by W. A. R.
“Very little. I know that they are alright, but other than that, he was…too emotional…to tell me anything more.” She said softly, swallowing the lump that was in her throat. “He started thrashing around and whenever they brought you in, they put him in a sleeper hold to knock him out. They undid his chains and stationed him to the floor. He has been that way ever since. He needed to sleep though. At least they made him comfortable.” She said absently, and Miles wasn’t sure that she was even talking to him anymore. She looked off at his motionless body, his chest moving up and down every few seconds with every breath that he took. Things were silent for a moment and Miles felt the pinch behind his nose that told him tears were close behind. He wanted to wonder why, but instead he willed them away with his bitterness, refusing to let it get him down. He wouldn’t think about it; he wouldn’t allow himself to. That is, until Shelly spoke her next words.
“So, what happened…really? Brian was too choked up to tell me.” As she spoke, her voice cracked. She licked her lips and shuddered, and Miles knew that she was crying. “Someone was hurt. Who?” The sting of tears returned and his mouth suddenly went dry. He turned away from her and closed his eyes. She deserved to know, and he was going to tell her, but it hurt so damned much.
He cleared his throat. “They were about to question me whenever Amber came on the radio.” He began, remembering her voice. It made him yearn for her, to hold her, feel her, to know for a fact that she was alright. He wanted to take her from the hell that he knew she was in. “She said that they made it, said that they killed that asshole Lance and about nineteen other people.”
Shelly’s eyes widened in response. “She knew. She really knew; that was why she was trying to warn us.”
Miles nodded, feeling proud. “She went looking for Rick after we left; found him tied to a tree, still alive.” He told her and her eyes shimmered with tears. He could see the small smile playing on the corners of her lips and he offered her a small smile in return. “He told them about Damien, about the ambush.”
Shelly shifted on the carpet, turning so she could see him more clearly. “So, what then? They had a plan?”
Once again, Miles nodded in response. “She said that when he got back to the house, she…” he hesitated, closing his eyes and trying to imagine her doing the acts that she had said she had done. “She took a baseball bat to him. If I remember right, she said she broke both knees, his forearm, and an elbow.” He told Shelly, and she practically bounced where she sat, her excitement palpable. But then, he remembered the rest of her story, or, well, the story that the men had been given. It hurt, and his pride was gone, replaced instead with heartache and anger. He couldn’t look at Shelly then, and she seemed to notice this. She frowned at him.
“What happened next?” she asked, and he released a heavy breath, shuddering as a few tears released themselves from their prison behind his eyes. He remembered the heartache with which she said the words, the vengefulness, and she complete and total difference of a person that she exuded. She was no longer the woman that he had left that morning. Instead, she was more determined, angry, and sought retaliation. “Miles?” she prodded and he glanced from her to the window a few yards from where he was.
He licked his lips. “Damien…he shot…he killed…Kyle…Kyle is gone.” He said and for a moment, he worried she didn’t comprehend his stammered speech. Slowly, he turned to look at her and she stared at him in anger, desperation.
“You’re lying.” She accused of him and he felt as if he had been slapped. The tears were hot in the coolness of the room, and when his tongue darted out to wet his cracked and bleeding lips again, he tasted the salt and the hatred, the pain that came with them.
He shook his head. “No, I’m not.” He told her, his voice cracking and finally, after a long moment of studying his face, she caved. She crumbled against the wall, letting her tears flow freely as she lowered her head and closed her eyes against the pain. Miles tore his eyes away from her and leaned his head back against the wall, closing his own eyes and letting his own tears flow, his shoulders shaking with the weight of loss and helplessness.
