Endgame (Book 2): Alekhine's Gun

by W. A. R.

  “Who are you people? What is going on?” the young girl asked and Shelly shifted where she sat, leaning forward to peer at the newcomers.

  “What…” she paused, clearing her throat. “What do you know?” she asked of them and the young girl answered while the woman stared hard at the three strangers in the room before her. She obviously didn’t thrust them, regardless of the fact that they were all in the same captive position.

  “Nothing. We were travelling from New Orleans, trying to find someplace safe when they just snatched us up. We have no idea…whe…. where we are…who these p…people are…Nothing. We know nothing,” The young girl whimpered breathlessly. At this, Miles couldn’t help but chuckle at the incredulity of it all. They were personally watched for months, infiltrated even, and these two were merely snatched up from the streets within minutes. If he were honest, that struck a little prideful chord within his senses. He and his people were clearly very valuable and complicated. The two newcomers jerked their gazes to Miles, who remained calm and relaxed, his mind attempting to come up with a plan of sorts to escape.

  “What is so funny?” the girl asked, her voice trembling and Miles shrugged, not wanting to answer. Shelly eyed him sadly, and he was unsure what she was thinking. She wasn’t angry, but she did seem saddened. She was silently asking him a question with her eyes, one he couldn’t figure out. This went on in the silence for a few minutes and with every passing one he felt his shoulders tense. Finally, he jerked his head to his friend and growled.

  “What?” She looked past him to the two women, obviously indicating that whatever was bothering her and was on her mind had to deal with the two nervous newcomers. He stole a pitiful glance at her and he sighed. “I’m trying to figure out a way out of this.” He stated and Shelly exhaled heavily. Alright, he decided, he needed some peace, they all did and there was only one way he knew how to do that; only one way he learned. He remembered how they had found just a few hours’ peace and comfort after Selena’s unfortunate death and again a few nights here and there when he and Amber couldn’t find peace enough to sleep. And just as suddenly as he thought this, he missed Amber. His heart ached with a heavy longing and an intense worry. It wasn’t fair. He clung to it then, that way of finding peace, letting it help him to ease their frightened minds. He turned to the two women. “What are your names?” he asked and Shelly once again peered around him, clearly excited at the turn of events. Maybe she thought with more people they had a better chance of getting out, or maybe it would be entertaining to hear their story, to get her mind off her own misery. Either way, silence reigned until the one of the two of them answered.

  “I’m Chloe,” the younger girl said, and then she nodded at the older woman. “And that’s my sister Lacy.” The older woman quickly shot a glare to her sister, earning a chastened look from the young teenager. She was still angry.

  Miles shifted, stealing a glance at Shelly before turning back to the women. “Tell me Chloe, Lacy…what do you know of Vincent Van Gogh?”

  Chapter Seven

  Amber woke with a start, her arm flinging around and connecting with someone’s chest. Her heart pounded against her chest and a sharp pain sliced across her ribs as she inhaled. She cried out in pain, feeling hands grip her shoulders, trying to hold her down. She tossed her head wildly, her hands searching for the knife that should have been on her thigh but it wasn’t there. Images of Kyle dying, Brian, Miles, and Shelly being drug away, of her father breathing his last breath….it all came flooding back to haunt her and she felt tears of anger, hatred, and desperation. Yet in the midst of all of this she didn’t beg as the hands were shoved from her. She brought her knee up, pushing at the imposter as he tried yelling something in her ear. What was he trying to say? She wasn’t sure, and she couldn’t make it out with the sound of blood roaring in her ears. Her head throbbed, tender to the touch as it slammed back against the floor. Where was she? It was so dark… Arms suddenly wrapped around her and she struggled, exclaiming lightly as she tried once again to shove her captor away. It was useless, as they heled her arms down steadfastly, legs held tightly around hers in a vise. The man was still speaking in her ear, trying to calm her. She screamed and thrashed against his hold on her until she realized it was futile. Only then did she relax her heartbeat, her mind already determining a way out of the mess she was in.

