by W. A. R.
His son helped him ease her troubled mind….
His son was dead…hadn’t he died?...
He found her again and again without fail…
…his son was alive and he watched as he left to kill her…
“NOOO!!!!” Miles bellowed through the tears, his chest hurting and lungs burning. He needed air…he couldn’t breathe. He remembered everything…every little thing. The bodies on the floor…oh God it ached… “What have you done?” Miles asked angrily, bringing into question his sudden appearance as the enemy. Drool began stretching from the corner of his mouth to the floor at his hands. His face was red and his body trembled but he couldn’t move. He gasped for air, unable to stop his eyes from watering, unable to stop the saliva dripping from his bottom lip. The tears burned his flesh, ripping into his face like knives, scarring his cheeks.
“What I had to. You left me…and now I have found the future of this world with those people.” Michael told him roughly, stretching his hand out towards the woman behind Miles. “It just so happens to be at the cost of everyone you ever cared about.” Miles reached up behind him and desperately clutched at Amber’s dress, willingly her silently not to approach his son. His hands didn’t want to work and he couldn’t find air. His body was betraying him, just as his son had done. She lowered herself to her knees and placed her hands against his shoulders, her thumbs caressing him. The man lowered his hand to his side, frowning. “You didn’t recognize me because you hate me now…you hate the fact that every person you see in this room is someone I took from you.” He told Miles, kneeling to his level. Miles felt fury and horror rage through him and he wanted to stop it, but couldn’t. Michael smiled wickedly at his turmoil. “I have taken their lives and refused to give you any chance to save them. You hate me because you see your failure in me and you despise it. You try to block me from your memory but it won’t work Dad…it simply won’t because I will always be there.” His words were venomous and Miles began to feel light headed. He dropped his hand from Amber’s dress to the carpet and groaned, struggling to breathe in but he couldn’t.
“Are you going to dance now? This is your party after all.” Amber asked softly as Michael again reached his hand to her, but she didn’t move. Instead, her eyes were intent on Miles, awaiting his answer. What was she asking really? She couldn’t be serious about the dancing…so what was she really hinting at? His lungs burned and he felt faint and he was unable to formulate a response, regardless of how badly he wanted to. He turned his bloodshot eyes to her pleadingly and she smiled warmly down at him. And then it happened…Miles watched painfully, unable to budge, as she took Michael’s waiting hand, standing and removing her other hand from his shoulder. She stepped forward towards Michael and Miles screamed in his mind, begging her to stop. Michael had killed her family, had hurt them all and she was going to waltz with him? Her dressed dipped dangerously low in the back and he caught a glimpse of her tattoo on her side, the climbing roses, before Michael wrapped a possessive arm around her waist. Yet still, his eyes were riveted to what he could see of the tattoo. She turned and caught his gaze and she nodded as if she approved, as if she were telling him something important with just her eyes. Michael grinned deviously and pulled her closer to him, slowly swaying her to the rhythm of an unknown song while Miles watched, his vison darkening from the lack of oxygen. What was happening to him? He panicked, clutching the carpet and the couple before him danced among the bodies, their feet never touching the corpses, or even the blood.
“D…Don’t…” Miles choked out, but the pair didn’t stop. Amber merely tossed him a sorrowful glance and Michael…he never turned his way. He was struggling with every bit of willpower he had to stop them…to do anything to prevent it from happening.
“Don’t what?” Michael asked teasingly. Miles knew what was going to happen to her, and yet he couldn’t move, couldn’t save her.
“Hur…hurt…he…r…” he stammered through clenched teeth. His words were slurred, and with every breath he breathed through his mouth he felt saliva move against his bloating lips.
