Endgame (Book 1)

by W. A. R.

  The back door suddenly slammed open, startling both Miles and Katie. Katie slammed the scissors down onto the table and brought her other hand to her chest, gasping in surprise. Miles stared wide eyed at the back door as it shut. Amber stood with one hand on the handle while the other held a small bucket of water. She looked between the two of them, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Miles smiled at her, rubbing his palms against his knees. They had barely spoken a word to one another since that morning, and he felt the need to apologize for his behavior towards her and…he was worried. He wanted to know what had happened to her.

  “I grabbed some water so you can clean your face. Did I interrupt something?” she grinned weakly at the two of them, walking to set the water down on the table next to the things that Katie had gathered. The smile left Miles’s face and he turned to look at her incredulously at what she was implying but she had turned her focus to Katie. Her eyes were stern but full of sympathy. “You look exhausted. When was the last time you had sleep?” Amber asked the woman before walking around her and opening a drawer directly in front of Miles.

  Katie twisted her fingers together nervously. “I have had a few hours here and there.” She replied vaguely and Amber turned to her, closing the drawer and leaning against the counter, a clean piece of cloth in hand.

  “Why don’t you go rest? I can handle this. If there is anything serious I’ll holler for you.” She told Katie who immediately looked relieved. Amber smiled warmly at the woman, and caught herself hoping that things between the two groups worked out. It could only serve in making them stronger, she thought. She watched as Katie exited the room, leaving the two of them alone. A few seconds ticked by as Amber made sure they were alone, walking to check the entryway. Relief washed over her and she turned back to Miles, who stared after her apprehensively. Her heart weighed heavily in her chest as she stared at him, his appearance harsh. She cleared her throat without thinking and rounded him, reaching for the bucket of water.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked him before wringing the water from the cloth and approaching him. She stepped in front of him and he stared up at her. “As bad as you look, I’m guessing.” At this he chuckled, and she easily wedged herself between his knees. She began wiping what she could of the dried blood from his face, avoiding his jaw and nose.

  “I feel like I have been hit by a semi.” He told her and she laughed lightly, reaching past him and dipping the cloth into the water, wringing it out once more. The water was tainted red and Amber felt saddened; this was her life, the blood and the gore, and it was never going to change back to how it was before. When she turned back to Miles, she saw that he stared at her, his deep brown eyes digging, searching hers for some kind of answer. She smiled at him, refusing to let him see the pain she held.

  “I’m right then.” She said, wiping some more filth from his face. They were quiet as she gently turned his chin in an attempt to remove more blood from the side of his face. The candlelight flickered across his face and she swallowed thickly, noting how his eyes watched hers. “Are you sure you are okay?” she asked lightly, standing straight and reaching for the peroxide. He rubbed the palms of his hands on his knees, his thumbs brushing against her denim clad legs. She shivered involuntarily and quickly unscrewed the top of the peroxide, setting it to the side and pouring some onto the cloth before setting the bottle itself to the side. She reached one hand around the back of his head, urging with the tips of her fingers for him to remain still as she cleaned his wound, the peroxide bubbling in the open air.

  “I’m fine, really. Just a headache.” He said lowly and she nodded in response, setting the cloth to the side and reaching for the curved needle needed to stitch the gash. As she readied the needle, she became acutely aware of his thumb brushing her leg consistently. She finished her task and looked down at him, worry evident in her eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked her and she instinctively cleared her throat, shrugging. Yes she thought; I’m terrified and I’m hurt; I’m tired and unsure; but she didn’t tell him any of this. She didn’t want him to worry about her. They had other things to worry about, other people. So, instead she went about the task at hand, her fingers a little unsteady, but that couldn’t be helped.

  “Lean forward a little.” She commanded of him and he tilted his head slightly to accommodate her. “Now don’t move. This shouldn’t take too long.” She assured him before inserting the needle into his skin on one side of the open wound, pushing it through and inserting it through the other side. He winced, but never made a sound as she pulled the stitch tight and began on another one, continuing with what needed to be done.

