Endgame (Book 1)

by W. A. R.

  Miles shifted on his feet, crossing his arms. “And how am I a threat? You’re hostility towards me is because you are jealous. You act like a child.”

  This stumped Buddy, who merely shrugged. He had a retort ready and at hand but he bit it back. He couldn’t blame Miles, because he was, for the most part, right. He sighed once more. “That may be true. I won’t deny that…”

  “You shouldn’t. It’s painfully obvious.” Miles said calmly.

  Buddy ran a hand through his long blond hair. “Regardless...you may not be a threat right now but one day you might be, and when that happens I want to be there to keep them from the pain you are going to bring them.” He paused to see Miles shocked expression. “Nothing personal.” Buddy offered as best as he could before Miles nodded in thought before speaking.

  “So, you worry about them because I might one day be a dangerous…problem.” Miles summed up Buddy’s explanation.

  Buddy simply nodded at him. “Yes. You are a leader. You are one to take chances and more than likely you will be one of the first to get hurt.”

  “And what if something happens to you?” Miles asked, and Buddy spoke without hesitation.

  “I am not as close to them as you are. It’ll be easier to lose me.” He admitted, and the words cut him deep as they were spoken aloud. “As for you, when something happens to you, I will be the one to kill you…not them…before you can even think about hurting them. Not that you’d be doing much thinking by that point.” He replied sarcastically.

  “Is that a promise?” he asked Buddy, and Buddy was taken aback briefly before furrowing his eyebrows in angry confusion. Miles stood before him, awaiting an answer.

  “Is what a promise?” he asked hotly and Miles continued to stare hard at him, reading his facial expressions and body language.

  “If anything happened to me, you would be there for them, all of them?” Miles asked him and Buddy remained silent, unsure what he was asking of him and wondering how they had reached that conversation. Miles took another step forward, being direct with him. “If something happens to me, would you really take care of it so they wouldn’t have to; so Amber wouldn’t have to?”

  Buddy widened his eyes for a moment before glancing down at the outstretched hand Miles held out for him. Slowly, he shook it firmly. “Yeah. I’ll do it. I’ll take care of them.” He said and he was surprised by the turn of events. How had they jumped from hating each other to somewhat being friends? Why had he divulged his biggest burden to him? Maybe it was all because he saw Miles’s pain as his own, and vice versa…but then again, maybe they were just two men who had reached an understanding. Miles nodded and released his hand, turning to walk further into the woods, the rabbits swinging against his leg as he moved.

  “Just because we reached an understanding doesn’t mean we are best friends. You still need to adjust your attitude and I am still pissed at you.” Miles said as he walked up to a smaller tree where a squirrel nest was hidden above in the tree limbs and shook it. Realizing what he was doing, Buddy quickly withdrew his gun and aimed as a squirrel swiftly jumped from the nest to the limb, running to the end. Buddy aimed and pulled the trigger quickly, watching as the animal dropped and began falling to the ground.

  “Whatever.” Buddy grinned, glad that things were beginning to get better for him and the others around him. He turned to Miles, who stood motionless, looking around him curiously. Buddy’s good feeling left as he leaned down to retrieve the squirrel, shoving it into his vest pocket.

  “What is it?” he asked and Miles shrugged.

  “I thought I heard another gunshot when you fired.” He said softly and then they heard it; a blood-curdling, fear-filled scream echoing through the woods. Both men broke out in a dead run, their feet kicking up leaves behind them. A few cries were heard and then silence. Both men never stopped; they kept running, hoping they were going in the right direction.

  “Oh my God! Brian!” they heard Amber through the thickness of the forest and Buddy felt his blood run cold. “Brian! Miles! Somebody please!”

  Jackson wondered slowly about beside Damien, who had his gun at the ready should anything walk out. Jackson squinted, glancing up at the bright sun as it beamed down on them through the tree branches. He turned back to Damien, shifting his gun on his shoulders. They had yet to see anything, much less kill anything. He had heard a few shots through the woods, and he wondered what everyone else had gotten. He stopped at a wild onion plant in the woods and knelt down to pull it up. He would rather not go home empty handed. As he was digging, he heard Damien step up beside him.

  “What is that?” Damien asked, his voice crisp and curious, maybe a little unsure.

  Jackson chuckled deeply. “Wild onion. It’s pretty good if you know what to do with it.” He told the young man who wrinkled his nose in distaste. Jackson looked at him over his shoulder. “You can’t be too picky in this day and age.” He said and Damien shrugged.

  “I guess not.” He replied and things grew silent once more as Jackson’s old fingers dug into the somewhat soft dirt. He pulled slightly, dug some more, and pulled again. After a moment, he pulled it up, exposing the dirt covered root, holding the leaves that sprouted on top. He easily stood, his knees straining slightly with the effort. His age was creeping up on him in recent weeks and if that didn’t bother him, his lack of participation in decisions did. He had left his two children in charge of their futures, and he had done so wordlessly.

  “See? Onion.” Jackson chuckled before attempting to dust most of the dirt off. After he gently put it into his jacket pocket, he turned to Damien, who shifted on his feet easily. “What’s the matter, son?”