Amber frowned sadly at him from over Michael’s shoulder, her dress flowing with every move the pair made. “Miles…I know what I’m doing…I’m waiting for you…” she told him gently, quoting the verse randomly. “You have to trust me.” She told him as Michael dipped her back. She let her head fall back, her blonde hair flowing like a waterfall to the bloodstained carpet. Michael glanced at Miles and grinned wildly, pulling a gun from thin air. Miles felt his eyes widen as Michael held Amber firmly by the waist, their legs pressing against one another as he lifted the gun. Their hold on one another was intimate and it made him sick. Amber turned her head slowly, looking at Miles, everything inside of him freezing. “Trust me.” She whispered and Michael pulled the trigger. She jerked her head back as the bullet traveled from under her chin to the crown of her head. Instantly, Michael dropped her limp body and turned to face Miles.
His grin was wicked as he spoke, but Miles couldn’t tear his eyes from the dead woman on the floor. “That’s what she gets for dancing with the devil.” Michael said bitingly before turning and leaving the room, leaving Miles with the loss of a thousand lifetimes. Miles felt his vision finally darken completely and he fainted, feeling nothing but hopelessness and unbearable agony.
“Miles?...He’s having a bad dream. Wake him up before they come in.” A deep, urgent voice spoke. It was barely more than a whisper, but it was clear in Miles’s ears. The air was biting cold as his eyes snapped open and came back to reality. He was drenched in sweat, fear, and heartache. He jerked his head wildly about him, unsure of where he was; his dream still vivid in his thoughts. Darkness surrounded him apart from sunlight surrounding the outline of a door across the way from him. His breathing was rapid and shallow, his chest hurting and his head throbbing with a dull ache. He was sitting on a carpeted floor, leaning against the wall. He closed his eyes. It was just a dream…it was all just a dream…it wasn’t real…it couldn’t be real. He told himself over and over until his breathing became more even.
“Miles calm down. They’ll hear you.” Another voice, slightly higher, whispered instantly from his left. He refused to look at the speaker. It had to be a horrible remnant of his imagination. His son was dead…had never betrayed him and killed innocent people. Amber was waiting on the other side of that door for him. He went to stand, to reach forward and he couldn’t. His feet were bound, as were his hands. His eyes widened and his nose stung with the coming tears.
“No, no, no…” he whispered as he struggled against his confines. His mouth was incredibly dry, his tongue like sandpaper against the roof of his mouth.
“Miles please calm down.” The woman to his left begged worriedly. Her voice held concern and angst and it reached out to him. He knew that voice. He turned to look at her in the dim lighting and he felt a heavy weight settle on his chest, making it harder to breathe.
“Shelly?” he asked incredulously. She stared back at him with big sorrowful eyes. “What happened?” he entreated of her and she turned from him, glancing across the room where another voice originated. His mind flashed painfully.
…Shelly simply glared at the man, refusing to speak to him. He then leaned forward and pressed his lips against her ear, whispering hotly against her skin. “I know your little secret.” …
“Damien ambushed us.” The voice rumbled angrily, defeated. Miles turned his gaze to the other side of the room and felt the weight press harder.
…Disbelief passed through Miles, betrayal, and most of all…fear…Damien had helped kill Jackson and Rick…he had planned all of this…he was going to hurt them all and they couldn’t get away…
“Brian?”
His brother, his friend, stood, chained to the ceiling and floor on the other side of the room. He remembered when he had first met Brian McDermott, when he had met Amber; the memories of his dream, of their past washing over him like shards of glass. He hissed against the pain radiating
in his head. This man, his friend, was across the room from him, watching as Miles tried to recall everything that had happened. He closed his eyes, images coming back to him in pieces.
… “It isn’t always this way and as a leader you can change that. You can be part of the solution.”
“I’d rather die first.” Brian growled…
The defeated man across the room nodded and lowered his head. “So, everything…it really happened?” Miles asked slowly and Shelly nodded in answer to his question.
… “You’ve made promises you can’t keep. Isn’t your failure to them disappointing?” the man had asked…
Miles swallowed, stopping his movements, his frail attempts toward freedom. “Where are we? Any idea?”
Shelly shrugged. “No. I woke up just a few hours ago and I woke up here.” She turned her frightened doe-like eyes to Brian. “Brian got up first last night. He was already in the room too.”
