Pawn's Gambit

by Darin Kennedy

  “Well,” Atkinson said, “that is indeed a miracle. Consider yourselves blessed. A lot of families don’t get such an opportunity.”

  “Thank you for all you did for Mama,” Mrs. Armstrong’s daughter said.

  Atkinson raised a hand and gave them a confused smile. “I’m glad we were able to bring some peace to her final moments. I’ll drop back by in a few minutes to help with arrangements, but another patient needs my attention first.”

  Atkinson left the room wondering if the family was suffering from some sort of group delusion. Mrs. Betty Jean Armstrong, age seventy-two, had suffered massive brain hemorrhage, a complication of impossible to control blood pressure and made worse by the blood thinner she was taking for her heart. He’d personally declared her brain dead hours before.

  Their story seemed impossible.

  And yet, stranger things have happened, he considered as he continued his trek toward Bay 2. And speaking of people desperately in need of a miracle…

  The door to the Cervantes girl’s room was closed with the curtain drawn. Taking a deep breath before entering, he slid the door open a few inches and poked his head inside. The absence of the ventilator’s periodic hiss coupled with the high-pitched drone of the flatline marching across the cardiac monitor’s screen set his hair on end. Neither, however, appeared to matter to the girl’s nurse who stood dazed by the squealing machine, her hands moving with quiet efficiency as she silenced the alarm.

  The girl’s boyfriend was up from the ortho floor and standing at the bedside. His muscular back exposed by a hospital gown hanging askew, the boy obscured Atkinson’s view of the girl’s face. Though he couldn’t see his features, it appeared he was crying. In sharp contrast, the three at the foot of the bed couldn’t seem to stop smiling. The cute girl with the freckles and auburn hair from before stood arm in arm with the guy who brought the two kids in, sobbing like the credits were rolling on It’s a Wonderful Life. Meanwhile, the priest who demanded to give the girl last rites sat in the corner panting, his brow dripping with sweat.

  As Atkinson stepped into the room, the girl with the auburn hair smiled at him and winked, beckoning him closer. The boyfriend turned at the sound of his quiet footsteps, his surprising smile shining through the tears rolling down his cheeks. Nothing, however, compared to Atkinson’s shock when he met the eyes of his patient.

  Lena Cervantes looked up into the eyes of her doctor, her face whole and unblemished, her wounds healed and her expression buoyant. “Hello,” she said, pausing as she read his nametag. “Dr. Atkinson. You’re the one that’s been taking care of me, right?”

  Atkinson shifted from foot to foot, unsure of how to answer. “Yes, uh… I’m the surgeon who operated on you. I’m glad to see you’re improving so quickly.”

  Impossible.

  Yet there she is.

  A miracle.

  “Well, thanks for all you did. I’ve never felt better.” The girl beamed up at him.

  For a moment, Atkinson felt like a kid again. He wasn’t a religious man, and didn’t have much time for things that couldn’t be explained by medical science, but this… “You’re welcome.” He smiled, the mood of the room infectious. “And you’re sure you’re all right? No headache? No pain?”

  “Like I said, never better.” Lena looked over at the man called Steven. “In fact, if you don’t have any objections, I’m sure somebody else needs this bed more than me.”

  “Of course.” The scientist in him wrestled with the childlike sense of wonder threatening to overtake him. “But—”

  “No buts, Doc.” Lena rose from the bed and shook Atkinson’s hand. “You can check me out all you want, but I’m pretty sure I’m ready to go.”

  “Lena,” the boy said. “Are you sure?”

  Despite her boyfriend’s scowl, the girl took his hand and repeated herself without an iota of doubt in her voice.

  “I’m ready.”

  25

  Shift

  For the better part of two hours, Steven, Audrey, and Archie stood by in the bustling family area waiting for Lena and Emilio to be discharged. Dr. Atkinson grudgingly agreed to let her go after the neurologist brought in to examine her hobbled away on his cane muttering that the girl was in better shape than he was.

