Endgame (Book 1)

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Endgame (Book 1) Page 18

by W. A. R.


  “Yes ma’am. You are right…as usua…” The sudden sound of the back door slamming made them tense, cutting Amber off midsentence. Amber cut her eyes to Shelly in curiosity, as did Shelly to Amber. She wasn’t sure why the sound struck her as odd, but it did. Shelly’s surprise didn’t help lower suspicions either. “What door did they go out of?” Amber asked doubtfully, and Shelly nodded her head towards the front door. Footsteps, at least two sets, sounded through the house as Amber and Shelly quickly drew their guns, aiming it at the hallway’s entrance in front of them. The men would have come back in through the same door they went out of so they wouldn’t cause confusion. Amber stepped into a defensive stance, ready for battle. Two silhouettes appeared before them in the dim light and Amber felt her heart skip a beat. Choked sobs and sharp intakes of air reverberated through Amber’s very being.

  “Don’t you dare fucking move.” Shelly spat out, and Amber glanced at her, slightly impressed, before reaching onto the coffee table and grabbing her small flashlight. Clicking the end of it where the power button was located, bright white LED light filled the room, focusing on the pair standing frozen in the kitchen.

  “Oh shit.” Amber breathed at the sight before her. She felt the rest of the world fall out of focus.

  “Oh my God.” Shelly murmured, shocked.

  Before them stood a woman choking on sobs, blood covering her arm and leg and sweat drenching her hair and her face. Her face was screwed up in anguish. She wore a black shirt, and jeans, both articles of clothing torn to shreds. The blood on her arm stemmed from a huge bite mark on her left bicep. Her hands rested on the shoulders of a little boy. He couldn’t have been any more than six. His face was filthy and also covered with sweat. Fear smothered his every other feature, and Amber felt her heart ache.

  “Please, please help us…” the woman begged, her accent thick and her voice trembling. Amber looked at Shelly quickly before taking a step towards the pair and kneeling down. She reached behind her, shoving the barrel of her gun into the waistband of her jeans and focused on the small child. His brown eyes were deep and intrusive, and she instantly missed her own two children.

  “Can you tell me how old you are?” Amber asked calmly, and the mother began speaking rapid fire Spanish to Shelly. Shelly shook her head, not understanding.

  “No hablo español.” Shelly replied, as calmly as possible. Amber and the boy stared at one another for a long moment as he studied her. She cleared her throat, hoping to try another tactic. They had to get some answers out of them before the men came back or it would be hell trying to explain anything to them, especially since the mother had been bitten.

  “My name is Amber and I am 33 years old. How about you?” she tried, and he shifted a little, turning his head and peeking at her from under his long brown hair.

  “My name is Elliot and I am five….where is my daddy?” he mumbled to her before looking up at his mother who was once again crying hysterically. Amber stood and looked at the woman. The woman kept looking at Shelly, whose gun was still raised. How had they gotten themselves into this mess?

  “Ma’am?” the woman looked at Amber anxiously, not saying a word, and Amber quickly motioned Shelly to come closer. She studied the woman, watching how her eyes roamed over Amber’s bruised face, the tender and still slightly bloodied spot on her head from the crash.

  “I think she wants to talk to you.” Amber said, and the woman nodded viciously, understanding what Amber had suggested. Shelly’s eyes widened, and she quickly recovered.

  “Any particular reason why? I don’t speak Spanish.” She quipped and Amber swallowed hard against the emotion caught in her chest. Memories floated past her foggy mind at the sight of this dying woman. Memories she tried desperately to suppress.

  “I don’t either,” Amber began, looking at the woman. “I think she understands what we are saying and can speak some; she just…needs to calm down.” She directed this at the woman who nodded, choking on another sob. Amber turned back to Shelly calmly. “Besides, you are not nearly as rough looking as I am right now.”

  Shelly sighed before speaking, knowing that Amber was right. “What is your name?” she asked the woman slowly.

  The woman shook with fear, looking uncertainly between the two women before speaking.

  “S…Selene.” She replied, her voice quivering and accent even more potent. Shelly cut a glance at Amber curiously before turning back to the woman.

  “Selene?”

