Endgame (Book 1)

by W. A. R.

  “Everyone stay where you are.” He ordered harshly, finding the correct key before turning and inserting it into the lock, occasionally glancing over his shoulder at the motionless line of people waiting on him. He finally removed the lock and opened the back gate, and seeing a Biter lifted his gun and fired at it. It was a risk he was willing to take, firing his gun; especially considering the fact that he had already done so minutes earlier in the house.

  Once he was comfortable that no more Biters were within close proximity, he ordered his people out, neglecting to lock the gate behind them as he led them deeper into the woods. After a moment he heard trucks in the distance and he held up a hand for his people to stop moving. They did as he motioned for them to do, and they all listened around them for any signs of others. The wind blew through the trees, but otherwise there was nothing to be heard. George turned in a circle, analyzing everything around him, ensuring there was no one watching them before he made his next move. Once satisfied with their surroundings, he turned to the anxious group. Yes, he knew they needed to hurry; they knew that the trucks were heading towards the house but they also needed to play it safe. He handed a gun to Bobby-Jean.

  “You two go ahead and head out. Straight out that way is where Rick and the boys will be waiting.” He told her, pointing to the right through the woods as she grabbed Elva Jo and dragged her away with her. George knew that Rick would be in the woods waiting for the three of them; he knew that Rick wouldn’t leave them to make it to the truck alone. George turned to everyone else who waited, their hands no longer behind their back. Instead, they were retrieving the smaller weapons that they had been able to hide on their person. George handed each of them a gun or a bow, one by one, leaving himself without a larger weapon. He held his handheld weapons tightly. He glanced around them, attempting to determine where the trucks had originally started; his sense of direction being off a little. He motioned to the southeast, the man’s voice clear in his mind. “I think they may be this way. Come on and lay low, keep quiet.” He demanded of them softly and they only nodded, never making a sound in response to his order aside from their feet shuffling against the crunchy leaves on the forest floor. George led the way as they made their path towards their destination, George occasionally glancing over his shoulder to ensure they were all with him and every now and again he would see one of them take out a Biter that was zeroing in on them. It was odd to feel anything other than terror and uncertainty at that point as they were facing what could have been there deaths, but he was insanely proud of how well they were holding together, how strong they were being.

  A few minutes of this went by when they heard hushed voices ahead of them. George turned and looked behind them for cover and saw about three trees with branches low enough to climb. Cassie and Jacob followed his gaze and picked up on what he was thinking and he nodded at them before they quickly crouched and made their way towards the trees. George and Brittany watched as they threw their gun and bow over their shoulders and climbed up. After a moment, George had to lean over to see Cassie as she balanced herself conspicuously on her stomach across a large tree branch and he then glanced at Jacob who was doing the same, taking aim and peering through the scope of his rifle. He spread his hand out, splaying out five fingers, and then pointed a little further to the east than they were. George turned back to Brittany, looking at her from under the cap of his hat. Kyle stood beside her, concealed behind a tree.

  “I need you to distract them. Make some noise over here and Cassie can take some out with her bow. Jacob said there were five. Take out as many as you can. I am going to go to the other side of the truck and take some out personally.” He told them in a low whisper before easing up and slouching away from them. They were terrified and he hoped that they could follow through with the plan. His breath was becoming ragged at the thought and he wondered if he could follow through with it. He swallowed. He had to admit, it was going to be difficult killing an actual person, but on the other hand these people were the cause of their anguish and intent of survival. They were asking for it, and they would certainly be getting what they deserved.

  He eased up, glancing over the thicket before him and saw that he was directly in front of a truck. It had to have been a little side road that they had created to fit the truck into that part of the woods. There were four men and one woman. Two men were sitting and talking animatedly in front of him, their guns in their hands. A man and a woman were on the side where he had just come from and one man on the opposite side, sifting through material in the back of the truck. George saw an opportunity and quietly slunk over to the opposite side of the truck. He peeked over the thicket, seeing the man about ten yards away, his back to him. The other two men were still talking, and George could make out the back of one of their heads from his position. He eased up to his full height and readied himself for what he knew had to be done. He was going to become a murderer to save his family…and that was a just cause…wasn’t it? Regardless, he wasn’t going to stand around and search himself and his tattered mind for the answer to that question.

  George gripped the knife in his hand tighter, if that were at all possible and eased forward on surprisingly deft feet, barely making any sound. Blood roared in his ears as he advanced towards the man and within a few seconds he was behind him. The man started to turn, sensing George’s presence and before George could think about what he was doing he wrapped his free hand around to cover his mouth, muffling any sound that was sure to come from him and brought his knife around the other side, digging the blade of his knife into his neck and swiftly, he pulled it to the right. Warm blood flowed down the front of the man, who had never had a chance to utter the faintest noise. George held him close as the fingers that clawed at George’s hand began to weaken before eventually falling to his sides. The man had gone limp in George’s arms and pale. Blood coated the ground and George slowly eased the man to settle on the crimson leaves, trying desperately not to alert the other people of his group. As strange as it was he felt nothing at taking the man’s life, and yet still he forced himself not to dwell on it.

