Endgame (Book 2): Alekhine's Gun

by W. A. R.

  Brian could only hope that things went that way.

  He didn’t want Amber to come to them, since, of course, that would be putting her in the line of fire. All Adrian would need, it seemed, is one slight thought, one brief assumption that she was the woman that had torn him into pieces and then began shredding those pieces. She would be a mouse in the trap, a pawn in Adrian’s great big game of chess, the end to all that was real. Brian hated that he could do nothing to help her, to keep her from going through everything that she was going to go through, but he knew that there was no stopping her anyways. She would, regardless, go on to fight for what she thought was right and for those she cared about. She may have been crass at times, but she was by far the most compassionate person he knew. His only saving grace, as far as her safety went, was that Miles would be with her. They would protect each other and they would get him out of there. He knew that they would and in the meantime, he would do whatever he could to help them make it out alive as well. He had to. It didn’t hurt that there were a handful of people on their side and on the inside already. At least, that was he was told.

  The sudden sound of the door creaking open caught his attention and he turned his ear to the sound of heavy and hurried footsteps heading his way. He was suddenly released from his attachment to the ceiling, and within seconds his legs were free. He was jerked to his feet and he knew immediately by the hold on his arm as he positioned his bound wrists in front of him, who it was that was leading him away. The heavy rock that had settled in the pit of his stomach felt heavier and he gulped. He wouldn’t ask where they were going or what they were doing…he couldn’t. Doing so would show a weakness he didn’t want to show, and so, instead, he kept his mouth clamped shut. Ryder shoved him forward, though keeping his hold on him, urging him to walk faster. They walked through the stench of feces and vomit, of blood and water, for a few minutes, the heels of boots pounding against metal while Brian’s bare feet slapped noisily against it.

  “You alright?” Ryder finally asked in low whisper and Brian knew that his friend was continuously looking around them for anyone within hearing distance.

  “I’m better now. Where have you been?” Brian asked roughly, trying to be just as silent as Ryder was.

  Ryder shifted his hold to Brian’s elbow and a sudden breeze hit Brian with a gentle force. “I’ve been on a special assignment to retrieve Amber’ s body.” Oh damn. Brian found it hard to breathe. “You’ve been locked down there alone because we didn’t want you around other prisoners.” And by ‘we’ he knew Ryder meant Adrian. “At least not until we got an answer.”

  “What answer? What’s going to happen?” Brian asked, inhaling the scent of fall air like a drug.

  Ryder steered him to the right, turning left after that. Ryder was in a hurry, Brian realized, and his breathing was heavy. “We couldn’t find her body. They are going to take some blood samples from you soon. Could be two days, could be two weeks.”

  Brian gulped. “Are they going to turn me?”

  “No, no…not until they have no choice. They will check out everything about you first. Skin, blood, tissue, personality, DNA, genetics…everything.” Ryder told him before stopping, his grip tightening on Brian’s elbow. Brian immediately shut up. “What?”

  “Get him put away and come back to Adrian’s quarters.” This new man stated roughly, demanding of Ryder’s attention. “He wants to speak to you about the new ones you and your….”

  “Yeah, yeah…I get it. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Ryder stated before jerking Brian forward with him. Ryder was panicked, it seemed, and that thought bothered him immensely.

  “What’s going on?” Brian asked lowly before a loud clicking was heard from a door shutting behind them. They were in another building. At least this one didn’t smell as bad. Ryder steered him around turned left and right before finally shoving him into a chair and jerking his blindfold off. The light blinded him momentarily and he squinted against it, trying his best to adjust. He was in, what appeared to be, a closed off section of a hospital…maybe. He wasn’t sure…it was all so blurry. All he could see was a cot-like bed and the chair he was in, one glass door and a large glass window. He assumed that they were not, by any means, just glass. That would be too easy. Ryder stared down at him angrily, put on the act that he desperately needed to.

  “This is where you will be staying for the rest of your time here. Make yourself comfortable. Myself and two other guards are on duty for you, swapping shifts. The other guards, I hate to say, are Justin and then there’s Jamie. I will do what I can to stay on top of all of this; however, he is not allowed to mistreat you in any way. There will be people in this building watching.”

  “Alright…” Brian said nervously, his voice trembling just the slightest. He could admit that he was scared. These people could turn him into a blood-thirsty monster in no time. He just hoped they postponed it as long as possible. “You sound…”

  “I’ve got to go.” Ryder stated then, completely cutting Brian off. He then knelt down and leveled his eyes to fill Brian’s blurry vision. He clamped a hand down on his shoulder and spoke so lowly that even Brian almost didn’t hear him. “There are people watching so watch yourself. Stay calm.”

  “What’s wrong? You sound concerned.”

  Ryder sighed and Brian knew that he wasn’t going to like the answer. “Something went wrong with your sister.” And as Brian’s heart dropped from the lack of explanation, Ryder straightened. He couldn’t breathe. What was wrong? Was she hurt? Discovered? He gulped and opened his mouth to speak but Ryder didn’t give him that chance. “Jamie will be on watch until I return. Justin and I have a meeting to attend to. I will alert you of my presence when I am through.”

