Endgame (Book 1)

by W. A. R.

  “I would have come in here anyways.” He tried defending his actions. She feebly shook her head, shoving her knife into its holster.

  “Can we drop this please?” she asked softly, grabbing her gun next. He stepped towards her, refusing to let her go. He couldn’t answer why he was so hell-bent on making her stay; maybe it had to do with them being alone for the first time since the night she admitted everything, and then again maybe it was because he was so worried that if he let her walk through that door and from him, she would never come back. He was terrified of that possibility.

  “No. I was wrong. We need to talk about this.” He said and she again shook her head.

  “I don’t want to anymore.” She admitted and he reached forward, catching her shoulder and turning her to face him.

  “Why not?” he asked and she turned her fiery eyes to his. He could tell she was hurt beyond words and he knew it was his fault.

  “Because I am that ‘dispensable’ to you.” She said bitterly. “You have run and avoided me for over a week now and so I am simply saving you the trouble.” He let his arm fall from her shoulder and shock befell his face. His heart ached for her as she turned back, checking the chamber of her gun to ensure that it was loaded.

  “You really feel that way?” he asked of her and she sighed, shrugging.

  “Look, it doesn’t matter; really, it doesn’t.” she replied, shoving the gun into the waistband of her jeans. She was going to leave, he knew it. She was going to leave and there was nothing he could do to stop her.

  “Yes it does.” He told her softly, his blood running cold. She turned to him, ready to check the perimeter. He was losing her because he had waited far too long.

  “Miles, just stop.” She said firmly, capturing his stare. He stood frozen under the scrutiny and he was entranced by her ice blue orbs; lost and left to wonder.

  “You want to know why I have avoided you?” he asked, the words tumbling from his mouth without his mind filtering them.

  She shrugged. “I don’t care anymore, Miles.”

  “I did it to protect you.” He blurted out and she paused, turning to face him, even though her eyes remained on the floor around their feet. He mentally begged for her to bring her eyes to his.

  “I don’t need protecting.” She finally turned her eyes up and looked at him saddened yet determined and he could feel every bit of pain and disappointment he had caused her. Her look held him hostage, sending every nerve ending on edge.

  He couldn’t take it anymore; the intensity was too much and in an instant he was bringing his mouth to hers so easily that he wondered if he moved first or if she did. Her lips were once again under his own, moving in tandem with his and he craved the taste of her. She didn’t fight back; instead, she complied to his every move, every touch. And still, the gentleness of it wasn’t enough. He brought his hands to cup her face, pulling her closer, his tongue sliding across her lips begging for entrance. She readily obliged and his tongue pushed past her velvet lips, exploring the taste of her, the heat, the desire. He turned just so, pressing her lower back against the dresser and she mewled at the action. She pulled at his hair, urging his body closer and he felt fire run through his veins. The rest of the world was drowned out there was only her and him in that moment. He had never known a feeling such as the excitement and feeling of wholeness as he did then with her, and it drove him mad. He couldn’t get enough of it, enough of her. He was drunk on the feel of her body pressed against his own, the taste of her. And too suddenly, he ripped his mouth from hers, heat evident in his eyes. He couldn’t hide it if he tried. Her eyes reflected his desire, but they also held confusion and sadness in their depths. He stared at her, and the emotions that ran through his very being were too much to contain.

