Endgame (Book 2): Alekhine's Gun

by W. A. R.

  “Well, whoever lived here appreciated different weapons so I’m not so sure about that.” she dragged her eyes from the handles of the swords to his face. He was watching her, thinking. “How do you know how to handle these anyways?” she asked and from the brief pain that flashed across his eyes she wished she hadn’t. Just as quickly as the look had come, however, it was gone and replaced with pride and a small smile.

  “I’ve been alone my whole life, remember?” he reminded her, his smile wavering. She stared curiously at him, remembering how he had blown up, criticizing himself many months before. She didn’t know his story, and she guessed that she never would. But she was okay with that; it didn’t change who he was to her. She swallowed back any response she might have had, waiting for him to continue. He shifted on his feet, moving closer to her and the sound of thundering footsteps sounded throughout the house. She knew that the others were about finished gathering whatever they needed. “I had plenty of free time to learn stuff most other people didn’t have the time for.” He told her, once again stretching the handles of the swords to her. She felt a bead of sweat roll down her neck and again she questioned her apprehension, cursing herself. “Take them. Learn to use them.” He ordered of her, his blue eyes digging deep into hers. As if her body moved against her will, her hands reached forward, her fingertips grazing the handles of the weapons before the roughness of their holds slid into her calloused and blistered palms. She pulled them to her, leaving them dropped at her sides. Their weight was light and she felt a heated energy surge through her piercing her down to her very core. Her breathing had hitched higher, and though she was nervous she felt excited, even almost…bloodthirsty for revenge. She turned her eyes back up at Buddy after a long moment. He stood there watching her, holding both the back holster and a pair of worn black and gray fingerless gloves. She sighed then, shaking her head.

  “Buddy…we don’t have time for this.” She told him and he only chuckled at her words.

  “We are going to have to make time. We have already determined that it was going to be an inside job to get them back and if I know you, you are going to be the one doing it. I would feel better if you learned to use these, that way you aren’t dependent on a gun that could run out of ammo or a knife you might lose.” He told her sternly before stepping forward and urging her to lower the weapons. She did as he silently asked and he quickly helped her adjust the holster, pulling it tight against her shoulders. She felt it stretch across her back. The feeling would certainly take some getting used to. He noticed how uncomfortable she was with the sheer tightened hold of it and grimaced. “It has to be tight enough so you can unsheathe them quickly without the scabbard snagging.”

  She nodded, swallowing the uncertainty in her chest. “Thank you.” She told him, taking the proffered gloves and sliding her fingers into the soft, warm fabric, her fingers poking out from one end.

  “Your hands are already bad enough, and while you are learning to use those, the gloves will help your hands from becoming raw.” He told her and she shot him a curious look. “I came across the gloves and thought you could use them regardless. Your hands are still blistered from digging…” he trailed off, seeming unsettled with discussing Jackson’s death. “Anyways, you needed them.”

  She had to admit that she liked the feel of them against her sore palms. “Thank you…again.” She looked up at him for a moment before reaching for the two swords. She held them tightly in her hands. “You’ve changed from that lonely man.” He offered her a small smile.

  “And you have changed from that sweet woman.” He countered quickly, stepping forward and reaching up to help her slide the swords into their holsters. Again, she would have to get used to the feeling of removing and replacing them. They felt light against her back as she stood, staring at Buddy. She felt saddened at his comment and she shrugged her shoulders, attempting to get used to the feeling they had on her.

  “Have I really changed so much?” she asked of him as he turned with her and began grabbing the rifles and shotguns that were in the gun cabinet. He handed her three, which she slung over her shoulders easily before she reached forward and grabbed some ammo boxes from the bottom.

  “You’ve changed…but not enough to lose who you are…sweetness.” He grinned cheekily at her and she couldn’t help but snicker at his assurance. Still, she knew why she was nervous about having those weapons that she had so wantonly wanted. She knew what she planned to do with them, and she knew that once she got her hands on them she would train and practice if only to take down who she had to innocent or not and internally, she was okay with that. That was what scared her. Still, she hoped that she could cling to some semblance of her former self. Without that moral compass with her, she knew she would make regrettable mistakes. Would she become like Adrian…like Damien? Would she become the monster that she feared herself to be? Her anger, her heartache, and her bloodlust for revenge told her yes while her heart, her compassion, and her reason told her no. She didn’t want to stoop down to their level, regardless of what they had taken from her, but she already had. She had let it break her, had let the anger win, and that was something she had once fought against by the very man reminding her that she was still who she was before. After all the torture that she had caused Damien, after leaving Lance for dead and the deaths that her own people had caused…why after all of that, was this war waging inside of her? Why was she desperate not to approach it and yet simultaneously torn to accept it and let it guide her? She shrugged her shoulders once more, feeling them shift under her movements. Yes, if she wasn’t already a murderer, she would become one soon enough. She smiled a little to herself. Did this satisfy her? Yes…yes it did.

