by W. A. R.
Endgame
© 2016by A. N. Ray
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty One
Chapter Thirty Two
Chapter Thirty Three
Chapter Thirty Four
Chapter Thirty Five
Chapter Thirty Six
Chapter Thirty Seven
Chapter Thirty Eight
Epilogue
Definition-Endgame:
end·game
ˈen(d)ˌɡām/
noun
the final stage of a game such as chess, when few pieces remain
Chapter One
The sound of feet slapping against the pavement was the only sound around, aside from the wind blowing and rustling the leaves of the trees that surrounded her. The soft sounds of her loyal dog Zeus running alongside her were so silent that she almost forgot that he was there. Her heart pounded against her ribs, threatening to beat right out of her chest. The distant sound of screams suddenly wrenched the air and Amber fought the urge to look back and instead surged forward, biting back a scream and refusing to break down. Her eyes searched frantically for sanctuary; a building, a car, anything to keep her safe until daylight. The moonlit road ahead of her offered nothing by way of a view of the refuge she knew had to be close and she felt the overwhelming need to cry. She had gone the right way, or so she thought, and the thick blanket of darkness that came with the night only escalated her fear and paranoia. Before things had gone bad, the town of Thurston, Arkansas had been her home. She had known everyone, and the roundabouts of the landmarks of the city. Now, however, she was six miles on the outskirts of the small town and aiming for protection in an old wooden church. She knew it was around there somewhere, she just needed to focus and find it.
The screams rose up again, and her fear spiked, sending her already alert senses higher. She needed to drown it out, which should have been relatively easy considering her blood was roaring in her ears, but whatever was left of her humanity was brought into question and she once more had to clamp down on her instinct that told her to turn around and attempt to save them. The screams belonged to what had once been her daughter’s middle school teachers, Regina and George Clausen. Amber had happened to come across them while pillaging the town. They had looked rough for wear, and Amber knew that she had to have had looked no better. Amber had mainly kept herself hidden, everyday searching for a new place, food, water, and weapons of any kind. That had went on for one week until she happened by them. She was going to find them a safe place to stay and now, they were dying at the hands of Biters while she ran free to find a new sanctuary. Returning home at this point was out of the question; it was dark, her car was lost about a mile back off of the bridge; she had to shake the Biters and lead them away from the town before going back across it to her home.
Amber saw the church she had been running for up ahead, just a few hundred yards. Relief overwhelmed her for a brief moment as she glanced at Zeus, watching him cut across the pavement to the other side of her, spotting the church as well. He ran ahead of her, slowing once he got to the closed doors. He sniffed around the door, and the air around them. Half-Boxer, half-pit, her red-nosed, brown and white dog was very loyal and protective, and in moments such as those, she was eternally grateful to him for it. Once he circled the church, he met her on the front steps, sitting and panting, waiting for Amber to open the door and lead them in. Amber stood for a moment, catching her breath, her lungs burning from lack of oxygen, and her side aching. She reached to her side, pulling a Phillips head screw driver from her belt-loop; that and the long handled knife being her only weapons until she could reach her car again in the morning. She dreaded going back there, but she needed the two guns that were safely tucked away under the front passenger’s seat. Right where George had been sitting, she grimaced to herself. Swallowing the bile that rose in her throat she readied herself for any confrontation and placed her hand on the handle. Zeus noticed her hesitation and gracefully pulled himself into position, watching her patiently. She inhaled deeply, and turned the knob, slowly pushing it open.
Amber pulled her little flashlight from her other pocket, the LED light shining brightly on a vase of discolored and disintegrating flowers. After searching the room and seeing nothing but a set of double doors across the way from her, she stepped on in and to the right, closing the door behind her and Zeus. Very lightly, as not to draw attention to any Biters outside, she whistled. Her heart-rate picked up, and she felt very light-headed. The shuffling of feet in the next room brought both her and Zeus to attention. She nodded at him while clicking her tongue and he slunk to the other side of the foyer, waiting and listening for whomever or whatever was in the room to come out. There couldn’t have been many; two, maybe three tops. If she played her cards right, she could overtake them. Glancing around one last time, she took in the two vases and small tables that the flowers had been on, a few pictures on the walls and an old coat rack. She came up with a shoddy plan, and shifting nervously on her feet, raised the flashlight to the doors as the sound of groans, creaking floorboards under the weight of a moving body, and the dragging of feet came to be right inside the doorway of the other room.