  After having succeeded in his task, he stood and peered into the back of the truck, his eyes widening in surprise. Their weapons were there…plus some. Perfect. He felt a surge of excitement and relief at his findings, realizing that should his group pull this off, then they may just have a chance of making it out alive. He turned away from the bed of the truck and advanced the front of it, seeing the backs of the two men. He lowered himself, listening to their conversation and waiting for the others to take action and lure some of them away from their positions.

  “Damien should be here shortly with the people. This turned out to be easier than I thought.” One of the two men said.

  “Yeah. Too bad we had to take out two of them though. They could have been useful.”

  “Maybe, but it’s too late to think about that now. Right now, it sounds like Lance is already there, getting the other three that Adrian wanted.”

  George ground his teeth together angrily and he knew that these men were right. They needed to hurry.

  “What are they planning on doing with all of these people?”

  “Make them part of the community I guess? They can help out some way or another. Besides, it could only go one of two ways…be part of the solution, or…if they choose to be part of the problem, we simply force them to be part of the solution...if you catch my drift.”

  George did, and he was just going to reach forward and grab the man, making himself known whenever they both stood. A somewhat loud rustle was heard across the thicket.

  “Did you hear that, J?” the one farther away asked. George froze, hoping then that they weren’t talking about him. He wasn’t sure why he had let his anger get the better of him.

  The other man shifted on his feet. “It’s probably Damien and those people. I don’t know why he didn’t keep them in that house but oh well. Go see if he needs some help.” The man closest to George ordered and
George eased back towards the bed of the truck. He acted rashly and shoved the dead man under the truck as quickly and quietly as he could before turning towards the front. His heart pounded against his chest and he opened the cab door, shielding his body from the man, hoping he didn’t find out that he wasn’t the other man before he had a chance to take him out.

  He cleared his throat nervously. “Hey, J, come help me with this damn thing.” He said, hoping he sounded like the other man that was now stuffed under the truck.

  “What thing, Calvin? What are you messing with now? Abby said we needed to wait for Damien.” he asked as he rounded the front of the truck, seeing the passenger door open. George was kneeling down from view of the other man and woman and as soon as the footsteps of the other man were directly behind him, he stood and turned, slapping a palm over his mouth and shoving him towards the back of the truck where the bed remained covered. He protested briefly, trying to shove George away whenever George shoved the blade of his knife upward under the man’s chin. Blood coated the man’s shirt, as well as George’s shirt as he pressed the man against the truck with his body. The feeling was thrilling, if he could freely admit that to himself. All of his anger, his frustration, and his heartache was going into taking the life from each of them he came across, and though he had expected himself to care, he didn’t. He didn’t care about their history, or who they were as people, left to survive after the slaughter of humanity; he didn’t care what they had gone through, or where they were planning to go. All he cared about was the fact that they were taking away the only family that he had left and he refused to let that happen. After a minute, the blood flow was minimal and he lowered the second man to the ground as well. He then rounded the back of the truck and watched as the last man and woman stood at the ready, staring in the direction of the rest of his group.

  The woman looked uneasy. “Go see what’s taking him so long.” She ordered, addressing the man that had gone off into the woods in search of the sound…or, rather, what they thought was Damien and his hostages. The woman’s hands shook on her weapon as the man advanced forward into the thicket before them. She was feeling uneasy, the silence bothering her and very well, George thought, it should have. George eased forward, squinting against the sunlight and trailing his eyes up at the trees, locating the tree where he could barely make out the line of Cassie’s bow. Within seconds, the bow string whipped silently and George knew that the man was gone. He quickly rushed up to the woman and grabbed her windpipe, pressing his blade against her neck and pulling her body against his.

  “Drop your weapon.” He demanded and immediately she did as he asked. Tears formed in her eyes and she trembled beneath him in fear and he didn’t care. He didn’t care how frightened she was. He had one mission and one mission only. “Where are the keys?” he asked as footsteps were heard coming from the thicket in front of them.

  “In the…in the truck.” She whimpered and he drug her with him as he aimed for the truck, glancing in through the driver’s side window and seeing the keys dangling from the ignition. Another surge of relief filled his senses and he let out a loud whistle through his teeth, alerting the others to come to the campsite. He listened to the hurried footfalls and shuffling of leaves reached his ears and then, something else. Biters. “Please don’t kill me.” She begged as Cassie, Jacob, and Brittany made their way towards them. Brittany looked up at George expectantly, maybe even a little shook up from what had happened; he wasn’t sure and he didn’t care. Cassie, however, walked with determination and resolve, untouched from having to kill another living human. Her eyes and heart were hardened…George understood that far too well.

  He turned to them, still holding the woman threateningly. “Keys are in the truck. Get in.” he told them and they complied, doing exactly as he said.