  “Are you going to answer my question?” he asked of her bluntly and she sighed in defeat.

  “Miles, I’m fine.” She told him softly, focusing on how many more stitches she needed. It was a lie and she did her best to hide the fact. She felt his other thumb brushing her right leg. The gesture was intimate, and she felt the woman she had forgotten she was long ago flame up even at the simplicity of it. “So what do you think about them? What should we do?’ she asked, hoping to change the subject.

  He thought hard for a moment. “I think…I think everyone but Buddy may be alright. Buddy has such a damn smartass mouth on him. Damien may be childish but possibly okay. But we won’t know until we see how they are whenever they think we aren’t looking. Regardless, we should stay on high alert.” He stopped as he shrugged. “What do you think?” She had to stop and look at him for a moment, to see how he had meant the question. When she realized that he was serious, she turned back to mending his wound, choosing her words wisely

  “I agree. I think that they may possibly be good people like us. This could be an opportunity for us…an opportunity to become stronger and more self-reliant. Who knows…maybe we could help even more people.” She confessed honestly to him, tightening another stitch.

  “Those are big dreams, Amber.” He told her bitterly. She immediately felt foolish and attempted to step back from him but his legs tightened around hers and his hands gripped her knees. She came to an abrupt halt, every nerve ending on edge as he shook his head, eyes closed tightly. Amber held the needle loosely between two numb fingers. Slowly, he turned his brown eyes up to look at her from under long dark lashes. Those gold flecks in his eyes called to her. “You didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry.” He said to her and she nodded, clearing her throat. She began once again her stitching, his legs relaxing but his hands never moved. The action alone unnerved her; take into account his close proximity and her body trembled with apprehension.

  “You’re right. I didn’t.” she told him gently, inserting the needle through his skin. He shrugged his shoulders.

  “Why though? Do you have to be so trusting? I mean…” he stopped, clearly exasperated. He suddenly seemed so very tired. “What I mean is…why do you have to be so damn positive? It is going to get you killed one day.”

  Things were silent as she considered everything that he had said. She wasn’t offended by his questions in the least. Instead, she found herself answering questions that she had asked herself so many times over the years. “Miles, the day I start losing faith, is the day that my kids lose hope, and without hope what kind of future will there be for them? I have this one shred of humanity and for not only them, but for myself, I want to hold on to it.” She stopped speaking for a moment, lost in her own thoughts. “What is the point of being so guarded and afraid?”

  “Because you won’t run the risk of getting yourself or someone else killed.” He told her gently, and she could only smile a small smile at him.

  “You will never go anywhere if you don’t take chances. You will stay in your comfort zone in an endless cycle for the rest of your life.” She told him, gently pulling on the thick, wiry string.

  He ground his teeth together. “As opposed to possibly going down in flames?”

  “As opposed to possibly even making things better for everyone.” She countered. “I don’t want to be that person that c
ould have sat on the porch tonight and watch as every one of those people was torn to pieces. I don’t want to get comfortable with screams of mercy because once I am personally okay with these things, what would I be fighting to stay alive for? What kind of world would I be living in?” She hesitated for only a moment before actually directing a question at him. “Could you live in that kind of world?” She felt his hands tense on her legs as the silence drew on.

  Miles sat in silence, thinking about what she had said. He wanted to say he could, that he had in the months following Michael’s death, but he couldn’t. He remembered the hope he had, although small, was what drove him on; it was what kept him from pulling the trigger. It was the hope that he would find other people, that he would find the disgusting monster that was once his son; the hope that she was still alive.

  “No.” he finally croaked out and he knew she was smiling triumphantly. Amber pulled tight the last stitch before tying it off. She reached for the scissors, positioning them on her fingers and holding up the needle and string to be cut.