  “Amber…calm down…are you calm?” Buddy’s voice permeated her senses, his breath hot on her ear. She grimaced and slowly allowed her eyes to adjust. Everything was so fuzzy, so blurry that she was uncertain where she was for a few brief moments. Everything was swimming and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut, trying to regain her focus. Buddy’s hold on her loosened only slightly as he began talking lightly to her. “It’s alright…do you know who I am?” Very slowly, she nodded and swallowed the bile that had risen in her throat. Finally, she opened her eyes again, seeing the bed of a truck surrounding her. She felt Buddy remove his legs from hers and his arms unlatched themselves. He eased up, placing one hand against her upper back and the other on her shoulder. He took his time in easing her into sitting position while her head came in and out of focus. Gingerly, she brought a hand to her tender and aching temple. She winced.

  “Buddy?” she asked, licking her dry lips. She shivered against the cold air that seemed to seep through the pores of her skin, freezing the very inside of her. “Where are we?” She began looking around, seeing the dawn breaking the sky over high brick walls. Her eyes trailed to the barn, where so many screams had come to surface, and then the graves, where some of their own lay in eternal sleep. She groaned and tilted her head to the side, feeling pressure in her neck before she spotted the house. Her entire body ached, even the slightest of movements making her dizzy and unfocused. Why did everything hurt so much? Oh right; grief she recalled bitterly. It does horrendous things to one’s body.

  “We are in the Silverado.” He stated easily, releasing her and easing to sit on the side of the bed, facing her. His concerned blue eyes delved into her, and she shuddered, feeling vulnerable and weak. He ran a hand through his long blond hair.

  “What happened?” she asked, trying to ease herself to the side of the truck opposite him. It was then she noticed the blankets covering her. He watched her every movement, worried and hesitant. She finally eased herself onto the edge, leaving the blanket on the bed of the truck and taking in their surroundings.

  “You fell asleep. Yesterday afternoon.” His words were clipped and uncertain. She groaned and rubbed her temples gently, wincing as she did so. She could smell blood and vomit. She felt disgusted with herself.

  “How come you didn’t wake me or carry me in?” she asked almost accusingly and he sighed, turning his eyes from her and looking back at the house. No movement came from the confines of it, and Amber figured they were the only ones awake by then. And then she wondered how long Buddy had been awake. She studied his appearance, noting how his eyelids drooped slightly, his frown marring his face.

  “We tried. Every time someone touched you, you fought. You wouldn’t wake up…we have been worried.” He stated simply and Amber ran two blistered and scarred hands down her face, trying desperately to bring her mind out of the fog it was in. “Do you remember everything that has happened?” he asked of her, glancing at where her nimble fingers pressed against her damaged temple. She looked up at him through her long lashes.

  “So, it wasn’t all just some horrible nightmare?” she asked almost teasingly, her body and mind feeling slightly better with the rest, even as it ached with soreness. She still sensed that tinge of both hopefulness and bitterness that laced her words. He grimaced in distaste at her question and she sighed. “Yes, I remember everything, though I wish I could forget.” She finally replied and he saw the relief come over him, causing her attitude to lift if only a little.

  “You needed your rest…but you were out for almost fourteen hours.” He told her accusingly and she lowered her hands, resting her elbows on her knees. She twi
sted her fingers together in a nervous fit, her emotions already beginning to pick up.

  “Well, that’s what happens whenever your head is slammed against a brick wall or the equivalent thereof. Last time I was passed out in a church for eighteen.” She snapped back at him, earning her a heated look. She groaned and glanced back at the house. “Where are my knife and my guns?” she asked, not bothering to look for them on her person. She knew that they were no longer there.

  “We had to take them away before you hurt someone else or yourself while you were sleeping.” He said simply and she turned back to him, her mind finally waking up and her vision focusing. “You actually sliced George’s arm when he tried to move you.” Her heart no longer pounded against her chest and her breathing was even. All there was to her then was the grief that was slowly making its way back into her heart and soul. Damn, she hated that.

