by W. A. R.
Endgame:
Alekhine’s Gun
©2017 by A. N. Ray
Definition-Alekhine's Gun
Noun
A formation in chess that consists of placing the two rooks stacked one behind another and the queen at the rear. This can lead to massive damage to the opponent as it usually marks the beginning of the final assault.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Prologue
“Well, well, well…” he heard one of the guards ahead of him call out. Justin. Brian slowly lifted his head in response, in curiosity, of the man’s tone of voice. The enemy was everywhere, he knew, with many more prisoners like him; men, women, and children alike. Some were beaten like him, others simply distraught. It even appeared as if some of the women were taken advantage of, their clothes ripped and barely held together, bruised on their cheeks, arms, legs. The thought only served to anger Brian and make him sick. He drifted in and out of consciousness as they drug him up the bridge. Everything hurt. “What have we here?”
“Oh shit!” another man exclaimed from somewhere behind him and he felt a pair of hands tighten on his right arm. “Is that Damien?” Damien? If Brian wasn’t awake yet, he was then. He turned his head, his good eye searching for the son of a bitch that corrupted all his people. What was he doing there? How? Amber had destroyed him…hadn’t she? He suddenly felt weaker than he already was and the voices of all the men around him began growing louder and overlapping. This went on for minutes, Brian trying to trudge through the foggy vision and the blurred thoughts. Justin’s eyes had widened in surprise and maybe fear as he and someone talked. Brian couldn’t make out the words.
“That’s Damien alright…damn…”
“Did he just say she was infected?”
“For how long?”
“Brian?!” he heard a voice call out through the noise and suddenly he was jerked forward, his feet dragging the asphalt behind him. Amber. It was Amber. She was there…but what was she doing? Where was everyone else? He wanted to call out to his sister but he couldn’t. He couldn’t find the strength. He felt relieved that she was safe and he felt tears snake their way down his face. She was alive…she was here. He was jostled around other men as he was pulled to the front of the large group, some taking out Biters, others watching the scene before them. Brian kept searching until finally he found her. She stood, her legs pressed back against the concrete barrier on the bridge. She wore a bright red tank top; filth covered, torn, and caked with what appeared to be blood, and her usual ponytail. She was scared, it was evident, and had been crying, but there was also no mistaking her resolve. His mind screamed to him that she had been who Justin was talking to. He appeared fascinated and scared all at once and Brian wondered what he had missed.
“Drop him there.” He heard Justin say and the two men released him. He fell to his knees facing Amber as she held a very damaged Damien against her, gun to his head. What was she planning to do? She looked on at Brian, her eyes expressing her worry and the depth of love that she held for her brother. His sister had come to try to save him.
“Brian?” she gasped, pain evident in her voice. He turned his good eye up to her. “Oh Brian…are you alright?”
“Amber…” he trailed off, his tongue like sandpaper against the roof of his mouth. He couldn’t speak any more than that, any more than her name. He tried to nod but his head swam and he shifted dizzily on his knees. She turned back to Justin, her eyes flashing and filled with pain.
“What have you done to him?” she spat out and Justin merely shrugged, clasping his hands behind his back. Brian tried to loosen the binds that held him. She was going to die. She was outnumbered. They were going to take her hostage like him. He couldn’t let that happen.
“Nothing near what they have done to me.” Justin replied thickly and Amber scoffed, her eyes scrutinizing every facet of his face.
“I think it has to be an improvement. Anyone with a heart as ugly as yours has to be just as physically disdainful.” She replied and Justin scowled, shifting on his feet. That was his sister, always sticking up for others and always still so compassionate that she would do so without second thought, Brian praised mentally, and yet still he could see the hardness that settled itself within her eyes. She was different; she was hurt. “Where are the others?” Things were silent for a moment as Justin studied the woman before him. He felt as if he couldn’t breathe then; Miles and Shelly hadn’t found Amber. She had no idea where they were or what had happened. He grew hot and fevered, his thoughts blurring together as so many emotions cascaded over him. A man to his left moved a little and Brian looked up at him, sure that he was advancing towards his sister. The impact was immediate, the realization of who he was. There was no doubt who this man was; he was identical to his father whenever his father was younger. It was Michael.
Miles had said that his son was part of the enemy, that he had personally been the one to knock Miles unconscious, but Brian hadn’t fully believed him; couldn’t accept the fact that not only was his son actually alive but he was also part of this. And now, here he stood beside Brian, his eyes filled with hate for the woman before him, gun in hand. Was Damien her bargaining chip or were they simply toying with her? He didn’t know; all he really knew for certain was that she needed to get out of there immediately. She glanced at the man, at Michael, and he saw her eyes waver at him. She appeared…terrified of the young man to his side.
“Dead.” He deadpanned and Amber flinched only slightly, the gun she had pressed against Damien’s head wavering just the slightest. Still, through Brian’s blurry vision he could make out tears filling her eyes at his words. “They tried to escape and they died doing so…”
“You’re lying!” she spat out bitterly, pain lacing every word.