  During a lull in conversation, Steven excused himself, leaving Audrey and Archie alone to get better acquainted and returned to the large window that overlooked the southern tip of the city of Roanoke. He stared westward out at the verdant valley he once considered home and found himself reminiscing on better, simpler times.

  The hospital sat at the western foot of Mill Mountain, the dominant terrain feature of the area. Atop this green mass of rock and trees rested the Mill Mountain Star, ninety feet in height and visible for miles to the north, especially at night when it’s beacon cut the darkness like a pentacle forged of lightning and steel.

  Steven grinned at memories from his high school years when most Friday nights found him with one girl or another basking in the star’s gentle white glow and looking down on the city below. His mental trek led across the river and up the highway half a mile or so to the downtown area, a jewel nestled in the bosom of the Blue Ridge and Allegheny mountain ranges.

  In his mind, Steven traced the highway as it snaked farther to the northeast, headed toward Lexington and Charlottesville.

  And him.

  His father’s face loomed in his mind’s eye.

  He’s only fourteen miles and two right turns away.

  “Steven.” Audrey rested her hand on Steven’s shoulder, breaking his reverie.

  “Yeah?”

  “Come with me. You’ll want to see this.”

  “What is it?”

  “Live footage on CNN. It’s happening now.”

  Steven followed Audrey to the opposite corner of the waiting area and sat between her and Archie. Within seconds, the television report made clear what had left Audrey at such a loss for words.

  “An earthquake fifty miles off the coast of California has resulted in the first significant tsunami to hit the west coast in over forty years.

  “The largest earthquake previously recorded in the northern hemisphere, the Great Alaskan Earthquake of 1964, resulted in twenty-foot waves that struck various locations all along the west coast. California was hit the hardest, and one of the state’s oldest communities, Crescent City, took the brunt of the disaster with damage in the millions and a total of eleven dead.

  “Unfortunately, that number is miniscule when compared with the estimated death toll today in Long Beach. Reports are coming in now that push the projected number of fatalities into triple digits and…”

  “Jesus,” Steven said.

  “It’s terrible.” Audrey’s voice trembled. “All those people.”

  “What’s done is done,” Archie said. “All we can do for them now is pray.”

  “You know,” Audrey whispered, “you always think this kind of stuff happens to somebody else, far away from anything you know. Then one day the Twin Towers fall to the ground or a hurricane almost takes New Orleans off the map or a tidal wave puts Santa Monica underwater and all of a sudden it’s—”

  “All too real.”

  Not only was Steven not surprised by the familiar voice, he had been waiting for it. He peered across his shoulder and offered a quiet, “Hello, Grey.”

  “Good morning, Steven.” Perched behind their couch in his usual out-of-season grey overcoat and hat, Steven’s mentor watched the telecast, arms crossed and eyes disheartened. “As you can see,” he said, “it has begun.”

  “This is Grey?” Audrey looked the new arrival up and down, her mouth turned down in a quizzical frown. Before anyone could answer her, she posed a second question. “What’s begun?”

  Archie cut in, his voice full of fire. “Don’t you see? This is how it starts. The great upheaval, the latest in the eternal series of corrections.”

  Steven wasn’t sure which he found more unnerving, Archie’s odd comprehensi
on of the events in play, or the glee with which he spoke of what was potentially the end of the world.

  “Is he right, Grey? All those lives, is it our fault?”

  “These events are not your fault, Steven, though the Bishop speaks true. The shift along the Pacific basin that led to the catastrophe you now witness is indeed evidence of the very forces the Game was designed to contain, control, and dissipate.

  “For weeks, the signs have abounded. Colossal downpours in southern Texas. Drought and record temperatures across your southeastern states. Crop failure that has plagued your nation’s breadbasket throughout this entire growing season.

  “While the destruction along your west coast is the initial occurrence of any significant magnitude, make no mistake. The tsunami is not an isolated event, but the first of many such catastrophes. As time passes, these disasters will grow in force and scale, and unless the Game is played out at its appointed time, the devastation that ensues will make today’s tragedy and the dozens of lives lost seem inconsequential.”