This went on for a few minutes; uncontrollable sobs and whimpers. They wanted nothing more than to feel something, someone; they needed some comfort of human contact to ease their tattered mind, their torn hearts, and so Shelly straightened, trembling, her lips quivering and turned just so, leaning her head roughly against Miles. He closed his eyes tightly at this motion, feeling the emotions run him ragged and he lowered his head to rest against the crown of hers. They were grateful in the peace that they found in one another, both lovers of one family, both drawn to a brother and a sister that had shown them how truly beautiful the world was and now, now they were all weak and ragged, vulnerable and furious with the loss of one of their own. The sharp piercing ache of it all was brutally real, and they couldn’t escape it. Miles figured that they would wake Brian, but they didn’t; no, the man, his brother, her betrothed, rested peacefully as if the vindictive world around them didn’t exist.
“It’s not fair…” Shelly finally breathed, her words quaking. Miles shifted, nudging his cheek against her hair when he felt her sob a little more. She sighed, seeming to appreciate it. “It shouldn’t have been him…Oh Amber…” Miles swallowed. Yes, she had certainly been broken; having lost Jackson, Shelly, Brian, and now Kyle…and him? Of course she cared about him, but did his absence affect her? It was a selfish question, one that he had phrased in a million different ways since he had admitted his feelings for her. And now…how he wished that before he met his maker, before he became a monster, he wished to hear her say how she truly felt for him. It was too late for that now though, and she was different. He couldn’t go to her and kiss away her pain; he couldn’t save her from the dark place he knew she was residing in. She was alone in heart, and for the very first time he couldn’t find any way to fix it. He swallowed. He had failed her. These thoughts shook him down to his very core.
“She said that…that she left Lance to be eaten and she has Damien…” he admitted and Shelly shifted a little.
“What is she going to do with him?” she asked as if it were a crazy notion and he couldn’t blame her. Amber never seemed cruel, and he had never seen her truly angry or vengeful. Still, if she had already immobilized him…what more could she do? Absolutely anything. He grimaced, hating that she was ever put into that position.
“She’s going to get answers.” He said simply, and he knew he was right. That was exactly what she was going to do, even after he had begged her not to. “I told her not to come find us, but she will anyways. You know it; I know it.” At this he tensed, anger flowing out of control. Shelly tried to nudge his shoulder in comfort but he ignored it, instead focusing on the pain that stemmed from this knowledge.
“Miles…” Shelly began but he cut her off, shaking his head.
“She’s going to risk her life for us. I told her not to and she is going to anyways. She tried to trade herself for us.” He snapped, not really angry at Amber, but rather himself for not listening to her in the first place. If they had stayed at the house yesterday morning, if only they had done what she asked of them they would all still be around and alive. Maybe. Then again, maybe not.
“That is part of who she is. She will do anything for those she cares about.” Shelly told him calmly and he looked from Brian to the window. Shelly was right, but it did nothing to take away the ache he felt at the possibility of losing her.
“I would rather suffer this torture and die and have her live than be with her dead.” He told Shelly and Shelly nodded against his shoulder.
“I completely understand; but she is going to do what she feels she needs to do.” Shelly said, sniffling, her voice ore steady now that they were forcing themselves to not think about Kyle’s death. The ache was still there however, a black hole in the depths of their souls that will never be replaced and never be filled. They could not change it, no matter how badly they wished they could. �
��I have never seen her so…furious…before. My grandma always told me wise men fear the anger of a gentle man. I always thought that of…Amber.” She hiccupped on a sob, remembering why Amber would be so angry. “I can only imagine what she will do to him.” Miles conceded her point, having seen the anger in Amber. He recalled the look of pure decisive contemplation when Jackson had died. He saw that in her. He only hoped that she didn’t lose herself in it all.
He sighed, deciding to change the subject from Kyle, and Amber risking her life. “She said Brittany and Elva-Jo were taken by Biters.” He said simply and he felt her quake against him once more. There was nothing but silence amid Shelly’s sobs yet again and he glanced back at Brian’s unconscious body.
“And Rick…was he alright?” she asked finally, her breathing deep and ragged. Miles nodded absently.
