them and eased down to where Amber had been sitting. “What else are we going to do?”

  “We can’t give up. There is too much on the line.”

  Bobby-Jean looked up at George through narrowed eyes. “For us?” she asked and Rick, who had been sitting, feeling his aunt and his niece beside him, had an epiphany. They were all stronger than they gave themselves credit for. How could they not see that? After everything that they had been through, how could they not handle everything that was given to or thrown at them? The guilt he had felt had then mostly dissipated and he saw them all for what they were.

  “For everyone.” He said softly, finally understanding what Amber had been trying to get through his head. He was important and if he allowed unnecessary guilt to overwhelm him then their he would be dragging them down with him.

  “You think everyone else is our responsibility as well?” Bobby-Jean asked, though her words weren’t hostile in the least. They were almost reminiscent of Jackson and all of his optimistic sayings.

  “I think…that…” he paused, attempting to gather his thoughts. “We have the ability to change so much…so how can we not take that chance? How can we not save people if we are given the power to do so?”

  He glanced at his aunt, seeing a slow, small smile grace her lips. He was astounded, having not seen a smile on her face in such a long time that the sight was unusual. “We’ve lost people too. We can’t save everyone.”

  “But we can try. That’s what these men died trying to do…in one way or another. All of them died doing what was right.” Amber shared, glancing over her shoulder at everyone that had gathered around Rick. “Even the bad guys.”

  Buddy sighed then, appearing from the side with jars in his hands. He began handing these full jars out to each person. Rick smiled. More moonshine. “Everything that’s happened has happened for a reason…at some point we need to accept and move past it.”

  “I agree.” George stated as he stood, arms crossed, studying Amber and Miles as they hovered over something in their hands before he moved to go assist Buddy. “But first, before we do that, we need to remember everything that has been lost.”

  Amber moved then towards the crosses. There was a clicking, a winding almost, as she knelt between the two crosses of Larry and Derek, their two fallen comrades. And then, she stood and Rick heard it. It was a beautifully haunting melody played from a music box and it touched each of them deep within their souls. She slowly stepped back then, her hands in her pockets, her eyes on the music box. Miles took a jar from George before the man then eased around Miles to hand Amber one as well. The music seemed to drag all the tender feelings out of everyone around them.

  “We can’t forget what they stood for…because it is what we will continue to fight for.” Amber stated before turning from the music box and looking at them all. They all turned then, some standing, some sitting, but they all moved to form a circle.

  Rick grinned into his glass for a moment and though he felt the guilt, he felt the pride more so. And so, he raised his hand and lifted his glass. “Here’s to Derek.”

  “To Kyle.” Cassie followed, lifting her glass towards the center of their circle as well.

  “Jackson.” Bobby-Jean shared, raising her glass with a trembling hand.

  Shelly lifted what Rick assumed to be a glass of water. “Elva-Jo.”

  “Brittany.” Buddy followed then, stepping a little closer to them all.

  George grinned and lifted his glass. “Larry.”

  “Damien.” Amber said softly, glancing over her shoulder at the crosses. Rick found himself nodding in approval, followed by Bobby-Jean and the others. They understood her forgiveness then, understood what the man had given up in order to help her, even after all that he had done.

  Miles was last and he looked back at the crosses as well, mirroring Amber’s actions, and Rick knew that he was considering the other man that had, against all odds and after so much evil, offered them a hope. “And Lance…who died after trying to advise us against our impending doom.”

  “To courage…” George shared then glancing at Amber who had a small smile on her face. Rick understood that they were trying to lighten the mood, at least a little.

  She lifted an eyebrow to him. “And to fear…because without it, courage would not exist.”

  Miles grinned then. “And finally…to us and every part of ourselves we lost along the way.” He stated and easily they all moved to take a drink of their relative glasses and as they did this, offered this small token of remembrance, the music box stopped playing its song. Rick knew soon, so very soon, the brand new slate that they were creating would soon be destroyed with yet more heartache. Still, until then, they had this moment. They had each other.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  One week later:

  The screams. The screams were the worst part of it all. They were what kept him up at night and created the bags under his eyes. The heart-wrenching begs for mercy were what kept him on edge and tense, frightened even. It had been two weeks since they had arrived at the compound. Two very long, very tiring weeks. He wasn’t sure where he was. Everything was all dark all the time. Before they had made it to the compound, Ryder had explained a lot, but he had also had to put a blindfold over Brian’s eyes, shielding him from seeing the compound. It was protocol, he had said, and Brian had begrudgingly accepted it. He remembered how the stopping of the truck and the creaking of a very large gate, the shouts of men giving orders and the obvious flurry of activity…he remembered how his heart had pounded so hard he thought it would burst from hearing this. His breathing was hard and heavy…though nothing ever happened. As soon as they were in and stopped, Brian heard another man tell Ryder that Brian was to be taken to the Ambrosia Chambers until further notice.

  And that was where he was; where he had been for two weeks. And the name, well…where he was, was anything but the enticing name that was implied. No, instead it seemed to be some sort of tortu
re chamber. It was one of those things that Brian thought to be impossible. It was dark where he was, and there was absolutely no light. He thought he had gone blind after the first few days, but he wasn’t sure. Still, with the darkness, he could smell the acrid scent of rust and stale water mixed with the metallic scent of blood. He could hear the occasional shift of feet, screams, the creaking of heavy metal doors. After three days, he had forced himself to ignore the horrible screams coming from other men in there with him. They kept him fed and watered, and though most of the time he was bound to the floor by his knees and his arms chained above his head, his guard (constant as he had gathered) released him occasionally to allow him to walk around and move a bit and to relieve himself. He felt like a caged animal, but that was better than having his body beaten and broken on a regular basis like before.

  He questioned where Ryder had been. Ryder had promised to ensure his safety and while Brian was still safe, at least for the moment, he was beginning to become concerned. He was nervous and anxious, having not met or done anything but be a prisoner. If he were honest, he had expected to be taken away and experimented on immediately. So, he questioned, why wasn’t he? Why hadn’t he met this infamous Adrian if, in fact, he was the prize that he had so wanted? He wasn’t sure and he knew that he wasn’t going to get an answer. One thing he felt he knew for certain was that the man was angry. He had to be.

  Ryder had explained to him how he thought things were going to go. Ryder believed that once they arrived that Brian would be sent somewhere else, the other prisoners as well, while Ryder and his men, Justin included, accepted an audience with Adrian. Ryder then explained this: Adrian was an obsessive man, and the men were anxious to please him. And so, as soon as they would enter his quarters, the men would scramble to tell him about Amber and her immunity, about the cure he had been searching for and any good mood he had would leave, chased away with anger and frustration. And he would then question his men, and Ryder explained that they would blame the two men Doug and Rich for something they had not done, and that those two men would also be sent away. Ryder believed that after hearing the news of this immunity that he would send men out to find her body and bring it back. He said that Adrian would more than likely grow angry and desperate after having lost so many men, and his immunity, that whenever he finally asked about Damien, he would take his first step from the precipice he would be on. He would snap, and possibly kill the man or woman that told him. After that, all of this done, he would wish to be alone with his anger and his pain. He would sit there and consider all that this woman had done to destroy him before destroying herself, and he would dwell on it, every day, for hours…until they returned with news of her body.