“I wish I were. I would have loved for them come with us to the compound.” Justin replied and she jerked the gun to him, her hands trembling. Brian tried to speak, tried to stop her but nothing came out. His tongue was heavy and sluggish, unwilling to cooperate with him.
“They are not dead and my people aren’t going with you.” She demanded harshly, clearly in denial; refusing to accept his declaration. Justin merely laughed at her threat before shifting on his feet and twisting his hands in a nervous habit behind his back where she couldn’t see them. Was…was Justin afraid of her?
“Surely you don’t think you will make it out of here alive…much less with your people…or shall I say ‘person’.” He replied, avoiding the subject of the others being dead. Amber brought the gun back to rest on Damien’s head. Damien didn’t fight her, but he did appear frightened. Blood coated his clothing, and his broken bones were obvious. His swollen and flaming red stubs where fingers once were screamed out painfully at Brian, as did the burns on his face, t
he blood and burned place on the side of his head where his ear had been.
“I have Damien. I will make a trade. I will trade Damien for my three people.”
Justin frowned then, making certain she saw the resolve in his eyes. “I already told you that Brian is the only one left alive. I killed them both myself for the personal hell that they put me through.” And she studied him for a long moment before the realization settled on her. It was true, and he felt everything within him shake down to his very core. No, it couldn’t be. But she believed it. Her bottom lip quivered as she tried so desperately to keep it together. “Which reminds me, where are the rest of your people? Waiting to ambush us? I must say, they are brave to take on all of us and our automatic weapons.”
Amber swallowed then, her eyes darting between Michael and Justin. “You…you son of a bitch…” she growled hotly at Michael. “You and your people killed them all.” She whimpered slightly. She was losing it, losing control. Brian could tell she was going downhill fast. “Didn’t you brag about doing it? Lance would have. I should know. I got to know him a little before I took his life.” Brian felt everything inside of him grow cold. No…no…she was lying. She had to be. He looked at her face, watching as it twisted and crumpled into hate and anger, fire and rage and ice and pain. She…she wasn’t lying. Tears left his eyes and coated his cheeks and he hung his head low. Amber and Brian, brother and sister, were the last ones alive. Their entire family was gone, in ruins, turned into monsters or killed on the spot.
“You know nothing. You killed an innocent man!” Michael then shouted and she visibly dug her feet into the concrete, tears now spilling down her face. Justin watched the interaction with interest. Brian wanted nothing more than to either kill them all or throw himself from the bridge, falling to his death in the water from the roughly 150-foot drop.
“He took away my family and killed good people! He was far from innocent!” she all but screamed and Michael bowed up to her, threatening to close the distance between the two of them. Brian watched as his hold on the gun tightened.
“It is for the greater good!” Michael yelled back at her. “And had the rest of your family cooperated, we wouldn’t have been forced to kill them either!”
“You killed them all? When was this?” Justin asked then, amused at this turn of events. Michael never tore his eyes from Amber.
“We were looking for food at a store…starving and they just…” she choked on a sob. “They just came out of nowhere…they killed them all…” she sniffled and sobbed, coughing and biting her bottom lip. Her face was twisted with so much pain that he just knew she was going to break down. “Your people have taken away my children…my parents…my friends…”
“And your people have taken away our friends too!” Michael replied hotly.
“We did it to protect ourselves!”
“And we did it to provide a better future for those better suited for it.” Michael growled in response. Amber’s hands were shaking and the gun quaked in her hand. Her knees were bent a little, and Brian knew she was weakening. “Now why don’t you come with us?”
Justin grinned maliciously. “Considering the circumstances, Adrian would be very…demanding of your arrival.”
She ignored his statement. “You and Lance will burn in hell for what you’ve done.” She spat, her voice low and threatening.
Justin studied Damien then; Damien, who was so scared that Brian could have sworn he could hear his heart beat over his own racing one. “Damien? Where were you when all of this happened?”
Amber looked harshly at him. “I cut out his fucking tongue.” A wicked smile formed on her lips; it was a look Brian never thought possible of her. “He can’t talk. But I can tell you were he was.” She rammed the gun harder against his head and the man whimpered. “He was locked up in a house, alone; being feasted on by whatever creature could get to him until I returned with different forms of torture. Isn’t that right Damien?” He closed his eyes tightly and whimpered even more so as she pulled harder at his hair, jerking his head back. He was so close that he and Amber were nearly cheek to cheek.
Justin narrowed his eyes at her, clearly angry at this treatment of Damien. “Adrian won’t take too kindly to you torturing his only son.”
Amber’s eyebrows lifted in response to this and Justin winced, realizing he had just made a mistake. She laughed hotly. “He is Adrian’s son. Oh, this is delicious. You mean to tell me that while you were killing everyone IMPORTANT TO ME…” she yelled those last words angrily, causing Justin to flinch and she dug the barrel of the gun deeper into Damien’s hair and flesh. “…that I had his son as my prisoner? This entire time? I should just kill him now and end this.”
