Endgame (Book 1)

by W. A. R.

  “Cassie…it’s going to be alright.” She tried to comfort the girl, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. Cassie shook her head, feeling the cold salty tears snake their way across her cheeks and suddenly she felt her stomach heave. She turned from the grotesque scene of her friend and released her stomach’s contents on Biter’s corpses that rested next to her feet. Katie rushed forward, attempting to ease the shuddering in Cassie’s shoulders. Cassie whimpered. She wasn’t sure how much more emotional shattering she could take. She grimaced. That sight didn’t help matters either. As she heaved yet again, Jacob and her mother rounded either side of the house, making their way towards the pair. Buddy, Derek, and Kyle followed suit, concern marring their faces as they held their bags of perishables and weapons tightly. George rounded the back of the truck, Lance in tow, carrying a cut water-hose and an empty gas can. He shoved the man forward harshly, watching as Cassie wretched what was left of the contents of her stomach.

  “What’s going on?” Buddy asked, stepping past Katie and Cassie and placing the makeshift bag he carried on the hood of the truck before turning to them. Kyle and Derek did the same, albeit more cautiously and slowly. Cassie shuddered against her will. She was slowly losing the battle within herself. She felt her heart ache and harden at the same time as she wiped away at the saliva that pooled at the corner of her mouth.

  “Cassie honey? Are you alright?” Amber asked her daughter carefully, her words measured and concerned. Jacob tossed Amber a curious sideways glance before they both went forward, going to assist Cassie away from the Biters, from her own revolting mess. Katie graciously stepped aside, crossing her trembling arms after wiping some tears from her face.

  She looked between George and Amber. “I found Brittany.” She said and Jacob halted his movements, his hands freezing on Cassie’s shoulders. Amber turned her glazed eyes to the boy and felt her heart drop. A flush crawled up his neck and silence reigned as he swallowed desperately, trying not to cry. They weren’t naïve or ignorant…no, they understood by the way that Cassie and Katie were acting that Brittany had not made it. Amber shivered. Her own brother had been taken a little over an hour previous, her father the day before, and now this young man lost his sister…the only family that he truly had left.

  “Where?” he finally asked, realizing that no one else was going to do the asking for him. Katie looked away from him. It was odd watching her do that, considering the fact that she was a nurse and she had to have dealt with traumatic and emotional situations before the outbreak. Then again, Amber reasoned stroking her daughter’s back comfortingly, everyone had changed since the outbreak.

  Katie motioned towards the truck. “Under the truck…but Jacob…” she began, reaching forward to stop him and he pulled just out of her reach. Cassie reached out and touched him on the shoulder, locking his brown eyes with her own blue ones. He looked back at her sadly, unsure of his next actions; or rather what she was asking him to do. Amber lowered her hand from her daughter, seeing that the young woman was handling the situation at hand. Cassie was indeed closer to the boy, and even to Brittany than the others were. Amber had to admit defeat and let her daughter handle it how she thought best.

  “It’s bad Jacob. I’m so sorry…I really don’t think you need to see it.” She told him and he turned his gaze from her to the truck before rubbing hard at his eyes. His shoulders shuddered and his face twisted in a fierce grimace. Cassie wrapped her arm securely around his shoulders, bringing him to her chest. And they cried. Both of them cried.

  Amber had to turn away from the scene, as did everyone else. They all meandered towards the truck, watching as George handed Lance off to Buddy and lowered himself to his knees. He tilted his head, using the side of the truck as a brace for balance and a soon as he had a good view he grimaced.

  Amber shuddered. “How bad?” she asked softly, hoping to avoid drawing attention from Jacob. George sighed, rising to his feet, and turned his eyes to her. She could see the pain that rested in their green depths.

  He glanced past her at Jacob and Cassie before turning back to her. “Looks like maybe she tried to hide and a Biter got a hold of her. She hasn’t changed…yet.” He paused before shuffling uncomfortably on his feet. “We are going to have to…you know…” he trailed off and at that statement everyone turned their attention to the ground before them. They were going to have to destroy the brain. Everyone was silent for a moment as they contemplated the entire situation. Amber felt tears continue to build. That could have been her own daughter; it could have been Cassie.