  “Then we shouldn’t subject these people to that kind of world either.” She said softly, snipping the wire between the blades of the scissors. “Which by the way, reminds me. Your attitude earlier was…upsetting…to say the least. Have you really calmed down or are you simply tolerating the situation?”

  He sighed, tightening his hold on her knees. “I’m calm.”

  “Good.” She replied, setting the needle and thread to the side. “I’m sorry for what happened to you, but you weren’t alone. I was upset too. Everyone was. But…they helped us.” She said gently and he turned his eyes to hers as she readied the peroxide once again.

  “What happened to you out there?” he asked of her and she sighed, turning back to the gash on his head. She gripped the wet rag in one hand and the peroxide in the other.

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m fine and…” Miles interrupted her, wincing as she poured the peroxide on his now closed cut.

  “You sound like you swallowed a few nails.”

  She never wavered. “Yeah, well…”

  “Amber, you look rough. Tell me what happened.” He pleaded and she stopped for a moment, looking down at him sadly.

  “Do you really think that me telling you is going to make you feel better?” she asked, and she already knew the answer to his question. His eyes remained on hers, and she saw them soften at her words.

  “I just want to know.” And she sighed, her resolve broken from her tired mind, and she set the peroxide to the side.

  “While you were fighting, the other one went towards Brian. I ran out and fought with him while George waited to get a good shot on either one of them. Before I knew it he had me by the neck, my feet off the ground. I couldn’t breathe and I started blacking out; I clawed at him…” she leveled her gaze at him, “…that was why I had to wash my hands first chance I got. His rotten flesh was beneath my fingernails.” She shuddered before ridding herself of the disgust. “George had a shot, took it, and I fell. Then I ran to help you. I guess I wasn’t meant to really have any air today.” She finished softly and he watched her for a moment with regret in his eyes before turning from her. She turned from him and began fiddling with the items on the table over his shoulder.

  He turned his brown eyes to her as she rearranged the peroxide and water. “Well, it is done and over with now.” He told her and she nodded in response.

  “You’re right I guess. I just hate that some of their people died.” Amber agreed and Miles nodded.

  “Me too.” He replied. Rag in hand, she began cleaning more blood from his face and from the wound. The silence grew, but it was comfortable…not in any way awkward. Her mind was blurry and she couldn’t form any thought with the exception of sleep. Her body was begging her to close her eyes. She ached from the day’s events. Miles, however, was a different story. She could see the wheels turning in his mind, his conscience heavy with some unspoken burden.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” He told her softly after a moment, effectively breaking the silence and she stopped her task for a moment in shock. The comment had taken her by surprise.

  “Miles, it couldn’t be helped. I mean, I’m not helpless or weak. The Biters…” she began but he interrupted her.

  “No, I’m sorry for before, for this morning.” He told her firmly, and she could feel the anxiety radiating off of him. She didn’t really want to talk about that morning; things had gone so badly. She didn’t want to upset him further. Instead, she simply set the rag to the side. Did she really have a choice?

  “Miles, stop.” She said firmly, deciding to approach it head-on instead of dancing around the subject. “You can’t be there all of the time for me.” She moved the candle to the right side of Miles on the table before leaning down and tilting his head back and his chin to the left. She tenderly touched along his jaw, searching for any possible broken or fractured bones.

  “I should have been. I shouldn’t have said what I did to you, and I certainly shouldn’t have left you out there alone.” He told her solemnly and she sighed.

  “This morning was no one’s fault. We have just had…poor communication over the years that happened to come out this morning. Things got emotional. Hence me being alone when the embankment went down.” She smiled, expecting him to find humor in her words, but he didn’t. If anything, it saddened him.

  “I never abandoned you.” He told her, repeating the same words he had told her the night of Selene’s death. She studied him hard for a moment before speaking.

