by W. A. R.
“It’s a long story.” He chuckled. “I could ask you the same question. How did you and my dad find each other?” he asked and Amber laughed, sighing.
“It’s a long story.” She copied and one of the two men that had been left at his side stepped forward, the look he had given them leaving no room for arguments. Michael turned and stood beside her, watching the two men, his two men, intently. Seriousness weighted down on them suddenly, reminding them all that this was a life or death situation.
“One we don’t have time for.” Said the tall man and he looked at Amber sadly before holding his hand out for her to shake. She quickly took it. “I’m Ryder. It is an honor to finally meet you.”
Amber felt her heart burst in her chest. “Ryder?” she asked weakly, her voice giving out on her. Ryder…the man that had let her talk to her people…the man that had given her information. She felt a surge of gratitude and no longer did she feel uneasy about these strange men. She felt safe; just as safe as she did with her own people. “Oh my…Ryder…my brother…Shelly…Miles are they…”
“They are fine for now. But we do have a lot to discuss in the next…” he glanced at his watch “…twelve minutes. First things first, Rusty…” he began, addressing the man to his left beside Michael. The man was staring hard at Amber, his eyes darting slowly between Amber and Michael. Amber lifted a brow at the man. Ryder dropped his hand. “Rusty.” He said once more, trying to get his attention. Amber glanced back to the man as irritation wove its way over Ryder’s features. “Rusty!” he finally exclaimed and the man jumped, clearly startled and taken from his reprieve.
“What?” he growled. Ryder gave him a somewhat tender somewhat annoyed look.
“Go find Riley and get the items that she needs to take with her.” He spat out and Rusty rolled his eyes and took off to another of the men that stood on watch at the wood line. Amber furrowed her brow in confusion.
“Riley, Rusty, Ryder?” she glanced at Michael. “Have a thing for ‘R’ names?” she teased him lightly and he quirked up a familiar smile. Again, it broke her heart. Did he have to remind her of his father so damn much?
“They are brothers.” He replied and Amber nodded in understanding, stifling a laugh at their interaction and yet then she was saddened…missing her own sibling rivalry with Brian. She inhaled sharply and Michael shot her a worried look. She quickly shook her head in response to his unspoken question. She needed to move past all of this and forget it. She needed to focus.
“Alright…so what do you have to tell me?” she asked then and Michael exchanged a look with Ryder before turning to her. It was time to get down to business. They were slowly running out of time.
“We have a plan to try to get them out. It may or may not work, but either way…the end game is that you help us and we will help you.” Amber looked at him curiously and he shifted on his feet, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck. “There are more people, more innocent people that will die and we need your help and the eventual help of your people.” Amber thought long and hard about this, or pretended to anyways, because the truth was, if there were people that needed her help, if there was absolutely any way to get her people back, then she was going to take it.
“Alright…how are they going to get out?”
Ryder shifted. “I’m setting them up a shoddy escape plan. It is all we can do considering the circumstances.” He replied and Amber felt worry make its descent into the pit of her stomach. Ryder cleared his throat and continued. “They may die or be captured again…but it is worth a shot.”
Michael looked at Ryder as if trying to determine something before he turned his sad eyes to Amber. “We won’t know if they make it until…well…I guess that is where we need to start explaining…”
And explain they did. They then equipped Amber with a map, a list of things she needed to do, and a bright red shirt. After the fifteen minutes was up she felt weighted down and uncertain, but she ran to the wood line as they ran to the truck. Michael nodded at her, and as per the plan she lifted her gun into the air and fired off five shots before bolting into the woods to her own truck. When she had gotten there, they were killing Biters and shouting excitedly for her to get in, asking repeatedly what had happened, if she was hurt. She didn’t answer them; no, instead she shouted at them to leave, her heart pounding heavily in her chest. She couldn’t tell them. If the plan was going to work she had to keep it to herself.
Fast forward.
Fast forward through all her distance and her paranoia. Fast-forward through all her family’s attempts to get the secret out of her, to find out what was wrong with her. Bring it up past Buddy’s and Derek’s madness, past the battle between Amber and Buddy and settle in on where Amber, George, and Damien all sat in the barn in silence.
Pause.
See where the relief at Amber’s acceptance of certain death on his behalf is painted all over Damien’s face, where Amber is nothing but a mess of jumbled nerves and George is anxious because he knows, he knows what Amber is about to tell him.
Play.
“…until the time is right.” He repeated and finally, stealing one last look at Damien, she began her confession. Time went by quickly as she explained who these people had been, what had taken place in the minutes after George and the rest of her family left. George had taken it all in stride, taking moments here and there in order to accept everything that he was hearing, but eventually, he accepted everything he told her. Whenever it came to the plan, however, she had hesitated.
“You won’t like it.” She confided in him, and he nodded. “But I am going to do it anyways.”
He studied her curiously. “Why wouldn’t I like it?”
