Endgame (Book 1)

by W. A. R.

  “No, no, no…” he muttered but no one addressed him. They needed behind the gate and that was their main focus at that point, regardless of how badly they needed answers. Amber slung the gate open and George hurried forward to relieve Derek. Rick began shaking his head vigorously and George looked at Amber in shock.

  “Where was he?” he asked and Amber held the gate for them to pass through.

  “He was tied up to a tree with a damn bag over his head.” She told him breathlessly as the men rushed through the gates. She then turned her wild eyes to everyone else that was piling out of the house. Bobby-Jean had risen from beside Jackson’s grave, her face ashen and uncertain of the events unfolding around her. “Get in the house! NOW!” Amber shouted before locking the gate back. Everyone began scrambling back through the front door, never questioning her order. Buddy had to admit that he would no longer question her either; she had been right, about everything.

  As they neared the porch, Rick began to panic, struggling against them. Amber had run in the house quickly ahead of them, grabbing the radio. Buddy and George forced Rick up the stairs, Rick no longer struggling, but crying silently instead, mumbling to himself. They hurried through the door, Derek closing it behind them and in no time they made it to the living room. Buddy lost his grip, his shoulder aching as Rick fell to the couch. Amber hurried to him, having seen his refusal to go near the house. Dread was clear on her face and Buddy knew that she was going to bolt as soon as she could to get to the others on the run.

  “Rick, we need you to tell us what happened.” she demanded of him, panic easing its way into her voice. Rick dug his fingers into the fabric of the couch, struggling to breath and grimacing. He looked up at Amber, tears flowing from his eyes. Buddy saw the intense worry that slapped Amber, but she held steadfast to her resolve, refusing to break.

  “Where is everyone else?” he asked, choking on air. Amber looked at him confused, and she felt the knot in her stomach tighten in response to his question.

  “They’re all in the house Rick. You saw them.” She told him, searching his eyes for answers to questions she had yet to ask. She hadn’t noticed everyone else’s presence in the room, for at that moment she was not concerned about anything but answers. Her heartbeat roared in her ears as she awaited his words; words she knew could change everything. He shook his head angrily.

  “No! Where is Brian? Shelly? Miles and Damien?” he all but yelled at her and she swallowed. Her face paled, even though she could feel the trepidation coming days before. She understood what he was suggesting by asking. They were in danger. That anxiousness; it had haunted her and she hadn’t been able to shake it. At that point, however, she wished she had clung to it.

  “They went on the run. Why?” she asked, her words running together. The pulse on her neck was visible as her heart pounded. Rick lowered his head, gripping the couch harder, the fabric tearing slightly from his fingernails. Buddy glanced around briefly, seeing a few…well, he wasn’t sure what to call them. They almost seemed like machines, traps of some sort.

  “Get the radio! Reach them!” he shouted at her and she pulled her hand up, showing him that she already held the radio in her own trembling hand. Since when did she have that? He wondered and he knew that she had tried to reach them already, to tell them they had found Rick.

  “What happened? We need you to tell us Rick.” George prompted him.

  Rick only shook his head in response, eyes angry. “I need to know if they are okay…” he muttered to himself as Amber pressed hard against the button, her knuckles turning white from the pressure of holding it so tightly. Buddy felt his irritation rising. They needed answers and Rick was beating around the bush. Maybe he was in denial about what happened to him, or maybe he had overheard…that was it. He studied Rick’s torn face and he knew that whoever had tied him to a tree to die threatened, mentioned, or did do something to the others. Taking in Rick’s apprehension and insistence of their whereabouts, Buddy understood that the people that had taken Rick knew their plans, knew that they were leaving.

  “Brian? Miles? Are you there?” she asked, tears pricking the back of her eyes. She was mentally berating herself. Why had she let them go? Seconds ticked by and she squeezed her eyes shut from the painful emotions rolling through her. She pressed the button again. “Hello? Anybody there?” she asked, releasing the button and all they heard in response was static. She turned to look at Rick.