  She cleared her throat, trying desperately not to let the crippling sadness get the best of her…at least until they were safe away from there. “We need to act fast…” she hesitated, turning to Kyle, who stood directly to her left. He looked up at her, his grey eyes tearing her apart. “Kyle, honey, will you go into the house and see if you can find some old sheets or something to cover her…”

  There was a thud and a scream, a shout of excruciating pain followed by a sudden gunshot echoing in her ears and everyone jumped, startled. Amber’s heart began racing and she felt the beat of it slam against her chest. Everyone’s eyes widened and they readied their weapons as they frantically searched for the source of the gunshot. Amber couldn’t move…she couldn’t tear her eyes from her son. For the brief second that it happened, his eyes had widened in surprise just as hers did. He tore his gaze from her to his torso. Fresh blood began to pool against his shirt and dribble down, the area growing a richer shade of crimson with each passing millisecond. She had never felt what she felt then. Everything inside of her went cold, shards of ice running through her veins, slicing her with every single beat of her pounding heart; she was truly desperate and panic was her friend. He looked at her again through pain filled eyes and his face distorted itself into a horrible mask of fear and desolation.

  “Mom?”

  Chapter Thirty Eight

  “Mom?” he asked weakly, afraid and in search of comfort. She didn’t wander what had happened, or how it had happened…all she could focus on was her child…her pure, innocent, and strong child.

  “No no no!” she screamed, lunging at him as he began crashing to his knees, his hands clutching at his wound. Her hand clung to his shirt by the shoulders as she fell beneath him, cushioning his blow as he caved to the dirt. Amber pulled him urgently to her, her head still swimming from Lance’s blow against the stairs. The pain was excruciating, the fear crippling. She didn’t notice Buddy rushing towards the porch where Damien lay on the ground and she didn’t notice everyone rushing to attention around her. Her thoughts were clouded, and all she could mentally grasp was the fact that she was praying and begging for mercy…pleading for his life.

  All she saw was her son. Her baby boy. No, she thought wildly, this wasn’t right. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. He was supposed to live and show the world that there was still good…that something good could always come from something so bad…from something so purely evil…just as his life had always been: something truly wonderful stemming from a horrible event. She grit her teeth together angrily; she refused to let it happen. She jerked his shirt up, her eyes scanning the wound. Blood trickled down his pale abdomen from a gunshot wound that had originated in his back. Bubbles arose from the wound with every heavy breath that her son took.

  “Katie!” she screamed, even though Katie was right next to her, her fingers already searching, already looking for a positive answer. How had Amber not seen her move? She glanced up. They were all around her with the exception of Buddy. George was shouting something; Cassie was on her knees, shock, agony, and horror written across her pale face. Everyone else remained silent, tears streaking across their faces at the scene. Kyle’s face was paling, and he was numbly holding Amber’s shirt between his limp fingers. Her heart clenched, and her mind was blank.

  “Mom?” his weak voice reached her ears and she turned her eyes to his. He had her locked there.

  “I’m right here baby. I’m not go
ing anywhere.” She desperately assured him. She turned to Katie angrily, wondering why she had not given her an answer, why the woman wasn’t helping. It was then she noticed that Katie’s deft fingers had pulled back and her eyes were laced with regret. Her hands trembled as she pulled them back in her lap and she refused to look at Amber, and yet her lips were moving. Why couldn’t Amber hear her? “Do something!” she exclaimed, hugging Kyle closer to her chest. The wound was then covered with something…plastic, and Jacob was applying pressure to it. The rocks dug into her legs, and she didn’t even acknowledge the biting pain. Katie’s lips moved again and yet she still couldn’t hear her. All she could hear was the hollow sound of blood rushing in her ears. Her heart slammed harder and harder against her chest, so much so that the feeling was painful. Her breathing was rapid and shallow. George placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her, tears evident on his tanned face. He spoke, but Amber heard nothing. “What? What are you both saying?!” she exclaimed harshly. Cassie broke down, blubbering and moaning. She reached forward and took Kyle’s free hand in hers.

  A low whistling caught in her ears as Katie spoke again. “The bullet hit his lung.” She repeated herself, her voice trembling. His lung, she thought…his lung. He couldn’t breathe.