“I’m not sure…I told her to tell him that Brian was sorry…for everything.” With the implied meaning that he, himself, was sorry for his every failure. He had hoped that she had caught it, and his sincere thanks to Buddy. Damn. Though he despised that man, Miles had to admit that he had stepped up and taken care of business whenever it was needed. He wasn’t sure what all had happened, but he did know that he made it out and Amber and Cassie did as well. That was enough for Miles to know that the man had done the very best that he could. And though Miles couldn’t be there to help ease the heartache of losing Kyle, Buddy was and for some reason that comforted Miles.
“Thank you for that.” Shelly told him, and he knew she had meant every word.
After that, there was nothing more to say, and so the two of them sat there in silence, their breathing becoming heavier and the sting of tears fading way. For Miles, this fading only opened room for breeding anger. His mind raced, his heart yearning for things he would never have again. His entire life he had been with her, whether she knew it or not and she had been with him, whether he realized it or not. He was a child whenever she entered into his thoughts and as they grew, they grew together unwittingly. She became the reason for his fevered dreams, the reason he was who he was. He had made it a point to be there for her, to support her unknowingly. He recalled the dance on the balcony, the smile that graced her lips. He remembered witnessing her crying in the hospital, seeing Cassie as a newborn and as a young woman. He swallowed then, bringing forth to mind her story of Kyle’s conceiving, and he was there whenever that smart, strong boy was born to a world that would prove to be much to cruel for him. Shelly’s eyes were closed and her breathing was heavy, proving she was asleep.
Miles, however, let it go. He visibly shook with anger. He was angry that he had come so far in his life, that he had matured and was now on his way to having his head on a stake. He had finally moved past his loss of his son only to now be tortured by him. He had found Amber, was given the chance to love her, and now…now he was to leave her to lay his head on the chopping block. Innocent children died, others were corrupted; innocent people, strong people, were condemned as weak for not submitting to the cruelty that others thought to be strong personality traits needed to survive in the world they were living in. Food was scarce, faith was dwindling, and hope was gone. The helpless desperation in Amber’s voice, the cries of a broken woman, of one he loved more than himself, hurt him more than he ever thought possible. And it all angered him.
No, it infuriated him.
Who did these people think they were, taking innocence from a world so corrupt without it? Who could break a good woman and find reason for it? Who, if not evil beings, could take the lives of innocent children and find the actions justified? These people, Miles surmised, were twisted, and he understood what he would have to do to beat them. He was going to have to become just as twisted.
He figured that the better part of his sanity was in question at that point, and he didn’t care. They had taken the very best things about him and ripped them away, tossing them to the side as if it were chewed gun…tasteless and useless. He sought revenge for their doing this and the fact that he was so restrained that he could do nothing about it served to only anger him further. His memories drifted in and out, his mind overwhelmed with the voices that rang out in his ears through the blinding light of anger that raged through him, only increasing with every passing minute.
‘You were my hero!’ Amber had shouted at him.
‘She has always waited for you…” Cassie said next, her words blurring into Kyle’s.
‘Miles, watch me!’
Elliot’s laughter. ‘Miles! Can I help?’
‘It should have always been you…’
‘You can’t be there all of the time for me…’
Right then, as much as he wanted to deny it, he needed her. Her words rang true in his ears and images of the five of them together, laughing, working, being a family; something he never really had before, and whether they had known it then or not, it was the very definition of what they had been. Images of Amber trailing her fingertips along his jaw, looking at him with hooded eyes full of longing filled his mind then as well, and with every new flash of a different picture the pang in his chest pressed deeper. He needed to feel her, to know that she was just as perfect as she had been when he left her. He closed his eyes, remembering how they had all appeared whenever he did leave and he knew that things would never be the same.
