by W. A. R.
Michael chuckled and ran his fingers across his eyes. Only then did Amber realize that he had been crying. “We are a couple of complete messes.” Amber laughed at this as well and nudged his shoulder with her own. Their comradery came easily to them and she didn’t question it.
“That we are. Nothing a good night’s sleep can’t help fix.” She said, wanting desperately to believe her own words. It was a lie on her part to an extent because the memories would continue to haunt her. Everyone involved was either dead or on their way to the compound. She could ready herself for any confrontation between them late into the night. Michael glanced again towards the trees and sighed.
“Amber…” he began and she lolled her head back, pressing it back against the building. She groaned. His tone of voice was condescending in the slightest and she resisted the urge to smart off something. She didn’t need a lecture about anything at that point; or at least, she didn’t think so. “You need some rest.” True. “When was the last time you slept for more than an hour or two at a time?”
The night after Miles, Brian, and Shelly had been taken; the night after Kyle had died and she had fallen unconscious due to exhaustion and the blow to her head that Lance had given her. “A while.” She replied, shrugging her shoulders. “I’m fine though. Promise.” He moved a little and picked up the glass from between them and offering it to her. She sighed and took it from him as he began digging in his pocket. She watched him curiously, not saying a word but instead sniffing at the liquid in the glass to determine what it was. Water. After a moment, he withdrew his hand from his pocket and extended his closed palm to her. She lifted a brow at him in question. “Ummm…what is in your hand Michael?”
He grimaced when she wouldn’t take his offering and he turned his hand over, opening his fist. Two little blue pills rested gently in the palm of his head. Amber lifted a brow at him. “It is some Tylenol PM we found in a house when we came here. Never needed it much…but you do need it. You are exhausted.”
Amber turned from him, her cheeks burning. “I can’t. I need to talk to Miles before I’ll be able to sleep. I need to help watch over the town, get food ready…” She took a long drink of the water, not realizing how thirsty she was. She continued drinking the water until it was gone, and only then did she realize how bitter it was. She shuddered at the taste of it and shook her head. “…I need to practice…I need to develop some sort of plan and make sense of all of the information that I have…I need to figure out the layout of the compound and where Brian would be…I need to…” she glanced at Michael, who had already replaced the pills back in his pocket. The expression on his face was uncertain and she felt as if she were missing something important. She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’ve gotten awfully quiet.”
He shrugged, seemingly tense. The silence dragged out between them for several minutes. She looked up, studying the stars above her in the blue and black sky. She considered everything they had discussed, but she didn’t feel better, not really and she knew why. He wasn’t Miles. Still, she hoped that he felt better about everything that was weighing him down. “You need sleep.” He repeated his concern, catching her by surprise as he broke through her reverie. She turned to him. “You are no good to anyone without sleep. Your body needs rest, your mind and heart need rest…you are going to have a mental breakdown if you don’t.” He was right to a point and she knew that. Still…what was he getting at?
Amber sighed, conceding how right he was. “I know I will feel better after some sleep but…” her tongue began feeling sluggish and her eyelids heavy. A heavy calm settled over her skin, giving her goosebumps. Was she that tired? Yes…but, no…something wasn’t right. She could feel it. “What have you done?”
“What do you mean?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He looked halved between genuinely confused and worried. She tried to lick her lips but her tongue wouldn’t move. Her head rolled and she jerked to keep it upright. His eyes widened and he shifted in surprise, slowly rising to his feet. “Damn! That was fast…How are you feeling?”
“So…. tired…what…” she began but her body simply wasn’t working. It was shutting down so very quickly that she realized with a frightening intensity how worn out she truly was. Michael studied her.
“I’m sorry…we knew you’ve hardly slept in weeks. We had no choice.” He grimaced as she leaned back against the building, her feet slipping from their angle, stretching out her legs. She was so very tired, but the anger was still there.
“You…you…” she began but everything felt slow, unable to move. She was so angry and so scared in that moment to be falling into unwilling unconsciousness. She needed to stay awake, to protect her people. She would have gone to sleep eventually on her own.
“I knew you wouldn’t take the pills so I had to put them in the drink…I’m sorry but you need rest and Doc needs to check you out.” He repeated and she felt tears prick her glazed over eyes. Everything was becoming hazy. “And judging by how fast your body is reacting, you were running on fumes…”
“Amber?” she heard a familiar voice call out for her and Michael straightened, tensing automatically. “Are you out here?”
“Miles?” she croaked out, the edges of her vision darkening with the drugs that Michael had given her. So, he had come out there for her like she had known that he would. He was still the same. He still cared. The tears rolled from her eyes easily. She vaguely heard his footsteps as they neared and she struggled to keep consciousness. She struggled to see him, to know that he was there because he would help her.
“Amber?” He asked in maybe surprise or curiosity, she wasn’t sure…everything sounded so distant that it was hard to make out the words. She knew that he was right there but she couldn’t see him, as her eyes were slowly closing on their own. “Michael? Where’s…?” And then. “What happened?”