  “May I have them back?” she asked and Buddy sighed, lowering his head.

  “George has them. He went to the barn to check on Damien.” He replied, gauging Amber’s reaction. She hadn’t forgotten about the man at all, but she wished she could have. She wished she could erase his entire existence from ever having been there. Her people would still be alive and around, her son would still be with her and she wouldn’t have become such a monster. That wasn’t a possibility, however, and it was something that she had slowly begun to accept. Glancing at the mounds of dirt covering the decaying body of her son, she could still feel the hurt deep within her, but she knew she couldn’t dwell on it any longer. He wouldn’t have wanted her to. It brought a sense of comfort seeing Zeus still resting beside the grave, eyes open and watching the two of them from across the way.

  She nodded. “How is he this morning?” she asked and Buddy tossed her a curious glance, but he didn’t seem surprised by her question. He shrugged, leaning back and rubbing his palms across his legs.

  “As good as you could expect.” Buddy replied, turning to stare at the barn as they discussed their prisoner. Their prisoner. Amber felt torn between feeling uncomfortable with that term and yet resolved in the confidence she felt at getting her people back.

  “Did Katie go check him out?” she asked and again he shrugged.

  “Yeah. Rick gave over his bandages and gathered whatever else he could find.” He hesitated, looking at her as a friend would. “Why are you even worried about his health?” he asked of her randomly and she shrugged, not wanting to answer. She sighed and massaged her forehead gently. She had missed out on so much on those hours she was asleep. She had meant to tend to Damien, develop a plan for their course of action, soothe any angst and worry from their companions.

  “We need to discuss a game plan for today. I am so sorry I…” Buddy held up a hand to stop her and she immediately clamped her mouth shut. He lowered his hand and sighed.

  “We have already discussed it, and we have a plan. We just need to run it by you.” He said and when Amber lifted a brow at him he continued. “We all got together and discussed it.”

  “And?” He attempted to appear firm in their decisions, but it was all still obviously new to him. He cleared his throat and licked his lips before speaking.

  “And…” he began, unsure of where to begin. Amber pulled her arms over her head, stretching her tense muscles as she waited for him to continue. She studied him, how he wrung his hands together in his fit of nervousness, how he avoided her gaze and tried to find strength and conviction within himself. Finally, he found the words he needed to say. “The man said to meet them at the timber plant on Stateline Road in Thurston at noon, right?” he asked and Amber nodded, lowering her arms.

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, Rick knows of this place on Caledonia…before the outbreak there was a man that collected guns and ammo of all kinds. We can swing by and get them, see what we end up with. As far as the meeting, go directly from that stop and to the plant. We arrive early enough, park at a house down the road and travel up through the woods.” Amber nodded, agreeing with what he said so far. “George explained how they took out the other six. We spread out, station ourselves in trees or other places of hiding, and scout out what we are up against before we make a move. We could surround them and have them in our sights before anyone ever makes a move.”

  Amber squinted against the brightening sunlight. “What if there are more out there than we can handle? Or a trap? Or they have the same idea?” she asked and he shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.

  “We will have weapons to fight if we need to, but I figure if we get there early enough and travel through the woods that we will see if it is a trap beforehand.” He stated and Amber inhaled deeply. It wasn’t foolproof, but it was better than nothing. She would have possibly come up with the same plan if she hadn’t been, well, unconscious.

  “Sounds good. When are we leaving?”

  “At least within the next hour or so, just in case. Better safe than sorry.” He hesitated, looking at her as if yearning for acceptance. “What do you think?”

  She nodded, running a hand through her crimson flaked and dirt covered hair. “Sounds like a plan.” She stated, turning to the house. Still, no movement from inside the walls and for a moment she yearned to be in there with them, pretending as if the world outside wasn’t happening. Sighing, she knew she wouldn’t be able to do that again until all their people were safe once again. It hurt, all their losses, and it spread into an ache that reached so deep that it could not be touched.