  “¡Sí, Sí!” the woman exclaimed. “Yes!” she wobbled. Amber and Shelly each shared a compassionate look before each searching for water and chairs for them to sit. Shelly ushered them calmly to the couch, while Amber handed each of them a bottle of water. The woman hobbled and stumbled on her bloodied leg, making Amber nervous. The woman had been bitten at least once, and she knew that there was no saving her. She just knew it. They drank greedily while Amber and Shelly surveyed the house around them, making sure no one else had come in. Her nerves stretched taut and her senses were on high alert. Her hand trembled slightly against her will.

  Shelly frowned once they had settled in comfortably, ready to get down to business. “Where is the boy’s father? Are there any others with you?” Shelly asked the woman, whose eyes filled with new tears. Amber watched as the woman attempted to formulate the words past her hysteria and it saddened Amber.

  “Randel…my husband…he is dead.” She choked out before breaking down again. Amber felt her heart wrench in two. “W…we are…a…lone…” she sobbed, gripping the boy’s shoulders tightly. Amber saw him wince at the pressure his mother was putting on his shoulders.

  “What happened?” Amber asked her, and the woman broke down into hysterics once again. Amber sighed. At that rate, they weren’t getting anywhere. After a moment of sobbing, she controlled herself enough to give an answer.

  “The…t…town….the m…monsters took m…my…sister…and my…mother.” she began sobbing harder, making it more difficult to understand her. “Please, h...” she hiccupped on a cry, “help us. Randel…he shot some when we r…ran out of t…town. They were f…fast; I was so s…slow...” Amber sighed in empathy, racking her brain for some form of assistance to the woman when she spoke again. “The m…m…monsters got him…a…f…few…m…miles back….they f…followed…us…h…here.” Amber felt everything inside her freeze as she locked eyes with Shelly. The monsters followed them; the Biters were close, if not already here. Amber felt her stomach sink.

  “How many monsters?” Shelly asked patiently, although she was feeling everything but patient. The woman looked between Amber and Shelly sadly. Amber felt like shaking the woman until she offered them a reasonable answer.

  “I’m sorry.” She exerted through her rich voice. She began shrieking and crying, panicking. Amber swallowed hard and looked at Shelly. It wasn’t the nightmare she wished it to be; no, it was far too real. She stood firm, feeling the tension emanating from Amber and stared hard down at the woman.

  “How many?” Shelly demanded, her voice low and to the point. The woman lowered her head into her hands, the boy watched her every action,

  “Too many. I…I…do not remember.” Emotion and adrenaline ran through them, hitting them so fast and so hard it left them momentarily breathless. They needed to warn the guys. They turned, just as the front door slammed opened, causing Amber and Shelly to stumble back, and aim their guns at the Miles, Brian, and George. They were out of breath and their eyes wild. Amber and Shelly lowered their guns, and the woman now stood, her son pushed behind her for protection. Amber stepped back slightly, alongside Shelly, positioning themselves firmly between the men and the wounded stranger and her son.

  “What the fuck is goin on?!” Brian exclaimed, rushing to gather his weapons and spying the boy and woman. Surprise befell his face before he hurriedly gathered his wits. He glanced at Shelly and scanned her face. She told him with no words that the woman and child were no threat to them. He stepped past her then, his focus on one mis
sion. “Shelly, grab your stuff. Hurry!”

  Miles reached past Amber and grabbed her flashlight from the coffee table where she had placed it. “We have to go now.” He demanded of her, leaving no room for argument. “There is a whole fucking herd of Biters coming this way and fast…”

  “We know.” Amber said softly, locking eyes with Miles. Confusion and anxiety filled his eyes in ignorance. She mentally pleaded with him to listen to her, to understand. “They followed them.” Miles followed her gaze as she turned around to the pair behind her and grunted in annoyance at the boy and woman before turning back to Amber.

  “Who in the hell are they?” he asked her, reaching around her to gather more tools.

  “I don’t fucking know! They just showed up! The herd followed them for miles!” Amber explained to him as he tried to gather whatever weapons he could get his hands on. “I know we don’t have much time but they need our help. Bring them with us.” She pleaded and Miles turned quickly to the woman who began speaking in her rich accent.