  “I avoided you because I needed to emotionally detach myself from you. With everything happening, I thought that removing myself was what would keep you safe.” He was breathless, his face flushed with a fevered desire for the woman in front of him, in his arms. “But the truth is that I was wrong and I can’t stay away from you. Amber…” he paused, swallowing his emotions back in fear of her reaction to his next words. “I’m in love with you.” He told her quickly, breathlessly, registering the shock that came across her face. He watched as his words sank in. She searched his eyes for something, anything that proved he was lying. He mentally begged for her to trust him, if only that one time, his eyes pleading with her to understand. The silence was torture and he hated it. He wanted her to say something, to ease his apprehension. She opened her mouth to speak, but before he could let her reject him he pulled her back to him, pulling her hair free of its confinement and twisting his fingers in the long, wet strands. And again, she didn’t resist him, and he took advantage of her acceptance, his lips moving from her mouth to the creamy softness of her neck, his hand slipping beneath the hem of her shirt. He tasted her skin, felt the unique softness that was her. She gasped at his touch, at his teeth nibbling against the sensitive skin of her neck. Fire ran through him; want his only friend in that moment. Her fingers pressed into his shoulders, dug into his back. It was where he had always wanted to be: with her, against her, exploring every square inch of her. He pressed his hand flat against her back, urging her closer if it were even possible and he brought his lips back to hers easing back into the gentleness, back to how they had begun. He knew he needed to let go, and he would try, he just…he needed to feel her one more time before it came to that. It was agonizingly slow, the time it took for his lips to leave hers. He let his fingers slide across her skin as they fell to his sides, staring at her, an apology on the tip of his tongue, but he wouldn’t say the words. He couldn’t because they weren’t true. She looked back at him, her chest heaving and skin flushed and warm. It was silent as they stared at one another, his eyes begging for acceptance, and hers lost on him, glazed over with hunger. Thunder roared outside, emphasizing the emotions that rolled throughout his body.

  A sudden knock at the door startled them, causing them to jump apart. They both stared at the closed door, Miles reflexively turning and stationing himself between her and the wooden barrier.

  “Yeah?” he called to the person on the other side, attempting to rein in his emotions and his racing heart.

  “Miles, I’m going on a perimeter check.” George called through the door and Miles sighed, knowing that their moment was over. He knew that it wouldn’t last forever, but a little more time would have been sufficient.

  “Alright. Give me a sec.” He called back to him. He glanced at Amber, his eyes flashing with emotion; emotion that he was sure she now understood. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked and worry was obvious on his face. He hoped that he didn’t add more to the concerns that she already had.

  “I’ll be fine.” She told him, and he studied her for a moment, ensuring that she was telling the truth. Then he turned from her, beginning for the door. He wished he didn’t have to leave, and yet there was a bigger part that was grateful for the interruption. His mind was a muddled mess, and he was certain that if he were alone with her for much longer he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself. His hands were already trembling in response to her. He placed a hand on the doorknob, hearing the gears turn but he stopped as she spoke his name.

  “Miles.” She called to him and he turned, ready to face the inevitable. He anticipated what she would say next. She twisted her fingers together harshly in a fit of nervousness and confusion. “Miles, I…”

  The banging on the door got louder, cutting off what Amber was attempting to say. “Come on man. It’s pouring outside.” George said impatiently, and Miles sighed.

  “Just a second.” He called back to him before looking again at the woman before him; the woman that had always been his light, his faith, his comfort. He wasn’t sure he could handle her looking at him any differently, or any less than what he already was to her. It was too late for that, however, and the trepidation would be there to stay. She stared back at him, in surprise
and uncertainty. What had she really expected? Her cerulean eyes spoke to him, called him to her and his grip on the doorknob tightened. He refused to advance towards her, refused to embarrass himself further. Did it really happen? He asked himself, but he already knew the answer. It was real; so much so that it hurt. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out and she twisted her fingers together at the waist. That was it. He had done what he needed to do, said what needed to be said. She stepped forward then, and began reaching for him but he quickly opened the door, stationing it between the two of them. He didn’t want her pity, her apologies. He couldn’t. After a moment of deliberation, he turned and left the room behind her a renewed person, with renewed reason. George waited for him by the front door, and the sound of voices carried from the kitchen over the rain hitting the roof. George studied him hard, acknowledging the frown on Miles’s face and he smirked at him.

  “I take it that the conversation didn’t go well?” he prodded, chuckling and Miles merely grunted back in response, the sound of Amber’s boot laden feet in the kitchen behind them. He looked at George, the man who had become a good friend to him.