  Amber grew angrier, her knuckles white as they clutched at Kyle’s shirt. “Can’t you fix it?”

  Katie turned her eyes from Amber shamefully. Amber knew the answer before she even spoke it. “No…I can’t.” she told Amber softly before glancing at George, who had stood and turned his back to the others, wiping at his face, his shoulders shaking. “I put the patch there but that will only last a few minutes since it isn’t bandaged correctly. Amber…his lungs are collapsing and putting pressure in his chest and against his lungs. He has maybe fifteen minutes tops. We don’t have the necessary equipment needed to fix this. I’m…I’m so sorry…” she told Amber softly, her lip quivering before standing and rushing off. Amber felt her world crash down around her. No…it couldn’t be happening.

  “Then find the proper equipment!” Amber shouted through her tears, the rumble of her voice shaking her down to her very core. Everyone remained silent, some turning away from her and her agonizing pain, from her rage, as if they couldn’t handle watching them, witnessing her step off of the brink of sanity on top of everything else that had occurred to them. She couldn’t blame them, but still, it hurt, and what hurt worse was her denial. They couldn’t bring themselves to argue with her, and instead, they blocked out her requests.

  “Please?” Amber pleaded with someone, anyone. She didn’t care who she beseeched to, just so long as they helped her. She even turned her fleeting eyes to Lance, who watched the mother cradling her son as his life ebbed away. He appeared at a loss, his eyes wide and his chest moving slowly with every nervous breath. “You…” she cried, no longer feeling the anger and animosity towards him, no longer caring of his deeds as long as he could safe Kyle. “Please. Please help him.”

  He gulped, looking up at her sadly. “There isn’t anything…” he began, shaking his head, but he trailed off, appearing grief stricken and at a loss…as if he sincerely wanted to help. Amber cut him off, her fury towards him returning. Of course he couldn’t help; why had she thought he could?

  “It’s your fault! You should be dying; not him! Not my baby…” she cried, lowering her gaze back to Kyle. Lance swallowed thickly and had the good grace to look away, if only for a moment. “You’re wrong…we can do something…we can…” Amber began to argue yet again but George looked down at her and shook his head, the pain of losing his son washing over him yet again at the loss of hers. It hit her then…the inevitable truth that was staring her directly in her face…he was really dying…her son, her baby …he was going to die in her arms in a polluted world. He would never know how it felt to love a woman…he would never understand what it felt like to raise children and try to offer them the right choices in life. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and began rocking back and forth in a fraught motion. The realization slashed at her heart, at her very being and she felt everything about herself crumbling down. She shook her head as the pain washed over her again and again and again. It wasn’t fair…she was supposed to die first…she was always supposed to die first.

  “Mom?” his weak voice reached her ears once more and she jerked her attention to him. He smiled weakly at her. His face was so innocent; his grey eyes her father’s reflection staring right back at her. What was she to do? She had let both of them down. Her lip quivered and her face was a blotted, splotchy mess…the tears running in rivulets from her eyes and dripping off of her chin.

  “Hey baby boy. I’m still here.” She told him, feeling fresh hot tears flow from her eyes. She brought a hand around to brush his long dark hair from his paled face. Everything inside of her was breaking and she couldn’t fix it. It couldn’t be happening…it wasn’t real; but it was…it was so very real. She couldn’t breathe…it was so hard. Oh God…it hurt…

  “Mom, it’s alright.” He told her softly. And she shook her head at him vigorously, breaking into uncontrollable sobs. She couldn’t help herself. His breathing became heavier and his chest appeared slightly bigger. He deserved a better death, not a gunshot wound, not internally suffocating…not with Biters’ hungry moans and growls surrounding them…

  “No…” she wailed. “No it’s not alright.” She cried. She clutched at him with every bit of strength she had. Everyone with the exception of Cassie, Jacob and Lance had stood. Cassie covered her mouth, tears ever flowing. Lance was simply forgotten, no one paying him any attention. He didn’t notice however. All he could do was watch the scene before him with agonizing guilt. “It should be me.” She told her son. It was true. It should have always been her. She should have been the one to take the bullet, not him…not a child…her child.