  He released the woman, shoving her from him and from her gun that was lying on the ground. She stared up at him, not noticing the Biters that were entering past the thicket behind her. There were at least three and George took a step back as she scrambled to her knees, ready to race for her gun as soon as he turned his back. “Good luck.” He bit out cruelly before turning and climbing into the truck as she scrambled desperately to her gun before noticing the dead body under the truck. She cried, pulling up her gun and aiming it at them as George threw the transmission in reverse and backed out, running over the body in the process. The truck bounced as they did this and yet George still felt nothing. A gunshot rung out in the air, though he was unsure where the bullet was aimed. As they backed out of the woods and down the little homemade trail to the main road, George refused to look at what was happening to the woman he had left. He could have just killed her instead of leaving her to die at the hands of Biters, but his thinking was, if they wanted to created worse versions of Biters, why not let them have her? He wanted to hand her over to monsters that they were making worse so that maybe, just maybe, in the few seconds that she has left of her life, she can regret everything that led her to where she was, that maybe she could feel guilt at everything that she had done. Her screams rent the air, but only for a brief moment before the Biter’s overtook her. Cassie, Kyle, and Jacob watched, stone-faced, as the woman was tore apart. George shared their indifference. Brittany, however, was the only one of the bunch to show any emotion, any remorse for what had happened. George glanced down quickly at his blood-soaked shirt and sighed inwardly. They had done it; they had the weapons and the truck and all of their people had made it out. And though he was proud, he feared what was going to happen next, because he knew that the following hours were going to be hell.

  Buddy stared up at the gruff looking man as his eyes studied them, pondering why Amber was grinning up at him. Buddy shifted on his knees uneasily. He wandered what was going through their minds, all of them…all fourteen of them. The man that Amber had addressed as Lance lowered himself down, balancing in front of her on the balls of his feet. He watched her, challenging her, seeing if she would waver, and yet she never flinched. Her hatred and animosity towards him never moved; she continued to meet his cold eyes with her own ruthless ones. Buddy internally hoped that she would keep her temper, that she knew what she was doing. They hadn’t had the time to go over the details of their plan, but he figured she had it under control…at least until she saw the man that had taken Brian, Shelly, and Miles away. He had watched as her eyes landed on the man as he had climbed out of the truck. Once she had him in her eyesight, her ice blue orbs had never left him. Every move he made, she was there, and he knew it. It was precisely the reason he was focused on her then, and though she held his attention, Buddy wanted desperately to intervene and keep her from any impending disaster. Then again, he thought, he had witnessed firsthand what she had done to Damien, who still lay in the house unconscious. He heard a shuffling under the porch and straightened his stance, knowing Katie was edging his way closer to them. He closed his eyes, again hoping that the woman would remain discreet.

  Hope…that damn emotion. He had always considered it a downfall, leaving nothing but a trail of disappointment in its wake, but there he was relying on that damn sentiment to get him through the fear and worry he had that they wouldn’t make it out of what was happening. He would admit, he was nervous about the fact that their lives currently rested in the hands of the people in front of them, at least until they were free from their confines, but even more so, he was angry. Buddy had trusted Damien; they all had, and the man had completely fooled them all. That was alright, however, because they had gotten a bit of information from him and he had gotten everything that he deserved. But now, however, they were dealing with these people that were wanting to….hurt them, kill them…and it was all because of Damien and it was so hard to see the positive side of their current situation; therefore Buddy stood in there in the presence of certain death clinging to hope. Ironically, becoming friends with Amber and getting to know her family has taught him how to see the positive in the future, to understand the reasoning behind bad things
happening, and now he was the one holding on to faith while Amber was lost in her own despair and her family was…gone.

  The man stroked his chin thoughtfully, thoroughly enjoying her scrutiny before chuckling. “Well, this is surprising to say the least.” The man told her, smiling in amusement. She lifted her chin in defiance and possibly challenge.

  “What is surprising, if I may ask?” she asked, and while the words sounded polite they were full of bitterness and sarcasm dripped from every word. Buddy shifted backwards on his knees as he heard Katie shuffle closer to them. His eyes scanned the crowd of threatening people before him and they were relaxed in their stances; their faces however, were all but relaxed…some were hostile, some seemingly bored, and even some seemed nervous. He ground his teeth together. That was all they needed, some trigger happy amateurs on their first run.

  The man chuckled again. “How did you know my name?” he asked of her and this only caused her to grin even more so, her lips parting over her white teeth. Hair stuck to her dirt covered face and her eyelids fluttered half shut, as if in enjoyment.

  “Damien told me before he was further…indisposed.” She answered and he stared hard at her, obviously attempting to understand what she had meant by her words, whether they were sincere or not. He narrowed his eyes at her for a long silent moment before she spoke again. “Are you going to tell me what is surprising or am I going to have to guess?” she asked of him and he harrumphed, shaking his head at her and glancing at the ground for a brief second before turning his cold eyes back to her. Shut up, Buddy mentally begged of her, and yet at the same time he knew the man needed to be kept busy until their other people arrived.