  Chapter Eight

  George looked at their haul in the back of one of the two trucks. His eyes widened despite himself and he let out a low whistle as Amber shrugged three more rifles into the bed of the truck. The bed of the truck was loaded down with weapons of all kinds and if he were honest, the sheer amount made George a little nervous. What kind of person harbored such weaponry before the outbreak whenever their necessity was minimal at most? He couldn’t believe what a jackpot they had hit, especially considering that they would need everything whenever they went after the others…or, he gulped at the reminder, within a few hours whenever they were to be meeting the strangers that Amber and Buddy had said wanted to help. He shook his head, earning a skeptical look from Amber in the process. She was wondering what he was thinking, and as he studied her jerky motions and quiet demeanor he questioned what was on her mind as well. He sighed, knowing that she was having trouble adjusting. He couldn’t blame her, after everything she had lost; and then there was the simple fact that before Lance and Damien, he didn’t think she had a mean or cruel bone in her body. Revenge? She would never be able to pull that off. He didn’t doubt that if she were determined enough that she would save her people, but the fact was he didn’t think she would be able to inflict the damage she needed for herself to get out free. She would ensure the others made it out and then she would sacrifice herself. That was what he thought, anyways, before he saw what damage she could do whenever she was lost to her emotions. He shuddered. Damien’s blood still rested on the floor.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked finally, glancing over her shoulder to ensure that no one else had made it back out of the house yet before turning back to him. He furrowed his brow at her. Was she wanting to have a private conversation? He didn’t mind; in fact, he thought it would be good if the both of them could get whatever was haunting them off their minds. His eyes roamed over her, taking in the gloves and the swords she had acquired, her messy ponytail and face, her blood ridden clothes and Miles’s guns on her hips. Her small knife still held fast against her thigh and the one side of her face was bruised. He grimaced.

  “You look like hell.” He told her, and she smirked at him.

  “You’re just now noticing this? I smell pretty bad too.” she asked, crossing both arms across her
chest. She eyed him. “Besides, you look pretty rough yourself.” She informed him and he felt himself chuckle. This was what they did, he thought, to move past the heartache. They ignored it, accepted it, shoved it back so they could move forward. He shifted on his feet and studied her, watching as Katie made her way up to the truck, arms loaded with a few more guns. He turned back at Amber, catching her attention and nodding past her towards Katie. Amber turned and saw the woman give her an apologetic look before she turned back to George. “What?”

  “Nothing.” He replied casually and Amber sighed, hearing more footsteps behind her. George glanced up to see Rick and Buddy making their way towards them as well. Katie shifted nervously on her feet, Amber and George watching in amusement, before she finally gathered whatever nerve she had or what she needed to do or say and made her way to Amber and George. George, instead, looked past her and to all the others that were outside now and finishing loading their weapons. Judging by the looks of things, they were done gathering everything they had found…he squinted up at the steadily rising sun…which meant it was nearing time to go into battle. As he thought this, he could feel the sudden tension that gripped at them all, as if they all seemed to have the same thought.

  “They are going to ask for Lance and Damien.” George told her gently as Katie neared them, Rick moving slowly behind her, as if trying to prolong the inevitable. George felt the excitement run through his veins, the intensity of it drilling through him, setting him afire, and he saw the same flames of weariness and anticipation in Amber’s eyes. He glanced at Katie as she stepped beside Amber, arms wrapped around her midsection as usual. Her apprehension ate at George, and he felt the need to make her stay in at the house. She had refused, however; determined to join her comrades as they went towards a very possible death. Oddly enough, that possibility didn’t seem to bother the others much. The only one bothered by it was Katie. Then again…everyone else, save Buddy, had lost someone close to them; they all had a stake in that game and they had grown accustomed to the pain and the fear in the short amount of time these things had happened.

  Amber glanced up at the nervous Katie and lifted her chin. “I know. I’ll handle it.” She replied and Katie looked over at her worriedly. Amber shifted on her feet, turning to the frightened and almost…angry?...woman. “Are you alright?” Amber asked and Katie stared at her for a long, drawn out moment before turning and shrugging.

  “I have to be.” She replied almost intensely and Amber studied her. George bit his tongue, keeping his mouth shut from lashing out at the tepid woman. He didn’t understand how she had agreed to cooperate with whatever they decided to do, and once the three had come in from gathering information from Damien she was changed. She was morosely bitter.

  “You never had to come out here, Katie.” Rick informed her from behind, and everyone turned their eyes to him. His eyes were alert and steady, holding firmly to the woman before him. She visibly shook under his stare, seemingly slapped by his words.

  “I’m going to sit in the truck.” She said quickly before turning and leaving their company. The three of them watched her, Buddy, Cassie, and Jacob doing the same as they slowly made their way to where they rested. George shook his head and ran a hand across his face in exasperation. Great, he thought, going into a fight with an angry, irrational woman. It was exactly what they needed. Amber shook her head, releasing a slight chuckle. George lifted a brow at her.

  “What now?” she asked of him and he only smiled suspiciously and shook his head.