The sound of the door opening caught his attention and he jerked his gaze up, his heart hammering in his chest when he realized that the intruder would know then that Shelly was no longer unconscious, but simply asleep. He swallowed, squinting against the bright sunlight that hit him and after a moment the silhouette stepped inside quietly, closing the door behind them. Things were silent as Miles’s eyes once again adjusted to the darkness, trying desperately to determine who this person was, hoping against all hope that it wasn’t Justin. His heart beat rapidly and yet he didn’t move, didn’t want to startle Shelly or the man that had entered the room during his depressing reverie. The man remained still and Miles felt as if he were on display and quickly his eyes darted to where Brian had been laying, unable to make out his sleeping form, before turning back to the man. His shuffled footsteps were heard as he moved his feet against the carpet. He was slow, deliberate, and he was advancing toward Miles and Shelly. Miles swallowed tensely, knowing that he could no longer keep quiet.
“You touch her and I will kill you.” He ground out. His tongue felt like sandpaper scraping against the roof of his mouth. His words were thick and muffled by his own heavy lips, his jaw aching from the previous encounter with Justin. The man seemed to halt in his movements before kneeling down to Miles’s level. Miles heard him chuckle, and his vision began to clear and adjust. Relief clouded his thoughts and for a brief moment, his hostility seemed to leave him.
“I don’t intend to hurt anyone.” Ryder said gently, calmly. “I never did.”
Miles narrowed his eyes in the dim light at the man. “Then why are you here? Why in the hell won’t you leave us alone? I saw enough of the enemy earlier today thanks to you.” he replied hotly and the man shifted again on the balls of his feet, placing something long and flat on Miles’s legs that were stretched out before him.
“I took responsibility for checking on the three of you and well, feeding you and giving you water.” Ryder told him and though Miles wanted to protest he wouldn’t accept it; his body wouldn’t allow him to, recalling the water he had been given hours before. They had been kind for the most part, and for that he was grateful; and Shelly and Brian needed the water, the food.
“Fine.” He said roughly, lifting his shoulder and nudging Shelly. She whimpered, stirring slightly and Ryder watched this with intense interest. “Shelly?” he called after her softly. After a moment, he realized she remained asleep, unmoving. He groaned.
“It’s fine. I can help you first. You have to eat too.” Ryder told him lightly and Miles sneered in disgust.
“I’m fine.” He growled but Ryder ignored him, instead placing the lip of a water bottle against his crac
ked and dried mouth. Without wanting to, he drank greedily, satisfying the thirst that physically ailed him. He wanted to retort something to the man, wanted to ask why they would feed them if they intended on killing them anyways, but he didn’t. No, instead, he remained quiet and drank the water until Ryder pulled it from him.
“I actually…I wanted to apologize for earlier this morning.” Ryder told him, and in the dim lighting he felt a hardened piece of meat press against his lips. Slowly, Miles opened his mouth and began chewing on the flavorless food.
“Apologize for what?” he asked, although he already knew the answer. His jaw ached, he was bound and taken prisoner. The man should be apologizing.
He heard Ryder sigh in the darkness. “I never wanted for this to happen.” He admitted, his voice a little more than a whisper as Miles chewed slowly, his mind running over the man’s words. “Still, I am glad your people are safe.”
Miles blanched at this, clearly bothered by his statement. “Why? So they can be caught as well? So they can be transformed into some kind of monster?” He swallowed the meat that had rested in his mouth and sighed angrily. “Your sincerity is nothing but a lie.”
At this Ryder glanced over at the door cautiously, as if anxious. He then lifted another piece of dried meat to Miles’s mouth, shaking his head. “You don’t understand…”
Miles accepted the food and turned his head from the man. “I understand completely.” He stated, once again chewing on the meat he had been given. “I understand being scared, wanting to find a cure. I get that…but this isn’t the way to do it.”
“You’re angry.” He stated simply. It wasn’t a question, and his voice was saddened.
“Damn right I’m angry!” Miles snapped, heat crawling up his neck. “You and your people have taken away the very things that matter the most to me. Do you really expect me to be anything but angry? I want to kill you all.” Ryder grew silent then, the only sound being Miles chewing on the meat. He took his time, oddly enough, hoping to receive some kind of answers from the man. He wanted to take advantage of his kindness, and yet he was furious and betrayed. If the man truly wanted to help, he would let them go, let them run and find their family.