  “Inconsequential?” Audrey said. “This is crazy. People are dying. We need to warn them, the news, the government, somebody.” Even as she spoke, a sad realization dawned upon her face and her impassioned rant ended in whispered certainty. “They’d never believe us.”

  “They never do.” Grey doffed his hat and took a seat.

  “There will be one difference this time though,” Archie said.

  “And what’s that?” Audrey asked.

  “In the past, the forces in question were responsible for countless unexplained phenomena. Great floods. The disappearance of continents from the face of the earth. The eradication of entire races, entire species even.” Archie met Grey’s gaze. “In the past, such events were often seen as the handiwork of the gods, and as a result have been relegated to the realm of myth, legend, folklore.

  “Those people and places once existed, but if remembered at all, they are today dismissed as fiction, their toils faded by the obscurity of millennia.” Archie gestured at the ongoing coverage of the California tsunami. “This time the world will watch disaster after disaster unfold from the relative comfort of their living rooms, all of it brought to them in high definition with exquisite detail and minute by minute updates, that is until the cataclysm comes for them.

  “If you remember, in 1999, the world became a paranoid madhouse of doom seekers based on nothing but the irrational belief of a select few zealots and the off chance some unforeseen computer glitch might bring life as we know it to a screeching halt. What do you think the same people are going to do when confronted with irrefutable proof that this time, the end is actually coming?”

  The room grew silent as grainy footage of a woman’s body being dragged from a waterlogged car flashed across the screen.

  Steven grunted. “I can’t believe you people had the balls to call this a Game.”

  The doors to the ICU swung open. Lena strode out, her body in better condition than the tattered clothes draped about her. She smiled when she spotted Steven and the others. Emilio followed in her wake, though his reaction at seeing the party of four gathered around the television was far less enthusiastic.

  “They finally finished all my discharge papers,” Lena said, “though my doctor still isn’t convinced it’s the best idea for me to go. I don’t think he knows what to make of all this. Almost kept me another night for observation.”

  “They cut me loose as well.” Emilio shot a hard look at Grey. “So, mystery man, funny how you always show up after the shit hits the fan.”

  The unbridled anger in Emilio’s voice surprised Steven, but only so much. The timing of Grey’s frequent entrances and exits hadn’t been lost on him either.

  “Good to see you both on your feet,” Steven interjected in an effort to change the subject. “None the worse for wear?”

  “I’m fine,” Lena said. “So, what’s next?”

  “What’s next,” Emilio said, “is we’re taking you back to Baltimore.”

  Lena turned on him, her eyes afire. “We’ve already had this discussion.”

  “But—”

  “No buts about it. No way I’m sitting home while you’re God knows where, risking your life over this stupid Game. Like it or not, I’m a part of this, as much as you, and till it’s over, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

  Emilio slid his hands into his pockets and stared at the floor. “It was almost over last night.” His face flushed in hopeless frustration. “Can one of you try to talk some sense into her? She won’t listen to me.”

  “Lena—” Steven said.

  “Save it, Steven.” Lena crossed her arms. “If Emilio goes, I go. It’s as simple as that.”

  Archie rose from his seat, his hands out in a conciliatory gesture. “Now, now, the young lady has made up her mind. No sense in arguing the point.”

  Placated for the moment, Lena moved into the circle and took a seat in the plush chair opposite the couch. Emilio, conversely, stood his ground, and remained sullen and quiet. Steven tried to catch his eye, understanding more than he cared to remember about the emotions boiling in the young man’s gut, but found his sympathetic gaze met with something more akin to hate.

  “Lena.” Audrey broke the tense silence. “Something’s been on my mind since we arrived here. I didn’t ask before because you had just woken up, but…” She stopped for a moment, her face all screwed up with equal parts fear and hope. “Do you have any idea what happened to my mom and grandpa? Steven said you were the last one who might have seen them.”