“Amber…we both know you aren’t going to kill him.” Michael coaxed her, his eyes malicious. The false sincerity was driving Brian nuts. “Just hand him over, as well as yourself, and we can let this whole thing go. You can stay with Brian.”
Amber looked between the two men, no reluctance in her features. “No? You think I won’t? You have all taken away everything that matters to me. I’m dying anyways. What do I have left to lose?” she asked appearing suddenly so defeated that it hurt Brian to witness it. He wanted to die, to leave this world. She was going to die, and he would be left completely and utterly alone in the cruel twist of fate that was his life. He was torn into shreds as he sat on his knees and watched his sister, his kind and compassionate sister, pull the trigger on the gun. Damien’s head jerked to the side, splattering blood and brain matter on her ear, her shoulder, and she gripped his shirt, slinging him to the left. His dead and limp body twisted and fell from the bridge. Brian watched this wide eyed. She had never even flinched when she did this; no, her eyes remained on Justin. There was no remorse, no consideration, and no disgust. She wore his blood and brain matter like a medal. She lifted her pistol and aimed it at Justin then, who quickly, along with Michael, lifted his own gun and aimed it at her.
“What have you done!?” Justin exclaimed, angry and frightened.
Amber cocked her head to the side. “Give me my brother or you’re next.” She spat out, her voice quaking with unadulterated emotion.
Justin shook his head, leveling his gun at her. “Not on your life, bitch. You are coming with us.”
“Have it your way.” She said bitterly, squeezing the trigger once again.
Brian winced as three gunshots were heard simultaneously. It happened so fast and he saw two things at once. He saw Justin fall to the ground, clutching his forearm, and crying out in pain. She was so close, Brian thought, how could she have missed; but he saw it. He saw a bullet hit her just as she shot Justin. The bullet caught her and she jerked back to the right, gun flying from her hand and her body toppled over the edge of the barrier to the water below; enduring a fall that would kill her. Brian stared in horror.
“NOOOO!!!” he screamed roughly, his throat crying out in agony. He struggled as best as he could to get up and go towards the railing but he only fell feebly to his chest, tears dripping onto the asphalt below him. Men were surrounding Justin then, helping him stand and Michael lowered his gun before replacing it in his holster. That was it. Brian was alone. His fiancé…gone…niece, nephew, mother, father…all gone and he had just witness his sister’s death. With this agony washing over him, he allowed his body to accept the familiar darkness awaiting him.
Chapter One
It was dark, and for a moment he suspected his eyes were still closed. Whenever he tried to open them again however, he knew that darkness was simply the room that he was in…or well, he assumed it was a room. He searched for any kind of light, his fingers fumbling and splaying out in the darkness, searching for something or…someone? Who? He questioned. He felt like he should know the answer but as much as he tried to remember their name, their face, it kept drifting further and further from his mind. His head ached and he was unsure why and the same was with his heavy heart. His memory was foggy at best and he was unsure how he ended up where
he was. Nothing…he could find nothing. Why? Where was he? How had he gotten thrown into nothingness and why was he feeling tremendous loss and…betrayal? He hurt so much…as if he wanted to die. Ugh! His mind screamed, racing as he purged every thought he had for an answer. He brought his hands back to his tender head, gripping at his long hair. Why couldn’t he remember? He needed to leave, but how can you leave never-ending darkness? He stumbled backwards, his feet sliding against…carpet? Alright, he was in a house. He turned and continued in the direction he had backed towards, his hands outstretched blindly in front of him.
He was cautious, his nerves on edge. He was becoming irritated with his lack of memory. It was hard to simply remember who he was…much less the other person or people that were nagging at his mind. Suddenly he ran hard into a wall, or what he assumed to be a wall. He stepped back, his palms pressed flat against the surface as his fingers frantically searched for a light switch. He was finally rewarded when his fingers grazed a piece of cold, square plastic on the wall. He grabbed the protruding switch between his fingertips and flicked it up. Light flashed before him, and though he had mentally prepared himself, the light was blinding. He immediately brought an arm up to shield his sensitive eyes from the force of it. He stood like that for a long moment, blinking his eyes rapidly to adjust to the brightness before lowering his arm.
He was indeed in a room, one he recognized but from where? The decorations of the room showed no real meaning to him, no connection, but as he turned towards the double French doors across the carpet, he was drawn to them. He slowly approached them, seeing that it was night out through the doors. Slowly, he placed his hands on the knobs, turning them down and pushing the doors open. The cool night breeze hit him and he glanced around him. He was on a balcony. His balcony…their balcony. Theirs? He questioned himself, but his silent question was soon answered as he heard a door open behind him. He jerked around, stumbling on his nervous feet. He fell to his hands and knees, facing the intruder.