  And with that, Ryder turned stalked out the room with a pace that left Brian feeling terrified. Terrified and angry. He leapt from his chair then, and rushed at the glass door as it closed, ramming his shoulder against it. Pain radiated down his pain and he cried out, tears filling his eyes. No, no…. if they were gone, if something was that wrong, then that meant they had all reached their end. He would never see them, never see Shelly. He fell to the floor in a crumpled heap, leaning against the door. His world began to slowly fall apart.

  Earlier that same day:

  Miles stepped slowly into her room, the bright hues of sunlight trickling in through the window. His hand rested on the doorknob as he eased the door open and took a step in, his watchful eyes taking in her peaceful form bundle beneath the covers. He grinned widely and slowly finished going in, closing and locking the door behind him. He kept his eyes on her as his bare feet slid across the plush carpet. He was quiet, not wishing to rouse her so suddenly. No, he had done this most mornings and had gotten used to sidestepping her boots and weapons, her filthy clothes and had perfected the art of not waking her until he was already in the bed beside her. It wasn’t ideal, he knew, how their arrangements were. Every night after a day of intense training, both mentally and physically, he would shower, and then she would, and then came the tending of their wounds. After this, he would bid her goodnight with a gentle kiss to the back of her hand and he would leave her at her door to retreat to his own room.

  It wasn’t because he necessarily wanted to. In fact, he would love nothing more than to go to bed to her every night, to feel those lips of hers against his any time he wanted…but not yet. Things had been rough, and though they had found their way back to one another, he understood that he needed to take things slow. It was what he wanted; he wanted to do things right…he wanted this to last as long as the cruel world would allow it. That and she was…distant. She was harboring something that she refused to discuss and he didn’t want to push the issue, and push her away fully. And so, he would disappear to his room every night because he knew that if he were to stay with her, it wouldn’t take too long for his willpower to cave and all his patient progress would be shattered under the illusion of passion and lust…not that that enticing thought didn’t cross hi
s mind…often. They were captivated by one another, that he knew. They would watch one another fight, deal with others; the small kindnesses fascinated them even that they offered other members of the community. He couldn’t help falling in love with her all over again.

  While these thoughts circulated through his mind, he crept into her room, walking softly on the pads of his feet to keep any sound from being made. His heart was calling to her as it always did, and he couldn’t tear his eyes from the vision of her tangled in the sheets, a peaceful and blissful expression on her face. She hadn’t had nightmares, he thought, and was surprised that she had actually slept the night through; or well, he thought the night…they had trained until they could no longer move in the wee hours of the morning. And then they had crashed. Still, as he lifted the covers and slid between the sheets to join her, he thought he had never witnessed anything so beautiful. He had that thought often as well.

  It was easy, how he maneuvered himself against her, sliding his arm under her head. It was easy how she shifted, laying her cheek against his chest where his heartbeat could be felt and heard. It was so damn surprisingly easy how she continued to weasel her way deeper and deeper into his very being until she consumed him…and he loved every minute of it. He tightened his hold on her and buried his face in her short hair, breathing in against her neck, inhaling the scent of her. His eyes were closed by then, and he laid there, one hand on her hip, the other wrapped around her shoulders, and he relished in the moment. Her hair tickled his nose as her warm breath filtered through his shirt, warming his chest. He felt her arms tighten around him as well, her fingers clutching at his back, gripping at his shirt. The smell of her shampoo permeated his senses and his fingers brushed against the hem of her shirt and the skin of her back.

  He didn’t have to open his eyes to see what she looked like. No, that peaceful image was etched into his memory forever. There was nothing about it that could ever be taken away. He marveled at the position that they were in. They had finally come together, the taste of her lips still on his tongue. Oh, but he had missed that so terribly much. And though it had been so long without her before, it was as if no time had passed, the feel of her lips and body moving against his was just as potent as he remembered, if not even more so. He could die a happy man then, knowing that she had officially, in his mind, come to him and that she was his. He knew that if the circumstances were different, he would have gotten her flowers and taken her out somewhere nice. Maybe one day he could still accomplish that. His body trembled as she moved then, her feet tangling with his, her leg brushing against his. He clenched his jaw, unsure of what to do or say. Why was it that this woman always made him so nervous? Not that she could ever tell. Still, he had waited for this moment for so very long that he almost thought he was dreaming. Was she really back in his arms without the accompanying nightmare? Yes, he smiled, yes she was.

  He considered then the past month and a half. They had been pulled apart, torn into shreds by circumstance and the inability to open one’s self. They had both been so closed off, her because of her insecurities and him because he because of uncertainty. He had thought before, before he found her again in the wake of the outbreak, that he had cared for her, that he would do anything for her, but he realized the truth then. That had been only a taste of the adoration he had for her. After having her in his grasp after so many years only to lose her again…it was his undoing and he knew that then, understood it. There was no sweeter feeling in his life than for the desperation he had so adequately felt while she was losing her mind to be washed away by just one simple look, one meaningful phrase, one lingering kiss…The desperation was gone and he felt nothing but completion in its place.