  “Please señors, help us….” The woman begged the men, twisting her fingers together painfully, “We just needed help, w…we had….n…no choice.” She gulped in big breaths of air. Amber’s heart ached for her and she immediately reached out for the woman, wishing to drag the stranger and the boy with her to the safety of their trucks. Miles quickly reached up and slapped his fingers around her wrist, surprising her.

  “What have you done?” Brian exclaimed at the woman, causing her to break down even more so. Amber turned to glare at him, Miles refusing to release her. George looked around Brian at the woman.

  “She didn’t mean to! They were trying to live and the Biters heard the shots! It was an accident.” Shelly defended the woman, stepping around in front of Brian. Amber saw anger and worry stretch across his face and it frightened her. The intensity with which his anger and fear lashed out she had only seen once when one of their cousins had died. She shuddered just thinking about the fleeting memory.

  “Well, her accident is about to cost us our lives. Get the keys.” He ordered Shelly, who stood there staring at him, dumbstruck by his lack of compassion. Amber tried to jerk from Miles as George spoke.

  “She’s been bitten….” George said, grabbing the shotgun from the coffee table and rushing towards the back door and into the darkness and Biters. “The best we can offer her is a bullet to the brain.” Brian’s eyes widened at the awareness of the woman’s infected person and Amber felt tears sting her eyes at George’s crude statement. What had happened to these men? Didn’t they care?

  “What is wrong with you?” she hollered at him, he turned and marched back into the living room, looking at her squarely in the eye. His tender thoughtfulness was still in his green eyes, hidden beneath anxiety and fear, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

  “We don’t have time for bullshit. Gather your stuff.” He growled at her before turning back towards the back door. She stared after him, suddenly worried for his safety.

  “George, where are you going?” Brian and Amber shouted hurriedly before the back door slammed. Worry encased Amber. She began to holler at him to stop and rush after him but Miles interrupted her thoughts, directing his statement to the woman.

  “You are infected. We cannot take you, but we can save the boy. Your call.” He said as Shelly snapped out of her astonished stupor and sprang into action, quickly grabbing both sets of keys from the counter, and tossing one set to Miles and the other to Brian. The woman cried harder, if that were at all possible, and gripped the boy to her with all that she had.

  “No…I c…cannot…leave h…him w…with y…ou.” she said, and she watched the fear grow on the boy’s face as he struggled to pull from his mother. Amber’s eyes widened in disbelief.

  “He’ll die here!” she turned to Miles, expecting him to agree with her. “Bring her with us.” Miles looked away from her and watched as the woman stumbled. He stepped forward and put a hand to her forehead. He grimaced.

  “There is no time.” He looked at the boy and then at the woman. “If that is your decision…”

  ‘Let’s move!” Brian bellowed and Amber jerked her stare to Miles. With all her might she jerked from his hold and shoved him back, stepping forward to reach for the child, who struggled against his mother’s hold, reaching for Amber. The boy cried, wanting to be free; wanting to be safe.

  “We can’t leave him here!” Miles quickly cut off her exclamation, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the door behind Brian, who was dragging Shelly out. Moans filled the air and Amber felt her anxiety heighten. The child couldn’t die! Her mind screamed. Everything else blurred in her vision and all she could see was her own children being presented to Death as a gift; so willing and young. She struggled against Miles, her free arm reaching for the child. “We can’t just leave them!” she exclaimed, tears stinging the back of her eyes. He struggled with her down the stairs and when they hit the ground, it became even harder. With each passing second every bit of her anger towards him was coming to surface. His grip tightened as he drug her towards the truck. Amber felt her defense practices, her sparring, come into play as despair roared in her veins. Amber grit her teeth together tightly and straightened her knees before brought her fist around to hit him, punching him squarely in the chest. He grunted and his grip loosened and she struggled free, falling to her knees easily so as not to be jerked down, and scrambling to the house. Miles quickly leaned down and gripped her braid, jerking her back to him before she could get too far.

  “No!” she cried, hearing Brian and Shelly shut the doors to the other truck. Miles wove his fingers into her hair, pulling. She shrieked at the pain emanating from her already tender head. It hurt and she clawed at his hand, his fingers that gripped her hair. “Zeus!” she called pitifully, hoping the dog would sense her pain and launch into defense mode. She watched as the dog fell into a trot next to Miles. Miles refused to look at her.