  “I’m not sure. Let’s get rid of some Biters.” He said quickly, causing George to snicker. He glanced into the living room at Rick, who was still unconscious, and Kyle, who sat guarding him as he and George ambled out the door. He felt everything inside of him ache and he all but ran to the fences to take out his frustrations.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Two days later…

  The feel of Shelly’s hand as her fingers skated down his arm and back brought him a sense of comfort. It was her way of soothing him whenever things became too hard and Brian could freely admit that it worked. She was his reasoning, his morality; although he was still pained beyond reason. It was something he very well couldn’t escape, he knew that. The past months he had only repressed the horror and guilt he had suffered whenever Rick…well, whenever the incident happened. Shelly knew; she had been there. Shelly, Amber, and Brian were the only ones that knew the entire story; that knew how heavily the guilt and regret weighed on his belittled soul.

  They had been lying in the bed that once been solely theirs. Since the new group had come along, however, Elva Jo, Brittany, and Jacob slept there whenever Shelly and Brian were on watch, just as Amber’s room downstairs was alternated between herself, Katie, and Buddy. Miles, George, Derek, and Damien hardly slept, but whenever they did, they simply crashed wherever was most convenient. Brian didn’t mind, no one did. Quite frankly, he was grateful for their presence, their assistance with everyday life, with Rick. He realized he should let everyone know how much he appreciated their efforts. Thunder roared, and he caught the brief flash of lightening through a crack in the boards that barricaded the window opposite where he lay. Yet another thunderstorm in the two days they had found Rick. It was unnerving. He felt Shelly shift, easing forward and planting a gentle kiss behind his ear. They had been lying still for the better part of the day, well into the darkness of night, but he hadn’t cared.

  “Honey, you really should talk about it. That way, maybe you could calm down. There was nothing you could do.” She whispered, and despite his better sense he became agitated. Talk about what? The fires? The people screaming? How he had left his best friend? He couldn’t talk about that…even though the memories invaded his mind in blinding flashes. It hurt. And there was something he could have done; he could have tried harder, but instead he gave up.

  “He is going to wish me dead for leaving him like I did, Shelly. And I don’t blame him.” No, or course he didn’t. They had been best friends, cousins; Rick only a few years older than Brian. Before the world came to an abrupt halt, they had grown up together, riding back roads and listening to music as loud as they could stand it. They would sit in an open field and drink a few beers when things got tough. Whenever Rick was down, hitting one of the many low points of life, Brian was there, and the vice versa. They were blood brothers in a sense. But whenever Rick’s life was in question, Brian had simply left him to die. And every day it continued to haunt him, regardless of the strict lack of discussion concerning the incident.

  “I’m sure he understands that you did what you had to do. Besides, you thought he was dead, baby. Amber and Buddy finding him was the last thing you expected.” She said tenderly, and though she was trying to be caring, he couldn’t help but feel that she wouldn’t understand. And so, instead of replying to her statement, he simply rolled over to face her, bringing her lips to his. The kiss was soft, and his way of assuring her that he was grateful for her attempts at comfort. She pulled away from him and sighed. “I am going to go check on everyone downstairs. I will be back in a little while.” She said, and he knew that part of her wanted him to stop her, but instead he was grateful for the suggestion. He wanted to be alone. He loved her; he loved her so damn much that he would give anything for her, but he knew that the past few hours, no the past few days, she had been trying to get him to discuss his emotions and he very well couldn’t. He needed the solitude. And so, reluctantly, she eased from the bed and he listened as her feet padded against the carpet, marking her way towards the door. Once the door was closed, so were his eyes against the onslaught of emotions that were running him ragged. He continued to ask himself why he couldn’t simply let it go. What was done, was done. There was nothing he could do about it then but try to make it right. But still, deep in his heart, he knew that Rick was going to hate him. Brian hated himself for it. He kept trying to force the memories away, struggling to reign in what little sanity he had left to make it happen, but it is never enough. His stomach twisted into a tight knot, and he winced at the suddenness of it. He knew why he had gone back to Brian’s family’s old house place. He had gone there expecting to find sanctuary but no one was there; no one to help him. Brian had failed him twice, and that fact wasn’t an easy thing to accept.

