by W. A. R.
“A shock?” Miles asked loudly. “Are you kidding me? You kidnapped us and our entire family is in danger if they aren’t already dead. I know you are taking us away to become experiments, to torture us, or even to kill us in your twisted little town. I’d say this is more than a fucking shock.” Miles growled. He could feel his anger building though he tried desperately to tamp it down.
Ryder and Cory both looked at a loss, ashamed and even a little thoughtful. “I’m sorry for everything you all have to go through, Miles. I truly am, but we are trying to find our people. Do you know where they might be?” Ryder effectively changed the course of subject and avoided all of Miles’s questions and statements. They wouldn’t answer him, wouldn’t address his concerns. He wasn’t even sure why he thought they would.
“I don’t know where they are. Dead, hopefully.” He stated, and he noted no hostile reaction from either man. Mile was once again left confused and frustrated.
He had expected more: more anger, more hostility but there was none. He narrowed his eyes at these two men. They wanted to know where their people were, where Lance and his minions were. Miles didn’t know, and in fact, had no idea. Not that he would tell them that. If it kept them angry or kept his own people alive, he would play it out as long as he could. And so, he sat there, silently awaiting the next question aimed his direction. The two men stared hard at him, studying, anticipating the answer they would receive to their next question. Miles lifted a brow in challenge at them.
“Well?” he asked, prodding them to continue.
Ryder sighed, shaking his head. “Cory?”
“Where are your people?” Cory asked finally and Miles stared hard at him before scoffing.
He was trying his best to cooperate with them so he wouldn’t get chained up, he really was, but it was difficult considering the circumstances. Miles wasn’t thinking straight…instead he was reveling in his anger, his profound hatred of these people. These horrid people that had taken away his everything. He stared at them, his mind delving into the dark thoughts on the possibilities that happened to the others. He had been trying desperately to keep them, to keep Amber, from his mind, but he found it to be extremely difficult to do.
“If I knew, do you actually think I would tell you?” he asked and he noted the smirk that Ryder suddenly wore.
“Don’t expect you to. Just thought that we should ask anyways.” Ryder replied easily. Cory fidgeted in his seat.
“Well, it was nothing but a waste of your time.” Miles spat.
“Of course it was.” Cory exhaled on a heavy breath.
“What else do you want to know that I can’t or won’t answer?”
“Final time…this is Ryder and if anyone from Lance’s group is listening, radio in.” Ryder spoke into the microphone one last time, holding it firmly in his grasp. Ryder turned back in his seat and looked at Miles, shrugging. “Just where your people are or where ours are.” His words were easy as they left his mouth. It irritated Miles. Why did they act so indifferent? Why did they treat them so lowly?
“Do you think I’m weak enough to tell you anything you want to hear? That my people are weak enough not to take care of themselves?” His voice was low and menacing.
Cory’s face lit up momentarily and he leaned forward in his seat a little. “We’re hoping they aren’t weak at all.”
Fury raged in Miles as well as astonishment. Did they realize what he had said? “What is that supposed to mean?” he ground out before the radio static changed an octave. All three men froze as another voice filled the room and interrupted their heated discussion.
“Hello? Ryder? Still there?” A man’s voice sounded through the room and everyone suddenly tensed as Ryder reached slowly for the microphone, almost as if he didn’t want to. Miles felt his breathing quicken and he stared between the two men, hoping they let him stay to hear the conversation. He grew real still and silent, hoping that maybe, just maybe they would forget that he was in the room. It was a long shot, but he knew that anything was worth a shot. This was an opportunity to find out what happened to his family. He hoped Brian could hear from his position on the other side of the wall as well.