  “Nothing.” He replied and she narrowed her eyes playfully at him before crossing her arms and leaning her back against the truck. He laughed at her determination and turned to spare a look at Rick, who watched their interaction with interest. He saw the saddened look in his eyes as they darted between himself and Amber and his smile dropped, turning into a frown. His relationship with Amber, their closeness that had once been that of a brother and sister, was still mending and judging by the sincerity and remorse in their depths, he knew that Rick wanted nothing more than to have that relationship with her in that moment. He felt a hand clap him on the back, bringing him from his reverie and he turned to see who had touched him.

  Buddy stared back at him and George wondered how he had gotten behind him without his noticing it. “Y’all are sure smiling a good bit considering everything.” He noted and though he expected the others to shift nervously, none of them did. Amber shrugged, her eyes intense as they landed on her friend.

  “What else are we going to do? Cry about everything some more?” she asked, her words light though laced with a bit of scorn. She cleared her throat. “I’m not sure about everyone else, but I think I am about all cried out at this point and all I want is to get it all over with.”

  “Crybaby.” Rick teased her from the side and she turned to him, reaching an arm forward and shoving him back at his shoulder. He chuckled at this and shoved her back.

  “Don’t make me hurt you cuz.”

  “Like you could.” He countered and she squared her shoulders, a small smile on her lips. Before anyone could react however, Cassie stepped forward, her eyes still red and puffy from her earlier tears. She jumped on Rick’s back, causing him to stagger on his still healing leg. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms wrapped around his neck. She laughed lightly, and he shifted her weight on his back so he could hold her more easily. He tossed Amber a look. “You probably could now.” And she chuckled at this. Jacob stepped forward and stood beside George opposite of Buddy and for a moment all was silent. George inhaled deeply, and Amber turned her gaze from the people around her to the tree line. He followed her line of sight and watched as the wind whipped against the trees, forcing them to bend to its will, to move and dance to a rhythm that only the wind knew. It was pleasant…the scent of it, the sight of the sunlight moving through the winding limbs of the trees and for a moment it was as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. No one had died, no one had been taken, and no one was slowly losing themselves in the hate that laced every move one made in the world. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply yet again, taking in the moment before it had to leave. It was a good thing too, he realized, because not even ten seconds after this did Buddy interrupt him once again.

  “Are you all ready to do this?” he asked and George’s eyes snapped open, turning and focusing on the man at his side. Though his question was simple, his tone of voice was anything but. After hearing the silence that followed, an uncomfortable silence that told him that no one else knew how to answer, he knew that he wasn’t the only one to catch his hidden meaning.

  He cleared his throat. “Are you asking if we are sure we still want to do this?” he asked and Buddy looked from George to Amber and then to the kids. George shook his head, turning from him and shoving both hands into his pants pockets. His silence was George’s answer. “In that case, yes, I am sure. This is a risk I am willing to take to get them back.”

  Rick nodded. “No doubt about it.” And George felt a surge of gratitude at his words of agreement. He shifted Cassie on his back and the young woman leveled her gaze at Buddy.

  “Of course we are sure. They would risk it all for us…they have risked it all for us.”

  Jacob stared after Cassie for a moment before lowering his gaze and speaking. “I am with Cassie.” And he said this with such conviction that the young woman stared hard at him with saddened and grateful eyes before nodding. Finally, it was Amber’s turn to speak. She was, however, still staring at the tops of the trees, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. Buddy was silent for a moment as he watched her, George and Rick the same.

  “Amber?” he finally asked and she never turned her gaze to him. Instead she inhaled and exhaled heavily.

  “I heard you.” She replied quickly, cutting off anything else that Buddy might have said. She moved silently on the balls of her feet, shifting her focus to the taller man beside George. She pursed her lips, thinking deeply about her response before answering. “My lif
e would mean nothing…my death would mean nothing…if I didn’t at least try.” At this she smiled, greatly easing the tension between them all. “We should probably get going. It’s getting closer to time.” She told them all before turning and aiming for the Silverado that she had driven. Rick lowered Cassie and she and Jacob raced after her, wishing to ride with her while Rick and George ambled toward the second truck. After a moment, curiosity got the best of George and he turned to see where Buddy was, having not heard his footsteps move behind them. When he turned, he saw Buddy watching Amber and Cassie with an air of…. something. He looked both saddened and angry, determined and at a loss, defeated. George wondered briefly what was on his mind then, what was troubling him so, but he didn’t ask…not then. His excitement had once again heightened about the upcoming fight and the thrill he had felt when taking those men’s lives before ran through his veins. He was a killer, and it excited him; justice excited him, made him feel powerful.

  After a moment, Buddy finally tore his gaze from the pair, glancing at George before shaking his head and stomping off towards the Silverado. George sighed, knowing then at least part of what was on his mind. It wasn’t that the man doubted whether or not they should go…he just didn’t want Amber or Cassie involved. The man that was so used to being alone, the man that hadn’t had anything to do with anyone whenever they had first met was learning what it felt like to care and to actually, possibly love other people rather than himself. It was a warm thought that sealed George’s resolve as he climbed into the driver’s seat beside Katie. They were going to come out on top, one way or another, and regardless of how many losses they suffered. It was their determination, their goal, and knowing these people, his family, they wouldn’t give it. They were far too headstrong for that.