“So, we have no idea what happened after they knocked us out?” he asked and he had to admit, the thought worried him. He wasn’t sure how long he had been out, what he had missed. He had been tied up, unconscious, unable to fight for the people he cared about most. Shelly shook her head in response to his question and he felt saddened. He studied her, noting that the only ailments she seemed to have were tearstains on her face. Shelly sat on the floor like him, hands behind her back, feet stretched together in front of her. He turned to Brian, noting a black eye and a bloodied scalp, a dried crimson river spread out on the side of his face. “What happened to you?”
Brian glanced up at Shelly and sighed. “I was the first to wake up so they took me in for questioning because they hadn’t heard from ‘Lance’.” He spoke his name as if it disgusted and angered him to say it. Miles winced at the memory that flashed through him yet again.
… “Oh and by the way, my name is Lance and you are in my world now.” His eyes drifted over each of them. “I suggest you learn to stay on my good side. It would benefit you in the end.” …
“As soon as I was up, I was fighting.” He paused, his grey eyes settling on the love of his life across the room. She stared back at him sadly. “They chained me instead of tying me. Said they couldn’t have me fighting…said they would hate to deliver me damaged.” His words dripped with obvious distaste. “So, they chained me. It was a few more hours when Shelly woke up and as soon as she did, I warned her about what they were doing so every time they come in to check, she pretends to be unconscious. It’s working so far, which means you need to stay quiet and should probably do the same.” Shelly shifted where she sat and Miles glanced at her. She wanted to argue with Brian, Miles knew, about his orders. Brian was taking the brunt of the brutality while she had been ‘dead to the world’. In reality, every time he was dragged from the room and questioned, she heard the blows that came to him and his pain-filled exclamations.
Miles sighed and turned back to him, uncertainty gnawing at his nerves. Here they were, caught and chained like wild animals and held within the confines of a room with no sun, no food, no water…they had absolutely nothing. They were captives then, unable to protect those that they cared about most; if they were even still alive, for that matter. And then another thought hit his foggy mind: Was his son past that door? Was Michael the one that had caused Brian physical pain? He shook his head, quickly shoving that thought from his mind.
“How long have I been out?” he asked as softly as he could, his voice cracking, his throat protesting from the lack of moisture.
Brian winced before answering. “At least a day. I’m not entirely sure.”
Miles shifted on the carpet, his eyes begging Brian for an answer he wanted to hear. “Amber and the kids?” he asked almost hesitantly, part of him not wanting to know the answer; but he had to know, they had to be alright.
Brian shifted his gaze from Miles’s eyes so fast that Miles briefly wondered if Brian was ever really looking at him. “I…I don’t know.” He said softly and Miles sank against the wall he was leaning against. He was too late. It had been a day…an entire day...with no word from ‘Lance’ about how things had gone. He lowered his head, feeling utterly defeated. “The radio is on the other side of this wall.” Brian nodded towards the wall behind him before continuing. “They have been trying to reach their people all morning, but there hasn’t been anything.”
Amber McDermott. His sweet angel of darkness. Where was she? He wondered. Was she lying there motionless on the ground, staring into oblivion, or was she trudging away, injured from battle? Either thought hurt him, though her possible death made him die on the inside. He closed his eyes tightly, the pain stemming from the knot on his head making it hard to focus, to think. He tried desperately to gather his thoughts, to gather the facts. His head was throbbing, a sharp ache radiating across the length of his skull, from the base to his forehead. He groaned, closing his eyes tightly. Even worse, however, was the emotional turmoil he was in. His heart was finally slowing from his dream, but it still sunk lower with the stunning realization that he and Brian and Shelly were alone and in the dark on what happened with the rest of their family.
Miles nodded absent-mindedly, his mind trying to pull together and accept everything that he was hearing. He needed to know everything, absolutely everything that was happening. He licked his dry lips and cleared his throat. “Have you heard anything else? What happened when they took you back?”