  “Sorry.” Lena sucked air in through her teeth. “I made sure they both got out of the house before I went back to help Steven and Emilio. Your mom was frantic, insisting on going back for you. It was all your grandfather and I could do to keep her from running back into the fire. Then the battle started. I told them to run and not look back. That’s the last I saw of them.”

  “Did they say where they were going?” Audrey asked.

  “Not that I… wait. Your mom said a name… Polly?”

  “Polly? That’s our neighbor up the street. They must have gone to her house to take cover.” Audrey’s face filled with hope. “Does anybody have a phone?”

  Steven shook his head, his phone one of the many casualties in his initial encounter with the Black Queen. Emilio said his had gone missing in the previous night’s battle while Lena pointed to the rags about her shoulders that twenty-four hours before had been a decent set of clothes. When Audrey turned to Archie, the priest chuckled.

  “Sorry, child, but I’m the last person you ought to ask. Not that they would have let me keep it down on four, but I don’t even own one.”

  “Well,” Audrey said, “since we’re apparently the only six people in the nation not sporting a mobile phone, I guess I’ll run down to the lobby and see what I can find. Be back in a minute.” Audrey turned to walk away when an unexpected voice cut in.

  “Here.” Grey produced a small silver flip phone from an inner pocket of his voluminous overcoat and held it out to Audrey. “Use mine.”

  Surprised, Audrey took the phone and made her way over to the window.

  Steven let out an incredulous laugh. “You have a cell phone.”

  “Does not everyone these days?” Grey’s face betrayed the slightest hint of a smile. “I keep it around for such occasions.”

  “You keep a cell phone handy in case the world decides to blow up?” Emilio asked.

  “More or less.” Grey’s smile widened, and despite their collective despair, they laughed.

  All of them.

  Though the laughter lasted but a moment, it was a moment that each of them needed.

  “So,” Steven asked, “what do we do now?”

  “The next Piece awaits,” Grey said. “Zed has no doubt grown desperate watching his opening gambit fail at every turn. You must be wary.”

  “Something doesn’t make sense,” Steven said. “He didn’t even try this time.” Both his and Grey’s gazes s
hot to Archie who was busy sharing a joke with Lena. “And when we were at our lowest. What do you make of that?”

  “I don’t know, Steven, but I fear that—” Grey stopped as Audrey rejoined the group, her face pale and eyes wide with panic. “Audrey. What is it, my dear?”

  “They never made it.” Her hands trembled as she returned Grey his phone. “I finally reached Polly. The whole town’s been out at the house since the wee hours of the night putting out fires and sifting through ashes, but no one has seen Mom or Grandpa since the festival yesterday morning.” Audrey choked back tears. “Polly was sure I’d been burned alive.” Her frantic gaze shifted back and forth from Steven to Grey. “What’s happened to them?”

  Steven opened his mouth to say anything that might assuage Audrey’s fears, and found himself at a loss for words. Every scenario he imagined was worse than the one before.

  After moments of staring into Audrey’s pleading eyes, Grey vocalized what all of them were thinking. “I fear your family has been taken by the Black.” Cold. Matter of fact. Very different from the fatherly tone he evinced moments before. “Fortunately, and remember I have known our enemy for longer than you can imagine, I suspect your mother and grandfather still live. Dead, they would serve no purpose but to bring vengeance down upon his head. Even Zed respects the unbridled power of a Queen’s wrath. Living, though—”

  “They become pawns in a game they can’t possibly understand.” Anger rose in Steven’s throat, swept away a moment later by a cold realization. “Lena, remember when we talked before and decided calling your family was a bad idea?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Scratch that. Get on Grey’s phone and call home right now. Tell them to drop whatever they’re doing and get out of town. You too, Emilio, anybody you can think of who might have a bullseye on their back. I have a feeling our friends in black may be changing their tactics a bit.”

  “The only person I’ve got left is standing right here,” Emilio said. “You still plan on letting her tag along—”