  There had been fires on the streets of Thurston as Brian, Shelly, Amber and Kyle had driven through it. Shelly was quiet, in tears as she stared at the cruelty that surrounded them. Houses were getting broken into, gun shots echoing, people burning and destroying everything in celebration of the end of the government, the end of society and the human race. Cars were scattered along the roads, dead people hanging out of some, their heads dangling from seatbelts or on the asphalt while their feet remained in the cars. Bullet holes in the brain, the neck, or even the heart. There were even some that slumped forward against the steering wheel, dead; murdered by the people that were whooping and hollering and throwing beer bottles at houses and cars as they passed by while killing Biters that came for them. They had just gotten Kyle from his little friend’s house, and he sat in the back quietly crying; Amber’s wheezing as she tried to breathe evenly against her fractured ribs the loudest sound in the car. Brian drowned it out, desperate to get out of that part of town. He drove quickly, steering around cars, Biters, and people, dodging most of them. Here and there he clipped a Biter, the sheer amount of them wondering around surprising him. The outbreak had happened that quickly; the entire town of Thurston having been overrun in a matter of hours. His mind still raced with the events of the night, remembering the brutality and crassness that people seemed to exhibit in the midst of turmoil. And though he wanted more than anything to get Kyle, Shelly, and Amber back to the house, there was one more stop he simply had to make. He had to go find Rick before it was too late, and when he turned left instead of right towards home, Shelly jerked her gaze to him curiously.

  “Where are we going?” he heard her ask over the roar of blood in his ears. What could he say, really? That he was going to endanger them once again in the same night? He sighed, realizing there really was no other answer.

  “I have to go get Rick.” He told her, never taking his eyes off of the road before them, attempting to cut off to the back road out of town that would lead them to Rick’s house, traffic on the highway difficult to get through as it stood at a standstill because of murdered or turned
drivers. He could feel her accusing and threatening gaze burning into the back of his head as he mashed on the gas, slipping between four lanes of traffic before they could move forward. He grazed a car on his right, causing Shelly to jump, startled.

  “Brian, we can’t. We have to get them home. We can come back.” She said and the words hurt him because he knew that she was right in some respect. They did need to get Amber and Kyle home. Amber was in too bad of shape to even try to fight, and Kyle was too young to understand what it was all about. They were nothing but a liability then in his mind, and that thought bothered him. Shelly, however, was his counterpart; she would help him simply because he needed it. That was what he loved most about her. She would stand beside him, regardless of whether she thought he was wrong or not. He would keep them safe, he swore, because he simply had to if he was going to risk their lives for his own mission.

  “No we can’t. It may be too late by then.” He said and he felt her fear at realizing how set on the task he was. She couldn’t change his mind. He knew how much this hurt her, but he hadn’t expected the end of humanity to happen so quickly. He had expected at least a little bit of time, and though he knew that people were going to be violent and crazed, he hadn’t expected what had happened at Jenson’s Farm Supply or what was happening in the streets around him.

  “What if he isn’t there?” Amber squeaked out from the backseat, causing Brian’s heart to twist just a little more. She wasn’t trying to convince him to go home; instead she was attempting to help him formulate some kind of plan, even if it was shoddy. Her question did however cause all thoughts to pause as he turned swiftly to the left on the back road. There were very few Biters and vehicles about, and the further down the road they went, the less there were. He racked his mind for an answer.

  “If he isn’t there, he will probably be trying to get to Charlotte. But odds are he is still at his house.” Brian said, feeling pretty confident of Rick’s whereabouts. Rick had totaled his truck two weeks prior, and he lived outside of town. Unless he could get to a neighbor’s car quick enough, he would remain where he was.