“Ryder here. Who am I speaking with and what in the hell happened?” Ryder asked and Miles shifted in his seat. Ryder seemed easy then, convinced that it was someone from Lance’s team. Miles swallowed and he felt the sting of tears behind his nose. It wasn’t fair, he thought; his family couldn’t be captured or dead. They simply couldn’t be. He gulped and glanced at Cory. Cory glanced at him and held his hand out calmly, sympathetically, motioning for him to remain calm and seated. Cory was offering him an opportunity to stay, to listen. That went without saying and Miles was grateful for that. And so, without a sound or even another thought Miles did as he was told, going still. He couldn’t risk not finding out what happened to his people.
“Hello Ryder…” Another voice sounded and as soon as it reached Miles’s ears, he was on the edge of his seat. He would recognize that voice anywhere. His heart pounded in his ears and the sting of tears grew even more profound as Cory and Ryder straightened in their seats and looked at one another. They weren’t angry, Miles noticed, and instead they seemed excited. He licked his dry lips and lowered his head, the blood roaring in his ears. The relief he felt was crippling and he found it difficult to breathe. “I don’t believe we have been properly introduced.” The voice said teasingly, the tone of voice darkening. His ears rang with the sound of her voice and he closed his eyes…his saving grace…his angel. Her words rang out in his ears and vaguely he recalled the fact that still, they were both in the dark about the turn of events that they had been through. Still, it hit him hard. She had made it. They had made it. They had gotten away. The relief was so great that tears fell from his eyes, unable to be stopped. “I’m Amber.”
Chapter Four
Amber stared briefly at Derek as he sat there in the driver’s seat of the truck. He was wide-eyed with fear and uncertainty, his hold on the microphone of the radio tight. She had rushed over, ran, driven by the urgency of his voice. The others had followed and they now stood there behind her with the same look of concern and fear that she had. She gulped. She didn’t want to touch the radio. They were looking for Lance and as soon as they knew that Lance and his men were dead, they would come looking for them. Was that a risk she was willing to take? That was a question that she couldn’t answer.
“Lance? But he’s…” Katie began before gulping. Amber shifted a little on her feet, as if ready to run.
“We know.” George interceded. He then looked at Amber. “But they don’t know that.”
“Not yet.” Buddy expressed.
“What do you mean ‘not yet’?” Bobby-Jean questioned hotly, still obviously hurt and angry from their previous conversation. “They don’t have to know anything.”
“Shouldn’t we tell them, though?” Katie asked
“Why should we?” Bobby-Jean retorted.
“Derek has already spoken to them.” George stated.
Buddy shrugged. “They don’t know he isn’t part of Lance’s team.”
“We could work something out with them. A compromise.” Katie argued and Amber stole a glance at the nervous woman to her right.
Bobby-Jean fumed. “Do you really think these people wish to compromise?”
“Ryder here. Who am I speaking with and what in the hell happened?” the radio spoke and Amber shifted where she stood. She knew what she had to do, what the best option would be.
“Hand it here.” She ordered as he handed her the microphone and vacated the driver’s seat. She eased herself into the seat, her hands trembling as she waited for a response from the other end of the communication. She wasn’t sure what she was going to say, or how she was even going to react; all she knew was that she was fuming by then, livid, and everything inside of her was on fire. She wanted to hit something, someone, but she didn’t, couldn’t.
“Amber!” her mother hissed at her. “Wh
at are you doing? They aren’t going to negotiate with you!”
Amber sighed, never looking at her. “They might. I don’t know. What I do know is that they have no idea what happened or where we are. They wouldn’t even know where to begin looking. We are safe and, well, we took down their men. We took them down and that should tell them that we mean business.”
“Are you willing to take that risk?”
“I’m willing to take any risk as long as it puts us on top or gets us closer to them.” She stated evenly. And before her mother could protest any further, she spoke. She felt the words tumble from her mouth without thinking.
“Hello Ryder…” Her words were laced with venom and she hoped they heard it. Though her hands trembled and her stomach threatened to heave, she forced herself to remain calm, and she kept her temper in check. Maybe, just maybe, if she cooperated with them as best she could they would cooperate with her. “I don’t believe we have been properly introduced.” She finally said again, closing her eyes, feeling the words leave her tongue with bitterness. She swallowed it back and again forced herself to remain calm. “I’m Amber.”