  Again, he shrugged. “Just thinking of the conversation we had yesterday….you know, the one about faith.” He said and Jackson couldn’t hide the grin that formed on his face. He considered Amber and Brian and how they had taken action when the outbreak occurred. He was so very proud of them and he knew that every decision they had made and every action they had taken had always been what they thought was best. They were both so open and compassionate, although in recent months it seemed as if they were more haunted than anything else. They were heartbroken and hurting and there was nothing he could do to fix it, to even consider fixing it. The only thing he could do was be their father, their confidant; he could be there for them.

  “What about it?” he asked, and Damien looked out into the woods at nothing in particular. Jackson studied him, watching as his light colored eyes skimmed over the tree limbs and leaves that covered the forest floor. He was an odd one, he thought, but then again, who wasn’t anymore? This was the most he had actually heard the young man say in one sitting.

  “Do you really believe that faith is what is real to us?” he asked and Jackson nodded, turning to walk further into the woods.

  “Yes I do.” He replied easily. “With faith, anything is possible.” He said and Damien chuckled exasperatingly. This should have surprised the old man but it didn’t. Instead, it comforted him that the man was reaching out to him about faith. He was searching for an answer and Jackson was there to help him find the one he was looking for.

  “I don’t believe that.” Damien countered on a smile.

  Jackson eyed the young man. “Why do you think we all ended up here together?”

  Damien didn’t hesitate to respond. “Coincidence.”

  “Oh my boy,” Jackson began, glancing once more up at the sun. “I believe you are wrong about that one. What is real to you?”

  Damien lowered his eyes from the intensity of Jackson’s question. “I’d rather not say.”

  “But there is something.” Jackson stated, “And that is enough.” He paused, shifting on his feet. “I’d say we start heading to the pond. We have about thirty minutes to an hour left and it’ll take us a while to get there.”

  “Sounds good to me. Maybe they got something. And by the way, if your faith was not coincidental, then maybe it will bring us some kind of animal. I feel like su
ch a…” he paused, and his eyes widened in surprise. “Well, I’ll be damned…” he whispered more to himself than Jackson. Jackson turned, following his line of sight and saw a decent brown hare. Jackson smiled, nodding in approval as Damien began hoisting his gun against his shoulder. He clicked back the hammer and placed a finger on the trigger. Almost instantly, the rabbit spooked, and began sprinting away. “No!” Damien shouted before taking off into the woods after it. “I’ll be right back after I get Bugs Bunny!” he called back to Jackson and Jackson chuckled, turning to glance around at the ground before him. There were a few more wild onion plants, and if he wasn’t mistaken, what looked to be a wild berry bush a few yards away. He smiled to himself and lowered to his knees, beginning to uproot the wild onion.

  A short while later, he had dug up the onions, shoving them into his pockets and began on the wild berries. He loved berries and his mouth watered as he picked them. Though times were definitely harder after the outbreak, he had to admit that it did make him appreciate the little things more often than he had before. He thought of his children, and how very proud of them he was. They had grown into a fine young man and woman, and even in the aftermath of destruction, they held on to every important life lesson he had taught them. The rustling of leaves behind him caught his ears and he grinned.

  “I never heard you shoot, so I assume Bugs got away.” He called back over his shoulder. The rustling continued, and there was nothing else but silence. He felt everything inside of him go on high alert as he easily slid his gun from his shoulder, holding it steady with both hands. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that it wasn’t another person; hoping it wasn’t the people they were worried about. He wasn’t alone and he couldn’t warn anyone without them running right into the trap, if there was a trap. He took a deep breath and turned around on the balls of his feet quickly. He came face to face with a decrepit Biter, and it lunged at him, sending him sprawling on his back, his finger pulling the trigger as he landed hard. The gun flew from his hand and landed with a thud. He grunted with the fall and grimaced at the pain that accompanied it. He felt it then, the Biter on top of him and he began to panic. His heart was racing, and he urged his feeble bones to move. He pressed his hands against the Biter as it snapped its yellow teeth at him. Fear spiked through his veins and he felt scared and ashamed of being so scared. In the face of death, he never expected to be frightened of the prospect of it, and yet, there he was, fighting for his life and he was terrified. He grunted with the effort it took his old hands and arms to press back against the Biter. His skin and flesh was decaying, and Jackson’s fingers dug into the creature until he reached bone. Skin and decayed muscle tissue dripped from between Jackson’s fingers onto his shirt. Digging his boot into he ground, he tried to shove himself back but it didn’t work, as the lifeless mass of dead body he fought with was too heavy. He shoved back as hard as he could against the creature, and even tried to bring up his knees and feet to shove the monster off of him, but everywhere he touched disintegrated against him. Jackson glanced about him wildly, crying out once more. He couldn’t reach his knife on his hip, the gun was out of his reach and he knew then that he would die.