  “Cassie tried to stay out here with you but it got cold. I told her to go in.” Buddy informed her, catching her attention. The mention of Cassie brightened Amber’s face and she couldn’t fight the small smile that formed on her lips.

  “Did she?”

  Buddy shook his head, motioning with his thumb towards the cab of the truck. “She bargained with me.” And Amber chuckled at her daughter’s tenacity, reminding her of her own. Amber’s smile slowly turned into a frown as she glanced at the tinted windows of the cab.

  “She misses them…all of them. She’s hurting.” Amber told him and he cleared his throat once again and reflexively she turned from the cab back to him. He was staring at her with a pointed look, his eyes sternly telling her what his mouth was going to say.

  “We all are. But she is strong, like you. We will make it through this.” He told her and she sighed, glancing back towards the barn. He was right, they would. Either that or they would die, which given the circumstances of survival in the world they were in, didn’t seem like such a bleak offer. For a brief moment, though saddened at their absence, she was grateful that Kyle, Jackson, Brittany, and Elva-Jo no longer had to endure the hell they were in. She saw George emerge from the barn, and slowly, she stood.

  “I have to pay our guest a visit before we leave.” She said, easily climbing out of the back of the truck. Buddy lifted a brow at her, standing as well, and she rolled her eyes, suppressing the lightheadedness that seemed to momentarily capture her and hold her hostage. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt him anymore.”

  “That isn’t what I’m worried about.” He admitted and Amber stopped, turning to look up at him as he climbed out of the truck behind her. He rounded to face her, noting the curious gleam in her eyes and sighed. “Just be careful in there. Promise me that?” he asked, and he was so sincerely concerned that Amber nodded without hesitation.

  “Of course.”

  He sighed, glancing at the house. “I’m going to go get the others up and start getting ready. I’ll come get you whenever we are ready to head out.” He told her and just like that she felt some of the tension ease. He was her friend; he had her back. He didn’t understand why she needed to go speak to Damien, but then again, he didn’t need to. She wasn’t even sure what compelled her to ask for Katie’s assistance, or for that matter to go and see him. After everything he had done, she should be wanting to kill him, to leave him in that barn, bleeding and waiting to rot into nothing but a corpse. However, something was pulling at her to see him and if she
knew one thing for sure, it was to not ignore those gut instincts. Fate, as she once would have called it. Faith, as her father called it. Finally, she nodded at him and turned, limping as her muscles loosened, and made her way towards George’s approaching figure before the barn.

  George stopped, sparing a glance at her as she stepped up to him. His eyes looked tired and concerned, and he studied her, his green eyes roaming over her and taking in her appearance. She tilted her head to the side, her mouth dry, and her vision fuzzy. Slowly, he ran a hand through his chestnut colored hair, struggling to look away from her. She furrowed her eyebrows in curiosity and sighed, deciding not to address whatever problems he was having.

  “Buddy said you had my knife and my guns.” She said, and he turned to look up at her. They weren’t her guns; they were Miles’s guns that she had taken from Lance. She shifted on her feet, reaching her hand out, palm up, to him, anxious to have them back in her grasp. “Can I have them back? I feel…weird…without them.” She said easily and he nodded, not breathing a word. Slowly, he turned and began leading the way to the barn. Amber stared after him uncertainly, her thoughts questioning one another. He didn’t have them on his person, but surely he didn’t leave them in the barn with Damien. Whether he was damaged or bound, it didn’t matter to her; after everything that had occurred between the two of them, she wouldn’t put it past him to find some way to seek his revenge just as she had sought hers. Still, she followed her friend, her breathing growing heavy and the feeling of sluggishness overwhelming her. She felt as if she had been drugged, her head aching and her throat burning. Her stomach growled with a hunger and it lurched with a pain that she felt spear her down to the very soles of her feet. She hesitated for a moment, gathering her wits about her, and this didn’t go unnoticed.