  “I know Miles. I just…I told you…I was never upset that you had actually left. I was upset because of many things that day; there was George and Regina, I had been worried about Brian, and….well one of them was that…you never come back. I was so scared that you had died, and much less died alone…I just…” She paused, hoping he could read the sincerity in her eyes. “I would have helped you find him; Brian and I both. You didn’t have to go alone.” He felt so much pain wash over him at her words and he stared at her. Did she have to be so…so uniquely her?

  “It was better that way.” He told her, swallowing back the agony that gripped at his heart. “You were badly injured and…”

  “And I still could have been there for you. Miles, we lost some people too that night.” She continued searching his face for the extent of damage. He winced and she grimaced in distaste for her next words. “Kyle was at a friend’s house that night. We managed to save him and…I don’t know what it would have been like if we couldn’t have. I…” she hesitated, licking her lips. Her fingers had stopped moving and tears pricked the backs of her eyes. “I can’t imagine what you went through and I am so sorry you had to go through it alone.” She looked up at him again, and he caught her gaze. “We do care about you, and always have. You are a wonderful person and your son was too.”

  This seemed to surprise him and she couldn’t stop the small smile that formed on her lips at his shock. “You knew him? You knew I had a son?”

  Amber grinned and began checking his wounds once again. “I…I did. I knew that was where you had run off to that night, was to find him. But that assumption didn’t make it any easier to watch you go alone. When I saw you again, without him, I…I knew.” She swallowed thickly. “I couldn’t bring myself to accept that you had endured so much pain, much less handling it alone. I just knew you would do something drastic and I would never see you again. You left me to wonder about you both and that was what upset me.” She sighed, deciding to answer his question. “His name was Michael.” She recalled. “We, you and I, saw each other a lot over the years…so of course I saw him….I knew him. I ran into him a few times when he worked that after school job at Hardee’s grocery. Other times I saw him with you around town, either talking to a friend or helping someone that needed help. He was the boy that brought me flowers and I was the woman he helped heal; it always will be like that in my mind, I guess.” She told him. “The flowers were beautiful by the way.” She smil
ed, trying to lighten the mood but his eyes dug into her and she felt the sadness in them like a slap to the face.

  “I would have stopped doing those things if I had known you were ever serious about someone.” He said to her calmly, changing the subject to their conversation that had spurred the events of that morning and she stopped what she was doing and straightened, looking down at him. She swallowed thickly.

  “I know.” She replied after a moment. “Why do you think I didn’t date? We’ve been over this.” She told him, turning to reach for the cloth when he reached up quickly, his fingers wrapping around her wrist, stopping her. She turned to him in shock.

  “I know we established that already this morning. What I want to know is why you waited for me.” He told her firmly. She attempted to step away from him but he only tightened his grasp.

  “Miles, why do you think I waited?” she asked softly. He didn’t reply. Instead, he simply stared up at her uncertain. She sighed, feeling overwhelmed. “We have been through a lot today, there are seven new people here; we can’t stand in here and talk about this stuff. You’re hurt and you need some sleep. We can talk about this later.” She told him and he stood, towering over her and dropping her hand.

  “When will we ever have a chance alone to talk about this again?” Silence was her response to his question and he sighed, closing his eyes in exasperation. “I wish I could let it go but I can’t. You have played a big part in the person that you see standing before you, and I want to know why you let it happen. You could have gone on with your life with someone else, anyone else, and instead you didn’t.” He inquired of her, and she took a step back from him, uncertain.

  “Miles, what makes you think I ever wanted anyone else?” She asked him reluctantly, staring at the ground at the candlelight as it danced around them. His eyes widened and she felt her heart pick up its pace.

  “What does that mean exactly?” he asked huskily and she suddenly felt breathless. She was wide awake then, and fully aware of what was happening around her. Her adrenaline fed her anxiousness and she shuddered in spite of herself. His eyes were fire, heating her down to her very core. He knew the answer to his question, he just simply wanted to hear the words come from her mouth.