  The sudden feeling of eyelashes brushing against his neck pulled him from his reverie and he slowly opened his eyes. The early afternoon sun assaulted his senses and he squinted, wishing to rid his sight of the bright sunlight. His hold on her never loosened; he didn’t want to let go of her…not then, not after everything. He could admit that yes, he was a little frightened of losing her again, and yet, not so much so. He admired her strength, and though he was clearly overprotective of her, he knew that he was wrong to be. They were equals and her stubbornness had always made him smile. Watching her two weeks before as they worked together to take down the Biters and the enemy, he had never been so impressed. His eyes had lit up and he felt his pulse race with fascination. And he thought he loved her then. Still, she was clearly capable of taking care of herself, and he realized he had let his desperate emotions get the best of him. He would die protecting her should that come to it, and he would do so with a smile on his face.

  “What time is it?” she asked roughly then, her body shifting away from him, as she had done every morning since Lance had come along. He frowned. She didn’t want to be near him, near anyone as of late. “I hadn’t slept that well since I was drugged.”

  Miles chuckled even more so at her retort. He ran a hand along her back, tenderly kissing her hair. It felt so euphoric to have her against him, to have her allowing him to caress her the way that he did. That easiness that they had settled into was enough to drive him mad…in a good way. “Judging by how bright it is, I’d say it’s…”

  “Mid-afternoon and you guys have been sleeping all day!” Rusty suddenly bellowed from the doorway. Miles immediately jerked back, reaching for the guns that were no longer on his hips, eyes wide and alert, as did Amber, who instinctively reached for the swords that were no longer on her back but beside the door where Rusty stood. Miles was shielding Amber without realizing it, only coming to his senses when she placed one hand on his shoulder, urging him to lower his arm so she could see around him. Amber’s hair was disheveled and her cheeks rosy against her pale complexion. Her lips were full and swollen from his kisses from hours before, from when he had left her at her door for the night, and he felt the small tug of male pride that came with the sight. Rusty, however, stood at the door, smiling like a child.

  “That is a damn good way to get shot.” Miles grumbled, relaxing then and moving back to lean against the headboard while sitting with his legs stretched out before him. Rusty smirked and stepped into the room. Amber grimaced.

  “I thought I locked the door.” Miles grumbled and Amber looked between the two men curiously.

  “Yeah…How did you get in here?” she asked before running a hand down her face and the other hand through her hair. Her cheeks flamed then as she caught a glimpse of Miles’s grin as he watched her. She quickly turned and slung her legs over the side of the bed, going to stand. She was nervous, reality smacking her in the face. He hated that and he wished they could stay comfortable with one another. He sighed. They would in time. She stood slowly and with less fervor than she had moved before and soon Miles understood why. A red stain came through her white bandage just below the hem of her shorts and she had to limp slightly to her dresser. The wound was slowly getting better.

  “Okay, first of all, how are you going to shoot me when your guns are in your room?” Rusty asked and he turned his eyes to where Amber stood. He frowned.

  “It won’t happen again. Trust me.” Miles growled before making a move and mirroring Amber’s movements, slinging his legs over the side of the bed. Rusty, while good-hearted, was quite meddlesome and strangely enough reminded him of his younger self with his antics. He ran a hand along his face, rubbing slightly at his tired eyes as Rusty turned towards Amber.

  “Secondly…you did lock the door.” She turned and looked at him, lifting a brow in expectation. Rusty grinned. “I’m a ninja.” She rolled her eyes and turned to pull some jeans and a t-shirt from her drawer. Miles, however, stood, lifting his hands above his head and stretching before moving to the nightstand, grabbing up the clean bandages that he had set there the night before along with peroxide, a rag, and some of Doc’s cream. She threw the clothes on the bed and sighed before lowering herself to sit on the edge. She began unwrapping the bandage.

  “You are far from a n
inja, Rusty.” She paused briefly, grimacing at the bandage pulled at the dried blood against her skin. She had to peel it off. Miles slowly moved toward her and without a word, lowered to one knee, placing the items he held in his hands on the bed on either side of her. She tossed him a curious look before he quickly shook his head at her in response to her unspoken question. She tried to pull from him once again but he didn’t let it happen. Why was she pushing him away? She turned back to Rusty as she tossed the soiled bandage to the side. “What are you doing up here so early anyways?”

  He looked at her, almost offended. “It’s mid-afternoon.”

  She and Miles both turned toward the window and the orange light filtering in. He was surprised that neither of them had noticed it before, but then again, they had been caught up with the rare time alone, the five minutes if they were lucky, that they got to spend with one another. “You’re serious.”

  “Yes, I’m serious. Did you think I was lying?” He said challengingly before going silent for a moment. Miles, however, turned his focus to Amber, who had picked up the peroxide and the rag from beside her. Quickly, he pulled it from her hands and opened the lid. She tensed then as he slid one hand holding the rag under her knee, holding the rag where he needed it while also holding her still. For a split second, he thought she was going to argue with him, to fight him on tending to this wound. After a brief moment of tension from the contact, however, she relented. He sighed in relief.