  “Zeus and I reached an agreement with no uncertain terms regarding you.” He told her and she felt helpless. Shelly watched as Amber struggled desperately against Miles.

  “Brian, we can’t just sit here and let this happen! We are better than that!” Shelly exclaimed, tears flowing as she began reaching for the door handle. Brian quickly grabbed her and shoved her into the floorboard, causing her to receive a mouth full of dirt. She began coughing through her tears, struggling angrily against Brian.

  “Shut up and be still. I’m sorry, but I cannot lose you.” He said sternly, feeling Shelly shudder with cries.

  “He is just a child, Miles! Please!” Amber begged, stumbling and struggling to pull away and at the same time maintain balance. “There is time!” she squealed before Miles opened the door and threw her inside, hitting her leg on the steering wheel. Zeus jumped in and sat on the seat next to her. Pain radiated up her hip from the impact.

  “No there isn’t.” he growled at her. He pointed to the house angrily. “She has maybe fifteen minutes left before she is one of them! I cannot and will not have her in this truck!” She sat crouched the floorboard and stared at him pleadingly and yet furiously. When he didn’t waver, her desperation went deeper.

  “Miles, he is a little boy…and what about George? We have to find him before it is too late.”

  He glowered at her. “Amber,” he began leaning into the truck and talking in a low whisper, “You are my priority, not some strangers that brought destruction on us; that is her son and it is her decision to make, not mine! And George is a big boy. He can handle whatever it is he is doing.” She stared at him in shock and disappointment. She saw regret flash across his eyes.

  “You aren’t even going to try?” she asked him, emotion filling every word. Miles looked at her, determined and resilient.

  “If it involves risking your life? No.” he said firmly, staring hard at her.

  “Why in the hell do you care what happens to me now?” she exclaimed bitingly, and he appeared as if he had been slapped before removing his knif
e suddenly at stabbing a Biter that had appeared beside him. Amber started, and, seeing an opportunity, she went for it. She jumped into the seat as quickly as she could.

  “Fine,” she bit out angrily, angling for the passenger side door handle. Her hand brushed against the handle and she felt her heart pick up its pace. “I’ll get them my damn self.” She mumbled before she felt the truck move and her body jerk back against the seat. A Biter slammed against the window of the passenger’s door, staring at her and snapping its jaws against the window.

  “No, you aren’t. You are going to stay right fucking here where you are safe.” She turned to look at him and saw the torment that was hiding in his eyes.

  “Please, please, please…you aren’t this person. You can’t just do this….” She tried weakly in a final attempt. She was begging, pleading for him to be the man that she knew he used to be, the man that she knew he still was.

  “I can do whatever I like. Now shut the hell up and be still.” He told her forcefully, reaching behind the seat and grabbing something and shoving it in his pocket. She glared at him as more tears fell.

  “What happened to you?” she said through clenched teeth, her fingers aching from gripping the seat cushion. He stared at her for a moment, and she saw his willpower quickly give in and he handed her the flashlight and keys, removing his guns from their holsters, having made up his mind.

  “I’m going to find George. Stay right here.” He demanded, closing the door and disappearing into the darkness. Amber felt time stop. She was completely alone in the darkness of the truck and she selfishly wanted him back in the truck with her. She sat in the silence, contemplating everything that had just happened. It had all happened so quickly. She tried to gather her thoughts. The family had run down here from…Thurston...and Biters had followed them. So many Biters…How had they not heard the crying in the silence? How had they not heard the gunshots in the distance? Were they all just inside the house or so immersed with themselves and their tasks that they didn’t hear it? There had to have been noise for so many Biters to follow. Amber didn’t know, and she began to scream inside her mind. The mother and son had shown up, out of every house they could have run in to, they ran into that one. No, Amber realized, the woman knew that they would have died in any house they ran into. So she ran and ran until she saw some form of life and saw a miracle. She expected them to help her and her son. Amber suddenly felt sick at their actions, no matter how right they had been. Is this the world for her own children? The corruption and brutal picking of survival… Everything had suddenly become chaotic and it all simply blended and blurred together. Everything was so good; they were catching a break and now this?

 

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