The hungry eyes of a female Biter came into view of the flashlight upon opening the door. She seemed as if she had once been young and proud, and was now nothing but an abomination. Her hair that was once brown but was now greasy, dirty with big empty spaces on her skull where it used to be. What was left of her hair was bloody tendrils, with splotchy areas on her scalp that led down to her face, which, like most other Biters, was gray, life gone from what had once been rose colored cheeks. Her teeth were decaying, yellowed and black. The skin and flesh of her cheeks sagged from deterioration and weight loss, and Amber winced at the undeniable determination in her eyes to feast on whatever creature just disturbed their miserable existence of wondering. Her sundress was barely clinging to her body with holes and tears, blood stains and intermingling flesh destroying its once simple, innocent design. Skin was missing in many places across her arms and chest, Amber saw as she turned towards the corner in which Amber stood with the flashlight that was aimed directly on her gore covered face. Amber almost felt a pang of sympathy for the woman she had once been, but she didn’t, and any thoughts of relativeness between both she and the Biter were gone once she heard her unmistakable growl. Amber glanced behind her and saw only one more Biter; a priest. His white collar reflected brightly against the light, and he wore the same hungry look that the female Biter did, the only difference being that he was not as damaged as she was. Amber noticed all of this in the 4 seconds it took from the first Biter reaching the door to the same Biter standing directly in front of her, her hands eagerly reaching for her.
Biters seemed to get excited once they saw there was food to be had; that was an undeniable
fact. Amber had once known someone that believed this excitement and the fact that they seemed bored once distraction was gone were directly linked to the humanity that they once had. Amber knew differently, and yet she still could not have saved them from dying whenever they attempted to reach out to that humanity. As much as she regretted that, she could not dwell on it, because, truth be told, there were many, many things that she regretted having done or having not done since the breakout. She was sure that she would reflect on it later, along with today, and the day before, etc. until she simply could not take it anymore. Every night, she asked herself why she thought about these incidences, and why she always thought about what she could have done differently. It was a question she had never been able to answer, aside from claiming that it kept her on alert, that by reviewing past mistakes, she could endeavor to predict certain outcomes and make better choices, and that by doing this, she would ultimately save her family and find redemption for having committed the sins that she had.
Gritting her teeth, she held back a grunt and swung her fist down as hard as she could, knowing that it would take a sufficient amount of force to drive the screwdriver through the skull. The Biter growled, almost screeching, her fleshless finger grazing Amber’s arm as the screwdriver made impact with a disgustingly loud crack. The Biter immediately went limp, and Amber stumbled with her, her hand still gripping the screwdriver. Regaining her balance, she glanced up as the priest stepped towards her tentatively, and she felt her breath quicken as she placed her left foot on the dead Biter’s face, jerking her right hand up with all of her might. The screwdriver came free, causing Amber to fall back with surprise. She hit the wall, dropping the screwdriver to catch her balance. Her heart beat became painful as she instinctively reached for her knife that was strapped to her thigh. The priest began reaching for her when Zeus began growling. This caught the priest’s attention, and he turned his attention from silent, hiding in the dark behind a flashlight Amber to growling, protective Zeus. Amber turned the light to follow the Biter as his hungry eyes found Zeus in the moonlight. Zeus was hunkered down, teeth bared, and muscles tense. She forced herself to calm down and undo the knife, and quickly. She hoped Zeus did not bark and alert others outside. Once the blade was free, she leapt over the other Biter’s body and drove the knife as hard as she could into the back of his skull.
Instantly, he and Amber both dropped to the carpeted floor and everything was once again silent. It had all happened in a matter of seconds, and yet for Amber it felt like an eternity. It always did. The flashlight flew from her hand and rolled across the floor, sending light dancing across the walls. Zeus eased up beside her and licked her neck affectionately before she eased up on her bottom and her hands. They both listened intently for signs of any other life. Zeus eased forward and sniffed around the double doors before looking at her expectantly, wagging his tail. Amber sighed, fatigue creeping its way into her mind so quickly she had to force herself to stand and finish what she had to do before it got the best of her. She and Zeus entered the next room, which was full of pews, hymnals, and Bibles, surveying the room before continuing to the restrooms, the pastor’s office, and finally the kitchen, where there was an open back door. Amber assumed that the female Biter had gotten in through there and reached the priest. She shook her head at the simplicity of it. Once she established there were no more Biters in the building, she moved some pews, the pulpit, and some tables against every door and window. It had taken about an hour, and whenever she was done, she was covered in sweat and blood from the day’s encounters, but she certainly felt a lot better about her situation and felt herself relax only a little. It was only a little that she allowed herself.