The question of the day; hell, the question of the year. She wrung her hands together in a nervous fit before finally looking up at him sadly. “Because it requires you all going into their hands, seemingly as captives until it is done. Once it’s safe and the deed is done, Michael will come and you will all be free to go with them to a safe place.” She paused briefly. “Promise me you will make them all go there. They will not want to.”
George shrugged then, trying to seem nonchalant but the concern in his eyes was a dead giveaway. “Amber, I trust you. Of course I will do whatever is in my power to make that happen…but you know that I have to ask…what will need to be done before it can all be explained?”
Amber stared hard at her friend, his green eyes begging her for an answer. “I have to die.”
Fast forward again.
Fast forward to that night. Bring it up to where Buddy and Damien are still bound and unconscious from their highs; bring it up to where George and Amber are on watch and while everyone else is sleeping, open the gates, letting in Michael, Riley, Rusty, and about three other men that Amber didn’t know but knew that they would need in order to take their people away, with or without weapons.
Stop. Play.
Amber takes away all the weapons. Both she and George go through the entire house and scour every crevice and surface, every able body and they pull off the weapons one by one, carrying them and loading them into the red Dodge. They take the knives, the guns, the swords, and absolutely anything else that could be used as a weapon. They then went through and gathered all their water, their food, their personal affects, if they were able to have gotten any from the previous house, and they load them up as well. Before anyone else wakes up, Amber has a truck in the barn, all weapons gone and her family is packed and ready to be taken away while she loads up Damien and is preparing herself to take the long arduous walk to her death.
Maybe she wouldn’t die.
It was a nice thought.
Within two hours after sunrise Buddy wants to apologize. She urges him back into the house, worried really for his own safety. She doesn’t want him hurt, she doesn’t want any of them hurt. She loved them all too much. That was why she was going along with this to begin with; because it offered all of them freedom, a chance to make a difference, sec
urity, stability. She hoped the made the right choice.
Buddy fights against her urging and so she has no other choice than to hit him. Twice. After that she releases the whistle that alerted the men and they immediately jumped into action. And so, she sat in the truck, watching as her people were carried away to their future, whether they realized it was for the best or not.
Fast forward again.
Fast forward to the bridge because really, this is where the end is. The end may have started whenever she met with Michael. It may have started whenever they both formed a plan that worked for them, but it was where the end would be wrapping up its loose ends: there on that bridge.
Letting her people get taken against their will, lying to them, and manipulating them in order to save their lives: this was part of the plan.
Wearing the bright red shirt: this was also part of the plan.
Dragging Damien up the bridge, knowing that her people were bound and watching from the sawmill across the way: this was part of the plan.
It was hard, considering the fact that if Miles, Brian, and Shelly were alive and had made it out, that they would be there, watching as well. It took all she had not to go to them, to forget it all, grab them and run but she couldn’t. She had to hold up her end of the plan because if she didn’t…well, other people would die…people she cared about and they would continue to hunt for Amber and her people until they found them. She had been told that Adrian was obsessive and that he didn’t like to lose. She could see how that would be true. After all, the man captured people, experimented on them, and then killed them. The man sent his own people into a twisted game to perish for entertainment. Yes, she knew, he wouldn’t give up on finding them. He would consider it sport.
Making it to the top of the bridge and looking over at the water below and being both at peace and terrified: this was not part of the plan.
She was supposed to be brave then, not scared, and not wanting to look at the sawmill where she knew her people were. She was a mixture of both. Over recent days she had come to terms with everything that was to happen, with her fate, with the fact that her people would be so close and yet so far away; this among so much more. This was all for them after all. She would gladly lay her life down for them. She always would. She felt a bead of sweat fall from her nose as she looked over and it disappeared, not even causing the slightest ripple in the murky water. It was a high fall, one she would endure, if she made it that far. She only hoped that Miles, Brian, and Shelly made it out alive. She swallowed. That was what scared her more than anything because honestly, that part of the agreement was very risky; but it had to be done that way. They had to escape like that, with no help really, because Ryder needed to maintain his position with the enemy. He still had a family in the compound.
Hearing Damien say he was sorry in the muffled way he can without a tongue and telling him, of all things, that he is forgiven and that she was sorry as well: also, not part of the plan.
This was definitely something that surprised her, as both she and Damien had hardly communicated since they left the house; well, she claims hardly. Amber had been in her own turmoil since then, and she was slowly coming to grips with what she knew was going to happen. So whenever she heard distant footsteps and went to pick him up, his muffled word surprised her. She knew he wasn’t lying. He was telling the truth, trying to find atonement for everything he had done before his death, and she knew this. He regretted everything and she saw this. Tears had filled her eyes then, and peace and regret filled her heart and she told him that she forgave him, that she was sorry for hurting him in anger. She told him that she understood him then, somewhat to an extent, and he told her that he forgave her as well. She wanted to apologize for what she was going to have to do, but she didn’t for two reasons. Damien wanted this death, he found it honorable to die at her hands and if she were honest, she would do anything for her people, and that included easily taking his life, whether he wanted it to be taken or not. His last breath was going to be hers. The footsteps growing closer, she knew that they were ready. Gun in hand, barrel pressed to his head, they waited.