“Where is Lance?” The man name Ryder asked almost immediately. Amber hesitated, remembering how she had left him, the screams that followed the invasion of Biters. What was she thinking? Everything was happening so damned fast…
“Hmmm…Lance…” she pondered mockingly, almost thoughtful, before continuing. “He is…incapacitated…but tell me: how may I be of service?” she asked. She was insulting them, even as she didn’t mean to.
George looked at her and lifted a brow. “Are you trying to piss them off?” Sighing, she lowered her head and waited patiently for his response, ignoring the tense and wondering eyes that watched her, ignoring George’s question. She was torn between both yes and no in response to him. Yes, she wanted them to understand her pain but no, not at the expense of her people.
“Where is the rest of his group?” Ryder asked her and for a moment she considered lying to him. She turned and stole a glance at George who stood to the right, both hands on the roof of the truck, and then Buddy who leaned a shoulder against the truck, both men watching her with interest. As if reading the question in her eyes, both men nodded at her. She inhaled sharply.
“Dead.” She deadpanned. Things grew tense suddenly in the silence before she continued, scrambling to gain control. Did she want them to fear her? Most definitely. She had to prove they were strong and wouldn’t go down without a fight. “Let me count them…thirteen…no…fourteen at the house and six?” she paused, tossing a curious look at George who held six fingers up at her, nodding his agreement. “Six in the woods.” Again, silence reigned and Amber shifted in his seat, feeling so desperate that it hurt. “We had nine people to your twenty and we wiped them all out…except one. He will be paying for his sins soon enough.” She said bitingly and as the words left her mouth she realized just how very true they were. Damien would soon be suffering for everything he had done. She couldn’t look at her comrades then; she couldn’t allow them to see the hatred in her eyes, the agony that was tearing her apart.
“Can you put him on?” Ryder asked her and Amber almost laughed at the incredulous statement.
“I’m afraid I simply can’t do that.” she then hesitated, hoping she hadn’t set them off. She then sighed in resignation. Her words weren’t a complete lie but still… “I hope you understand, but he is indisposed at the moment. Will you allow me to talk to my people?” She all but demanded in question and she could almost see the man on the receiving end shift nervously on his seat. Despite herself, she wondered what those people were thinking, if they were trying to find a way to coerce her into giving them any information. She felt like mocking their failed attempts at capturing. Damn, she was so angry. She lowered her head on the steering wheel and closed her eyes.
“How did you know they were coming?” Ryder asked, and his words seemed forced. She growled under her breath, aggravated that he was avoiding her question. She needed to know that her people were alive.
“Oh now, Ryder…I don’t want to share my secrets…” she began bitterly, “…but if your people plan on killing someone…they really shouldn’t tie them to a tree and leave them for dead. That never works out like you want it to.” She mocked yet again. There was a small gasp from her mother at her words, at the fact she was mocking these people that could very well kill her brother, her sister, her lover. She swallowed the pain.
“So you found Rick?” he questioned, and if she wasn’t wrong, she could sense a small bit of…relief?...in his words. What was this man getting at?
“Of course I found Rick. Your mistake was thinking I wouldn’t.” she snapped at him, and she forced herself to loosen her tight vise on the microphone. Her hand throbbed with a dull ache.
“You’re right.” Ryder admitted briefly before continuing. “So, I take it you won’t tell us where you are?” Ryder asked her.
She was amused, if she were honest. The man understood the answers to the questions he was asking. “Only if you tell me where my people are.” She countered, completely willing to give him the answer he wanted if he gave her the answer she wanted.
“They are safe.”
Dammit. “Not helping, Ryder…”
“With us…”
A sigh. “Also not helping. Where is their location?”
Ryder hesitated. “I can’t tell you that….and neither can Damien or Lance.”