  “What happened? What do I not know?” she asked him harshly, her voice thick and he glanced around the house at every face in the room, his eyes angry and determined. “Tell me now, dammit!” she yelled at him, gripping the collar of his shirt, and George eased forward to pull her back from Rick.

  “They’ve taken a real liking to Derek, Brian, Miles, Shelly, Buddy, and you.” He spat bitterly and Amber was infuriated.

  “What in the hell is that supposed to mean, Rick?” she shouted and he stood to face her. He was obviously trying to make sense of everything, frightened and unsure. After a moment, he spoke, and his words made Buddy’s blood boil.

  “Damien. Damien was a traitor.” He bit out and she eased back in George’s grip in shock. Buddy shook his head, wanting to deny it, but it made sense. It all made sense. Joining their group at the plant a week before the Biters came, all of the nights wondering to the fence alone during shift change, disappearing when Jackson was bitten, the missing keys, the locked gate…he had planned it all out. It was all an elaborate hoax. He turned his gaze up to Amber. They had both been right. The threat they both felt the presence of was within the fence and out. That understanding seared through him and he regretted ever doubting her, for ever doubting anyone else in their group. “The guns. They took all of the guns that were in the shed. He has your keys.” Rick told them between breaths and immediately George released Amber, grabbing Brian’s keys from her limp hand and running to the shed. Buddy stared at Amber, who once again tried the radio, and yet again there was nothing but static. Silence ensued as they absorbed what they had just learned. They didn’t want to accept it; they wanted to believe Rick was out of his element once again because accepting it would mean that these people were coming after them, that Damien was one of these people and was alone with the other three. After a moment, George returned, his face angry and grim.

  “They are all gone. All we have are the weapons we had in the woods yesterday.” He told them, confirming Rick’s accusation. Things were quiet momentarily while a million questions flowed through their minds. Why hadn’t these people attacked? Why were they picking them off one by one? A flash of bitter anger came across Amber’s eyes like lightening, and she jumped to her feet, leaning forward and jerking Rick close to her. Her hold on him was tense and frightening, the look in her eyes fearful and livid.

  “What did you mean they took a liking to us? What is Damien doing?” she asked him and he lowered his gaze to their feet. “Answer me!” she exclaimed, shaking him slightly.

  “They are going to ambush them on the run.” He said simply and she instantly released him. Her blood ran cold, and she felt herself going numb. No, it couldn’t be happening. She had to stop it. Hurriedly stepping forward and jerking the keys from George’s hand she began talking rapidly, her voice trembling. The harsh reality of the world was crashing down on them hitting them full force.

  “Okay, what does he know?” she asked to no one in particular. She began rummaging through every drawer in the room before rushing to the kitchen, where Jacob was intensely focused on some contraption he was creating. Everyone followed her, watching uncertainly as she practically ran from drawer to drawer. Amber glanced at Jacob, her eyes wild. “Traps. Great idea. Make them fatal.” She commanded of him, pulling knives from the drawer with her bandaged hands and throwing them carelessly on the table. Her eyes were dark, deadly as she gripped Jacob’s chin, making him look at her. He was frightened of her as her fingers squeezed against his jawline. “I want these people dead.” She demanded coldly, her voice void of
all emotion, and he nodded.

  “No problem.” He told her and she released him, not questioning his actions in the kitchen, or the contraption he was working on. She ran to another drawer.

  “Are there any people out there watching us right now?” she asked and all eyes turned to Rick who slowly shook his head.

  “No…there shouldn’t be…I don’t know.” He said with some doubt. Amber sighed, feeling defeated; she was terrified.

  “He knows where our old house place is, and he knows this one. Is there anywhere we can go?” she asked and everyone in the kitchen remained silent for a moment.

  “The church a few miles away.” Bobby-Jean finally spoke. Everyone was tense and frightened, but they stood resolutely, unsure of what to say. Amber bustled around; trying to gather everything she could, slinging utensils, weapons, etc. onto the kitchen table. She had to leave, to go after them if it wasn’t too late.