Toying with Justin’s unstable emotions: this was part of the plan.
Toying with Adrian’s emotions in the process: this was not part of the plan
But she enjoyed tormenting his sensitive emotions. It was almost fun tormenting her brother’s tormentor. Yes, Ryder had told her what Justin had done; had told her how brutal he was and she gathered the rest of it just by looking at the man. She took pride in seeing his reaction to her secret, at hearing the word spread. She knew that it would kill him, that it would warp Adrian’s already twisted mind seeing as he was so hell-bent on something only to lose it. But whenever she saw Brian, it was no longer enjoyable. She was angry. Why was Brian still there? He had lost weight; his skin was sallow and blood covered him. His face was swollen and he couldn’t talk. She wanted to hear his voice, and yet whenever he spoke her name it was almost her undoing. She never took her eyes off Justin but she still thought it odd that they only brought her Brian. Where were Miles and Shelly?
Hearing her people died at the hands of this crazed person: not part of the plan.
It hurt. Oh God did it hurt. They were gone, they were gone and she was too late. The entire plan was damn near for nothing. She had lost them anyways and Brian was slowly withering away. She couldn’t save him; she wasn’t meant to. He was supposed to have made it out alive; they all were. Still, the gun shook against Damien’s head as she thought of Miles and Shelly, as she thought of the talks that she and her best friend had, all of the strength and words of encouragement, the unadulterated love that Miles had given her. Now it was gone. All of it, gone, washed away and kept alive only by her memories. Her mind screamed its agony at this, and her soul was shred by the twisted claws of fate, agony, and hatred. She felt something within her cave in and tumble down and she was afraid then. She was completely afraid because she didn’t want to leave Brian without Shelly, and she didn’t want to leave Cassie, Michael, and Elliot without Miles. She couldn’t. She was so scared.
Telling Justin in front of Brian that Michael and his people killed all the others: this was part of the plan.
They had to come up with something believable that would lead Justin and the other men to believe that her people were really gone. They had to make certain that they would no longer be looked for or hunted. It was for protection and Brian’s registered shock and pain only served to make the blow all that more believable. Amber had asked why, with all of Michael’s people, didn’t they just rebel and combine their people to overtake these men and the compound and she was informed that even with all of these people, other people were trapped, that he, Adrian, had more resources and less of a conscious, if any, than they had; that if this wasn’t well-planned and thought out, and if the community as well as Adrian’s trust wasn’t infiltrated, then they would never make it. Adrian would rather blow up the entire community than risk going down. This…this was the only option that they had.
Putting an end to Damien’s miserable existence: this was also part of the plan.
This part actually ended up being more difficult than she intended it to be. She hadn’t shown any emotion whenever she did it, knowing that she couldn’t and that in the end it needed to be done, but whenever his blood and remnants of his brain and skull hit her, she felt it, the sadness and even though her ears were ringing from the blast of the gun, she still could make out the splash of his body hitting the water perfectly clear. At that point, if he didn’t want to die and if she didn’t have to kill him, she may have considered letting him live. She had finally been able to forgive him, and she meant it. Yes, the man had taken the lives of Kyle and Jackson, had kidnapped the others, she knew that it was because of Adrian that he did this. She knew it was because of Adrian that he was as twisted, confused, and desperate for death as he was. His body would forever stay in the Shallow Falls River.
Shooting Justin: not part of the pla
n.
It was one last thing she thought she would enjoy doing before her demise and she was right.
Getting shot by Michael and tumbling over the railing to her death: yes…this was part of the plan.
The shot had hit her in her right shoulder, causing her to sling her gun from her hand as she jerked back. It burned, and that was the only thought that crossed her mind as she felt her legs hit the barrier and she crossed over, losing her balance. She didn’t make a sound…couldn’t, as all she thought about was the burning sensation in her shoulder. It took her a moment to realize that she was falling, and it was when her stomach decided to leap into her throat that she remembered what she was supposed to do. Quickly, she crossed her arms across her chest, each hand reaching up and grasping tightly to the opposite shoulder. She then straightened her legs and she was as stiff as a board. And she waited for the water, her heart aching and screaming and pounding. It wanted to escape and she wanted to let it.
She had been told that it was going to hit her hard, and they weren’t wrong. Whenever she hit the water, she felt her bones shift, the feeling of her legs hitting her ribs made her breathless. She felt as if she hit a brick wall, her face slamming with the impact and her elbows jerking. It hurt. It was agonizing and yet still she found the resolve to surface, to gasp for precious air. She swam under the water for a moment, ignoring the excruciating pain she was enduring. She knew she would have actually died had she not been prepared because right then, her lungs aching, her ribs shouting at her, she knew she had broken or fractured something. After a moment, she finally surfaced and looked around her, seeing that she was hidden under the bridge. Brian…Cassie…Elliot…Michael…these were the only reasons that she came back for air, the only reason she allowed herself to breath and not drown, welcoming euphoria as water filled her lungs. She had heard that it was a nice death, one that she wanted so badly. She had lost it all, damn near everything she fought for.