Silence. “How do I know they are still alive? Can I speak to them?” Her voice held a slight tremble, as if her own words actually hurt her, terrified her. She was trying so hard to be strong, but she was missing pieces of herself and it was so very hard to function properly without those pieces. She bit it back, attempting to ignore it.
Ryder hesitated once more. “Not until I finish with my questions.”
“Ask me then.” She said instantly, impatiently. Her heart had jumped into her throat and she was desperate to answer anything they asked if it only helped her assure their lives. She balled her other hand into a fist, wanting nothing more than to get them back.
“Where is Damien?” he asked, almost as if he hadn’t really wanted to ask. There was a slight moment of hesitation and she hoped they were sitting on pins and needles, anxious for her to respond. She wanted their respect out of fear and anticipation and she was very well getting it. She was in control and she knew it.
“I had asked Lance and he wouldn’t tell me so I’ll ask you…why is Damien so damn special?” she seemed uncaring; but then again, she didn’t care about either man. She knew she wasn’t going to receive the answer to that question until she demanded it. She was toying with them.
She could sense the frown that had to have befallen his face. “What happened to him?”
“You really want to know?” she asked maliciously. She knew what was coming and she hated it but it was what had to be done. She had to tell them the truth, if not for them but for herself.
“Yes.” Ryder said gently and she grew silent, chewing on her cracked bottom lip and attempting to decide what to say. Finally, she exhaled and pressed the button, ignoring the anxious looks from everyone beside her.
“When he got back to the house, I gave Babe Ruth a run for his money.” She said finally. Silence grew as the man awaited her explanation. “I shattered both of his kneecaps…one for my father and one for my brother…and then an elbow for Shelly and I broke his forearm for Miles. The punch in the face was just an added bonus for my cousin.” Her words were measured and slow…deliberate and receiving the very reactions she was trying to provoke, she knew it. Yes, she was different; she was angry and hurting. She was broken and even in the midst of their chaos she yearned for Miles to bring her back from the brink of insanity.
“Is he still alive?” Ryder then asked of her and she swallowed.
“I wasn’t finished with my story. This is where it gets good.” Her voice was vindictive and full of pain, edged with hate. She hesitated b
efore speaking again. She licked her lips and inhaled sharply, a pain hitting her lungs. “He killed my son, my baby. He shot him in the back with Lance’s gun and I had to hold him while he took his last breath. He died trying to comfort me. He was eleven. Do you know how that feels, Ryder?” She asked, her words were biting and full of unadulterated emotion that she couldn’t hide. She hesitated before speaking again; waiting for a response, and she realized that she had reached it, far past her limit. She had lost her father and her son, and Miles, Shelly, and Brian were taken. That was her breaking point and the men responsible would surely pay for it.
“No. I don’t.” Ryder’s words after a moment of silence brought her out of her depressing reverie.
“So,” she began, turning from the subject of Kyle back to that of Damien, “we carried his broken, screaming body to the truck and we took Lance to the back of the house…opened the fence…and I left him. I left him to die at the hands of monsters you all will become one day.” She said serenely. It was unnerving, her lack of emotion. “I wanted to hear him scream, I wanted to hear them both scream, and I got my wish. Don’t worry; Damien is alive…for now.” She was full of so much hatred and pain that it hurt. She forced herself to change the subject back to one of her original questions. “So, tell me, why is he so special?” Silence. She sighed, not expecting them to answer her immediately. She understood that they would need some prompting. “I guess you won’t tell me either.” She said, and though her words were laced with sarcasm, she knew they would.
Ryder uttered in a low voice. “He was Adrian’s son.”
Amber almost laughed to herself in amusement and surprise. “Let’s see if I figured this right…Adrian? He’s the one in charge, right?”
“Yes.” He admitted slowly, and Amber could tell that he was clearly astounded. Hell, she was too by this information. The irony was almost too much for her.