  “Good. Get ready. Everyone’s going there. I’ll take you. I’m going after them.” Amber demanded, and yet no one moved. After a brief second she realized this, turning her clouded gaze to them. “I said get ready!” she shouted at them, causing George to take an involuntary step back. Buddy shook his head.

  “I’m going with you.” He told her and she visibly seethed at him. Rick spoke next, shattering what was left of Amber’s resolve.

  “We can’t leave. They have been watching our every move. They will find us in a heartbeat.” Rick told them all from the doorway, his voice gruff and resigned and Amber shuddered at his statement. Her eyes turned to Cassie and Kyle before turning to George.

  “We can’t fight them. They have our weapons and this place will be destroyed. I am not risking my children.” She said between her teeth and George crossed his arms.

  “Then I guess we will just have to outsmart them.” He growled and Amber glanced again at Jacob briefly. “We have no choice but to stay and fight at this point.” He told her what she already knew, and yet still a cold dread filled her at his words. Her vision blurred as she glanced again at her children. She vowed then and there she was going to kill Damien tortuously.

  She turned to Kyle and Cassie, and they knew immediately what she was going to say. They straightened their stances, being the brave children that they had become. “I have to go. If things get bad, run out of here, as fast as you can. I will find you.” She told them, handing Cassie the keys. “Open the gate for me when you hear me crank up and then get back in here and think of everything you can to beat them without us getting too close.” She ordered. They nodded valiantly and she then turned, shifted her gun on her shoulder and began hurriedly towards the garage. Buddy rushed towards her as she rounded the corner of the doorframe, aiming for the driver’s side of the Silverado. George rushed out of the door behind them.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The radio suddenly beeped with an unfamiliar voice. Amber, Buddy, and George all froze in their advances, all looking at the radio Amber had clipped to her belt loop. Her heart pounded in her chest, her vision swimming slightly and her breathing growing rapid. No, no, no. “You’re too late.”

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Rick grimaced as he limped through the house, gathering the items that Jacob had requested. His leg hurt, but even more so was his heart. He was terrified, he realized, and it made him feel weak in comparison to everyone else. He had been weak and upset whenever they had found him and he regretted it. He hated himself for not immediately telling them what he had heard, what he had been told and yet, he worried that he resisted because of his own denial. Cassie and Katie hurried by him without muttering a word, or even so much as looking at him, their arms loaded down with different materials. He placed a hand on the wall as he aimed for Amber’s room, using the wall as leverage for his leg. He grit his teeth, hating himself. His injuries were his own doing. He blamed himself, thinking that if maybe he hadn’t left Brian at Charlotte’s, that maybe…just maybe…some of this could have been prevented. His fingers slid across the wall and he grimaced. Bobby-Jean walked up beside him.

  “Jacob is a genius. I can’t believe he didn’t say something before.” She said, stepping forward to open the door to the side room for Rick. He studied Bobby-Jean, a woman who had been his aunt before the horrible end of the world and who was now a good friend. She seemed to be doing well in the wake of catastrophe, though he knew she was slowly shutting down. Her eyes were still red and swollen from crying all night over her husband’s grave. While Brian completely avoided him and Amber was slightly uncomfortable around him, Bobby-Jean had not been. He sighed, again realizing that their actions towards him were his own doing.

  “Do you blame the kid? We tried to keep them out of these types of conversations. He didn’t really know what was going on until, what…two days ago?” Rick countered and she nodded glumly. It was true; Cassie was involved in many of their discussions, but the other children were otherwise preoccupied; they ensured that. Rick knew that it wasn’t because they didn’t want them to know, didn’t want them prepared, but instead that they weren’t sure they would understand everything. And then there was Kyle, who Rick knew would take some of the things they had discussed to heart and would have attempted to do something about it himself. It was the kind of kid he was. He continuously felt he had to prove himself, even before the outbreak. He had to prove he was a man (a young man), and was big and strong enough to protect his mother and his sister. Then again, with Rick, Brian, and Jackson to look up to, he knew that it was bound to happen. All three of them had been the same way when they were his age. He shook his head at his thoughts. The boy would be alright. Amber kept him safe. She wouldn’t let him go off the handle. He glanced up as they neared the dresser against the wall in the room. She reached up and pulled open a drawer, retrieving a few weapons that were in there: some screwdrivers, knives, and hammers. Rick reached up when she had her hands full and began gathering some of his own.