  He swallowed, wincing as he took another breath. “No, it shouldn’t.” he told her softly and he smiled weakly again, lifting a feeble hand to her cheek and forcing her to look at his grey eyes, her father’s grey eyes. Tears brimmed on his lashes. “I’m scared...” he told her, his voice cracking. It was so much like her father the day before…she began to feel sick. She held back her sobs, waiting for him to continue. “I’m so scared…but it will be okay.” He told her, assuring her when she should have been the one assuring him…she had failed him yet again.

  She sniveled. “I can’t let you go.” It was a desperate plea, one that didn’t go unnoticed.

  He swallowed the pain. “…Mama it hurts…”

  “I know, baby.” She cried over him, her hands trembling. He swallowed and then coughed, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

  “I’m sorry.” He mirrored her. Sorry? Sorry?! For what? She screamed in her mind, mentally berating herself. She should be the one sorry.

  Amber choked on her feelings of abandon and heartache. “Stop…you are so wonderful, so smart…No mother could ever be prouder of…”

  “Mom?” he asked of her, his eyelids getting heavy. Her words stopped short as he lowered his hand to his chest, the feeling so tight that it was hurting. His heart was aching from the pressure. His breathing became even shallower, quicker.

  “Kyle?” she asked of him, terrified of what was happening. His hands began shaking, trembling from the razor-sharp pain throbbing in his chest. He was in so much anguish, and he tried so desperately to hide it for her benefit, she saw that. He was a child.

  “I…I love…you…” he coughed out between jerks, his body spasm-ing in response to the pain of the pressure in his chest crushing against his lungs as he tried to breath and his heart as it tried to beat. Thu-thump…she felt his heart beat against her palm, so slowly as it struggled against the pressure with every breath he took…thu----thump---thu---

  “I love you too, baby. Fight this out…stay with me…please just…don’t…” she paused, watching silently as his body stopped twitching. Thump… and that was it. His eyes rolled
into the back of his head and his head lolled back against the crook of her arm. His grip on her loosened, and Jacob shakily removed his hand from the patch, the patch slowly falling forward against Kyle’s skin. No… “Kyle?” she asked through her tears. “Kyle? Wake up.” She shook him in her arms and yet he didn’t move. His eyes remained closed and his body was limp…lifeless. Bubbles no longer presented themselves from the wound. “Wake up!” she screamed at him, knowing, simply knowing that he wouldn’t. She lowered her head, squeezing her eyes shut tightly against the horror of it all. “Please wake up…” she trailed off, crying uncontrollably against the neck of her now deceased son.

  Minutes passed by quietly. No one spoke a word, or even moved. Jacob stood off to the side, crying into his folded arms for his sister. Amber had her face nestled into the crook of Kyle’s neck as she held him, unable to break herself from the tears that flowed. Cassie knelt on the ground beside Kyle, her heart aching for her brother, for her friend…both too young to have died…to have even been put in a situation such as that but they had no choice in their world. George stood back, refusing to look at anyone else, sobs wracking his body. Bobby…his son Bobby…Brittany…Kyle… His mind was a muddled mess of negativity and loss. Katie stood off to the side, also unable to look at anyone else. Even as a nurse, she had never experienced such loss, such brutality. Derek wasn’t sure what to think, what to feel, as he simply felt numb at the sight. Lance had lowered his head in shame, in guilt, and Buddy had to wonder why. Why, after all that he had done, would he feel guilty then? It angered him. Buddy approached the group with a heavy heart.

  As soon as the gunshot was heard he had turned to see Damien, broken, damaged Damien, holding Lance’s revolver. He couldn’t believe it…he was unsure when he had gotten it, but then, he remembered that he and George hadn’t picked it up yet, that it was on the ground and out of his reach. He rushed over to the beaten man where he lay, his eyes flashing angrily and his laughter filled Buddy’s ears. His laughter…his maniacal, delirious laughter. That sound, surrounded by the circumstances, would carry with him for the rest of his life, he knew. The gun was held weakly in Damien’s hand, his elbow resting against the ground. He couldn’t lift it high, and the gun itself was twisted at an angle in his hand before he dropped it the inch or two it was lifted to the dirt. He had pulled himself off of the porch to reach the gun, fallen off of the edge to reach the gun. He had used every bit of his strength and trudged through that pain to shoot that boy, to kill him.