She scavenged the building for any tools, weapons, food, and warmth. Amongst everything, she found a black backpack in the priest’s office, full of notes, a journal, and a crucifix. It saddened Amber a little while she was cleaning it out that the priest had obviously never planned to leave, and his lack of weapons or defense suggested he was also one of the few that had seen them as sick people instead of the evil, senseless beings that they were. Sighing, she realized that she and her family had not really left either. She was merely on a run for more provisions, the most of which were in her totaled car. She knew she had to leave at daybreak to retrieve her weapons and provisions before someone else came and took them. Granted, the only other ones she had come across were Regina and George, but she could not strike out the possibility. She took the bag to the kitchen and knelt in front of the bottom cabinets, flashlight in mouth and Zeus at her back watching as she rummaged through them. She found almost twenty cans of food, ranging from green beans and corn to chili and corn beef hash. She then searched the top cupboards and found some granola bars and sugar. Finally, she turned to the fridge and found some bottled water. She stuffed all of this into her backpack, searching the restrooms for toilet paper and scent free soap, anti-bacterial hand wash, or medicines. She finally grabbed a few hymnals and, Zeus at her heels, climbed down into the baptismal tank to light a fire away from the view of windows. She had grabbed a few tablecloths and choir robes she had found and placed them on either side of the tank. Zeus wagged his tail and walked slowly over to the opposite side of Amber before lying down, resting his snout on his paws. He watched as Amber took a lighter from her pocket and tore a few pages from the hymnals.
The fire was nice and warm, albeit having to add a few pages here and there. She had given Zeus and herself a granola bar, as she did not have a can opener. They then both lay there, Amber on her back, her fingers intertwined behind her head as she stared at the dark empty space above her. A tear found its way across her cheek, her emotions torn apart and her body beyond exhausted. Two good people had died that day, and she had simply left them.
Amber had been in the J & E feed store when she had come across George Clausen. She had been slowly stepping about in the early morning hours, her over the shoulder bag empty and hanging to her side as she gripped her 9mm pistol with both hands, her heavy, yet comfortable, brown boots sidestepping every discarded item in her path. Almost everything was gone, Amber had noticed as she wondered the aisles, looking for both supplies and Biters. She was beginning to get irritated at the lack of supplies whenever she rounded one aisle and saw at the back of another a shelf with some tools on one side and sweet feed on the other. Amber felt as if she had finally caught a break. It wasn’t as if she and her family were struggling; as fate would have it, they were really well beyond their means and had plenty to live on for a while. That, however, didn’t mean that they hadn’t needed to go out. On the contrary, they needed to keep up their strength and awareness. It helped that they gathered more and more supplies whenever they did as well.
She released a heavy sigh of relief and advanced forward, her mind running a mile a minute. Her car was big enough to carry a few 40 pound bags of sweet feed, and plenty of tools; the strong, metal ones came in handy. Hammers and screwdrivers were sharp and strong enough to kill a Biter in hand to hand combat, if enough strength was put behind the swing. Many people overlooked them as weapons, searching instead for guns and knives whenever the outbreak began. The sweet feed was definitely not for her or her family, but for the deer that surrounded their house in the woods. This would, or could rather, bring the deer to one place close enough for her to kill with her compound bow (minimizing the need for the loud noise of a gunshot); not to mention plumping them up for the dinner table. Amber figured that although the Biters occasionally sauntered out into the woods, she could sit in the deer stand and take one out if need be while she was hunting for some venison. She also had a blind behind her stand that was once a hotspot for deer activity, but going out to sit on the ground, in a blind or not, was far too risky.
She sauntered over to the shelf calculating exactly how many trips she could make to her car before getting noticed by the Biters that roamed over the city when she heard the crunch of glass under weight. Immediately she stood upright, her pistol aimed at George’
s once handsome face. He also had a rifle aimed at her.
“Don’t move. I will shoot you.” He had said shakily, as if unsure of his own words. Amber immediately knew who he was, recognizing his harsh voice as something that had been much gentler the last time she had heard it, telling her that her daughter was far too intelligent for her own good. And yet still, the wild recklessness in his eyes called to her and he appeared to be a stranger. She decided he still had not recognized who she was and peered around her gun, eyebrows furrowed in worry.
“George? Are you ok?” she asked, concern dripping from her words. Her heart pounded as she glanced at the barrel of the gun that he held pointed at her face. He shook his gun at her, and Amber took a step to the side behind another shelf that rose to her chest. She did this in a vain attempt to block him. Her nerves drew taut. The first outside human she had come across had to be a friend, a friend that was on the verge of insanity, if not already there. She studied his darkened features, noting the hardness that glinted in his eye and the sneer that curled his upper lip. The way of the world clearly left its mark on him and she needed to rid him of that to hopefully make it out of the store alive.
“I said don’t move!” he shouted at her, and she bravely took her eyes off of him and glanced around her at the big bay windows that surrounded the front of the store. Only one or two Biters were in view and they had not noticed his shouts. Amber breathed a sigh of relief before turning back to George. He stood in the shadows, and wore a white shirt and a pair of jeans. The shirt was covered in filth; blood, dirt, and sweat covering it, as well as the jeans. His hands trembled on the gun, his knuckles white from holding it so tightly. Peering closer, she could see the fear in his eyes, and a huge gash on his forehead oozed blood across his temple and cheek. Amber decided to take a chance and released her iron grip on her gun, letting it dangle from her finger as she raised her hands in the air, palms facing him. Instantly, she saw his grip relax a little. He still held the gun, blinking his eyes furiously, as if unbelieving of what he was witnessing.