  “Do you think they will be alright?” she asked him and Rick shuttered, freezing with his hand on the now closed drawer. He knew the answer to that question.

  ‘Just know that you were too weak to save them…we are going to cut them into pieces, turn them into monsters…’

  “I…don’t know.” Rick did his best to lie, refusing to let his emotions get the best of him. He was overwhelmed and he wished he was strong and able enough to have gone with them. He swallowed the nervous feeling in his stomach, tears stinging his eyes. He should have done something, anything, but what could he have done? There was nothing he could do to stop this…nothing at all.

  “I bet you’re glad to have that plaster off of your leg now huh?” she then asked, attempting to ease Rick’s battered mind. Rick had to admit it did make things a little easier with only a bandage holding his healing leg together.

  “How many damn contraptions has Jacob finished?” he asked her, changing the subject. Bobby-Jean reached over to the shelf on the wall, retrieving some rope and an old, cracked bungee cord. The hollow sound of Biters moaning reached through the silence and the boarded window, making Rick shudder with fear that he tried to keep at bay. It was the same fear that carried over from the night before…from spending the night in terror…struggling and hoping to stay alive.

  “Three so far, and they look like they will do what he wants them to do.” She paused for a moment, glancing at Rick before throwing the rope on her shoulder. “We might have a chance, depending on how many people there are.” she said, raising an eyebrow at Rick knowingly. Rick sighed. He knew what his aunt was asking, but he couldn’t answer truthfully. They had covered his head with the bag as soon as they hit the woods. If there were any more than the ones he had seen, he had no idea of it.

  “I only saw two of them. They didn’t mention how many of them there were.” He said bluntly, turning and limping beside her as they made their way back into the kitchen.

  “Did they say anything else?” She asked him, her voice soft and remorseful. She was asking for some closur
e on Jackson, he knew, but he couldn’t. Rick grimaced in response.

  ‘All those pretty women, those girls…we are going to show them that a real man takes what he wants from them…It’s been a long three months from home…’

  “Nothing worth mentioning.” Rick said harshly, feeling the anger bubble up in him once again. She nodded and walked ahead of him, leaving Rick to limp slowly back to the kitchen. He stopped in the hallway, leaning his back against the wall and squeezing his eyes shut. The pain, the anger, the guilt was all too much for him. His mind washed afresh with images over the past almost year, since the outbreak began…since he left Brian. The flashes continued through to the day before, when the two men took him and left him to die…

  Rick couldn’t shake the image of Charlotte’s blood soaked body, torn apart, from his mind. He glanced at Brian, silently both thanking him and regretting that he was there. Rick knew from the beginning that he wasn’t going to be able to go back with Brian, at least not then. He had other people to check on and he couldn’t ask Brian to leave his family to help him. When he had seen them turn into his driveway, he initially thought it was his mom and dad, but upon seeing Kyle in the backseat alone with a severely damaged Amber to protect him, he had to stay until Brian got back, and by that point, he knew that whether they saw him or not, Brian was going to go to Charlotte’s to find him. He wished he could have told Brian the truth, his plans, but he couldn’t. He knew that Brian was afraid and he either wouldn’t let Rick go, or he would have gone with him, and after glancing at the other three people in the car he knew that he couldn’t ask that of him. Brian was closer to him than anyone else, even his sister Charlotte; and whenever he stood there, crying and watching as these creatures tore his flesh and blood apart, he knew he had to disappear for Brian to leave. That was his thought as he watched the scene before him, Brian’s iron grip on his shirt. It was crazy, he thought, that he would consider more the life of the man by his side than the woman in front of him, but he did. He glanced around, knowing that Brian wouldn’t release him without a distraction, and when Shelly hollered for them, he knew that was it. Brian surged forward, and Rick went the opposite direction into the tin shed. He knew Brian would follow him, but he would have to go for Shelly, Amber, and Kyle.