  He screamed as loud as he could. Someone please come help me, he begged silently, tears springing to his eyes. The Biter didn’t care about Jackson’s pain, Jackson’s fight for life. Instead, he kept lunging with a force that continued to surprise him. The struggle went on for just a moment before his fingers slipped across the slickness that was the creature’s skin and the monster came down, baring his teeth. The Biter hit Jackson’s chest with a loud slap, the action causing a dull ache in in chest. Before he could get a grip to push him back, the rotten teeth dug into his neck and he gasped, attempting to cry out in pain, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything but kick and grasp at a body whose flesh was steadily falling apart in his hands. The pain was excruciating and he felt the tendons, nerves, and muscles of his neck tear. This was the end and for a brief moment, as he fought, he hoped that his children didn’t see him that way. It was too late for that, however; he knew they were already on their way. The feeling of warm wet blood coursed down his neck and he could feel the blood spill onto the ground beneath him, flowing to the back of his neck, his shoulders.

  Amber rushed out of the woods then, Zeus ahead of her and everything inside of her ran on pure adrenaline. No, no, no…she thought as she and George surged forward towards her father who was lying struggling on the ground with a Biter over him. George leapt in front of her, driving his knife into the back of the Biter’s skull and shoving it off of her father and Zeus eased his way to the wood line, his inability to bark, or even make a sound frightening Amber even more so. Amber rushed forward and fell to her knees beside him, leaning over him and looking at his fatal bite. Jackson’s hands tried to cover the wound, and Amber urged him to move his hands. Blood spurted out, hitting her in the face and she reached forward with her hands then, attempting to stop the bleeding. George was beside her now, removing his shirt as blood pressed through her fingers and rolled across her knuckles.

  “Oh my God! Brian!” Amber screamed, tears stinging her eyes as she took George’s shirt from him and pressed it against Jackson’s neck. “Brian! Miles! Somebody please!” she begged to the woods before turning back to her father. His mouth moved and she tried to shush him. She looked at George, who was attempting to help her stop the bleeding. “Go get Katie. Now. Go!” she screamed at him, but he was already on his feet racing back towards the house. The woods were eerily silent as she stared down at her paling father. Amber pressed hard against the wound, but blood was already coating through the shirt, spreading once again through her fingers. She felt lightheaded: how could he be bleeding out so quickly? She felt her heart break in her chest and scatter to pieces across her soul. She knew he wasn’t going to make it. His eyes were wild and distant as he looked up at her, fear evident in their grey depths. “Daddy, just hold on.” She begged of him and he tried to move his mouth once more.

  “I…scared…” he choked out, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. Amber bit back her hysteria as he began twitching involuntarily.

  “What the fuck?” she heard Buddy exclaim as they both rushed forward, sliding on their knees beside her.

  “Biter…he got bit…shirt…” she spoke quickly in chopped sentences, unable to formulate a real response though her tears and Buddy immediately removed his vest, tossing a squirrel aside. She removed George’s shirt from Jackson’s neck and hurriedly took Buddy’s vest, pressing it against his neck, but not before his blood once again hit her. George’s blood soaked shirt rested against her thigh and she could feel the blood soak through her jeans. Her arms and hands were covered in the crimson liquid. She stared down at her father tenderly. “I know you’re scared, but there isn’t anything to be scared of, alright? We are going to get you home.” She falsely promised him. She glanced up at Miles pleadingly, and he swallowed.

  Without a word, Miles took over pressing against the wound, leaving her to comfort her father. Her hands were trembling as blood fell from her fingertips. Brian emerged through the woods then, pausing briefly before falling to his knees on the other side of Jackson.

  “Let me see…Let me see…” he said, urging Miles to move the vest so he could see the damage done. The mass of missing muscle, nerves, and tissue caused Brian to swallow back the bile that rose in his throat. “Oh my God…” he said, emotion clogging his throat. He glanced up at Amber, seeing her blood and tear stained face. “No, No…dad?” he asked turning to the man that had raised him, the man that had made him who he was, and Jackson turned his sight slowly to see his son. Slowly, he reached a blood and dirt covered hand to Brian’s arm, touching him lightly Brian felt tears escape his eyes at how white he had become. “You’re gonna be okay. Alright?” Jackson merely turned back and coughed lightly, blood once again dribbling out of his mouth and flowing to the crook in his ear. His eyelids drooped, and he stared up into the sky above them, star
ing at oblivion. His arm fell with a hollow thud against the ground.

  “Daddy?” Amber asked, seeing that he was no longer twitching, “Daddy…” she cried softly, lowering her forehead down to his and sobbing silently. Brian immediately stood, covering his face with his hands as he cried. He yelled in emotional anger, hitting the nearest tree as hard as he could. Miles released his hold on the vest, although leaving it there to hide the brutality of the bite. Tears snuck their way from his eyes and he easily stood, turning to stare at Amber’s motionless figure.

  The sound of hurried footsteps sounded and Buddy glanced up to see everyone: George, Katie, Bobby-Jean, Kyle, Elliot, Brittany, Cassie, Jacob, Elva-Jo, and Derek. Miles stepped back as Bobby-Jean cried out, rushing to his side. Cassie held Kyle close to her as they sobbed at the scene before them.