Brian glanced towards the door almost anxiously. “They asked where their people were, why they hadn’t answered. They asked where our people were, if we knew.” He paused, turning back to Miles as if reading his troubled thoughts. “I’m not sure what happened…I wish I knew. I overheard them talking. That sorry son of a bitch should have already been back. He should have told them he had the others by now.” Brian’s voice filled with emotion and Miles thought he might cry. Miles felt defeated, like doing the same. The not knowing was driving him mad…but then again, he reasoned, it might be best if he didn’t know. Ignorance was bliss.
His mind slowly began to pick up pieces. If they hadn’t heard from their own people then that meant Lance and his people were either dead or did not have access to their radios, and judging by the urgency they seemed to issue when questioning Brian, they were worried about the outcome of the situation. Amber may have been able to make it back in time take them down…they may have had something planned.
“Alright, listen…” he began in a harsh whisper, his brain slowly waking, coming back to life. Memories and thoughts flowed through him like liquor: burning and smooth, and he became drunk on the optimism of it all, the possibilities that they offered. He wasn’t sure how to explain what he had seen, or what he thought may have happened, but he would try. “They had to have had a plan. Why else would Lance be avoiding the radio?”
Brian quickly jerked his head to Miles, effectively cutting him off. “What?” he asked loudly. Shelly stiffened beside Miles as Brian froze, glancing at the door. Brian’s eyes shone with fresh tears of hatred as they waited in baited silence to see if they had drawn attention. Five minutes passed by with no sound from the other side of the door before Brian turned back to Miles. “A plan? How could they have known anything like this was going to happen in order to make a plan? If they had a plan, why didn’t they tell us?”
It was rapid fire; his questioning and Miles couldn’t blame him. They had been ambushed, taken advantage of after fighting valiantly. So how could the others have known? How could they have made it? There was so much at play that even Miles was unsure of what was going on. He found it hard to settle on one thought because each one, if considered for too long, burned him, angered him. Still, if the others had had a plan, then when did they form it? Why hadn’t they said anything to the others? Amber would have certainly told them, wouldn’t she? Then again…hadn’t she tried warning them by expressing her strong and dark feeling of foreboding?
“Brian there is nothing they could have done…” Miles began protesting as Brian lolled his he
ad back in anger and hysteria. Truth was, Miles didn’t even want her to try, to risk her life for him. He lowered his head. He only hoped that if they were still alive… (He refused to think otherwise) she wouldn’t act rashly and come after them; he hoped she would wait until they found their way back to them…until Miles found his way back to her. Not that she would, however; he knew that much. She was hard-headed and determined. He hated knowing that she would try.
“I don’t give a damn about that!” Brian snapped harshly, his chain’s rattling as he jerked his attention back to Miles. He looked so beaten and unsure that Miles’s heart twisted at the sight. “They did the right thing. Those sadistic assholes would have gotten them too. The fact is…it’s that…Amber knows what happened to us. She lost us and has to know how it happened…”
Shelly intervened then, her shoulders trembling. “She may know, yeah, but she knows that we tried. We were strong and we fought them until we couldn’t fight them anymore.” Miles watched her, unsure of whether she was angry or saddened, but she was right. Brian turned his head to her, to his one and only, and upon seeing the resolve in her eyes, sighed.
“Can you imagine how she felt? Defeated…overrun.” Brian said, almost to himself as he lowered his head and closed his eyes.
… “Brian? Miles? Are you there?” Amber’s voice belted out, unsure, from the radio Miles had clipped onto his bag. Miles started, surprised at hearing her trembling voice. He shut his eyes tightly as the silence reigned on. “Hello? Anybody there?” Her voice was urgent and frightened…
Miles couldn’t help the sudden pride he felt. “And furious.” He said, and he knew that he was right. She would have been beyond angry, livid. The corners of his mouth lifted at these sudden realizations. “The radio in the store…she was trying to warn us.” he stated and Brian and Shelly looked at him, the same epiphany occurring to them.
“She knew something was going to happen…” Shelly began, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Brian picked up her thought.