“She…sleep…Rusty…Amber…wounded…” The words were slowly fading out and the last thing she remembered was safe, strong arms lifting her from the ground as she hung limply from their hold on her. Before she could form any other acknowledgement the darkness of slumber overwhelmed her.
“Mom? Mom? Where are you?”
His voice…it was calling for her, reaching into the deepest part of her…Everything was dark her eyes squeezed tightly shut and she found it hard to open them.
“Mom…I’m scared…”
She could feel tears coating her face and through a sheer force of willpower she opened her eyes. The blinding whiteness of her surroundings startled her and she grimaced.
“Mooom….” The voice was trailing off and quickly she fought through the painful brightness of the room, desperate to find the speaker. She stood, easing to her feet and after a moment her focus grew stronger and she was taking in her surroundings. She was in a white room, with white walls, a white ceiling, and white floors. The crevices where the walls and floors met were almost indistinguishable because of the sheer brightness that stemmed from some light source she couldn’t see. The only discernable difference in the room was the singular door across from the very spot she stood. She swallowed thickly.
“Mommy?” She took one tentative step to the door. She was barefoot and the floor was cold against her feet. The white skirt that she wore swished against her legs as she moved, and the long, flared-sleeve white shirt she wore billowed as if there were a wind in the room. She took her time, moving decisively towards the silver handle, hand outreached for it. Her thoughts were blurred and she couldn’t make sense of anything that was happening or of anything that was racing through her mind.
“Mama…where are you…please…” the voice was achingly familiar, and as her heart clenched at the sound growing louder and louder with every step, she heard more voices chime in.
“Amber? Help us…” a deep male voice rumbled. Tears continued to fall from her eyes as the voices touched her, affected her. She couldn’t think of their names, couldn’t even begin to try forming their images in her mind.
&nb
sp; “Amber…the baby…he didn’t…” a saddened female voice told her from so far away. They were all so far away and she was still making her way to the door. She couldn’t move any faster, however, couldn’t bring her body to do it regardless of how badly she wanted to.
“Run! Get away from here!” Another voice called out to her desperately. She hesitated at the urgency of that familiar voice. There was a desperation for her well-being that was heart-wrenchingly accustomed to her. She knew that voice; she knew all of these voices…but no names came to mind. Whoever these people were to her, she knew that they were important…and she needed to find them. Her resolve allowed for her body to move a little faster and within seconds her hand gripped the doorknob. She quickly threw it open. Darkness was what rested on the other side of the door.
“Hello?” she called lightly into the darkness. A pain radiated through her shoulder then and she glanced over to see a bullet wound appear, blood beginning to trickle down her arm but she didn’t pay attention to it. It was as if she were disconnected from herself. She turned back to the darkness. There was scuffling around, the eerie sounds of boots sliding against dirt and asphalt. “Hello?” she called again, blood dripping onto the white floor from her fingertips. A pool of blood began to form at her feet on the white floor.
A sudden flash of light illuminated the blankness before her and with it the room behind her. She flinched against the surprise of light, turning away from it. Slowly, finding her courage, she lifted her head and lowered the defensive stance her arms had taken over her face. She looked at the once white room and cringed at the blood splattered and smeared along the walls. Her clothes that were once white were now crimson, her hands dripping the life-force of…who? Of what? She rushed back to the door, the voices increasing and what she saw almost made her vomit. The white light in her room flickered ominously, the luminosity not nearly as bright as before. It was dull, yellowed and the walls brown and red with blood and time decay. Another light flashed on in the adjoining room. There were people there on their knees, bound and crying out for her. She remembered their names then…how could she have forgotten? Her eyes took in the sight. They were in lines with strange men standing guard behind them. Jackson, Kyle, Britney, Elva-Jo, Katie, Derek, and Bobby-Jean were in the back while Shelly, George, Buddy, Jacob, Cassie, Brian, and Miles were in the front.
“Mom?” Kyle asked, his eyes still searching for her. They all were.
“Amber…where are you?” Brian asked, his face beaten and bruised.
“Get out of here!” Miles bellowed. Amber felt hot tears snake down her cheek. She began to feel desperate and aching, like she couldn’t breathe.
“I’m here! I’m right here!” she shouted rushing forward toward the room they occupied. As soon as she tried to cross the doorway, however, she was thrust back, landing hard on her back, her head slamming against the steadily increasing blood covered room. It was like an electric force field, she realized, and with this epiphany she scrambled to her feet. She had to do something. She rushed to the doorway, hands out and she touched it. The invisible barrier was hard and definite and she knew there was no way she was getting to the other side. Her eyes filled with fresh tears and she trailed her fingers down the barrier, looking at her people. They couldn’t see her or hear her…they kept calling for her, begging her to either save them or leave. She was torn…what could she do? In that moment, she watched as Michael was thrown to the floor beside Miles, landing hard on his knees. “No…” she whispered. She was helpless and weak. Blood still dripped down her arm and she didn’t care. She didn’t notice it, nor did she notice the blood building on the walls or the steady flickering of the lights in her room. She didn’t even notice the monsters, the Biters that were appearing in the corners, their hungry eyes searching.
She watched as Damien and Adrian stepped into view and she felt as if her heart might explode. She couldn’t find any words, but still she screamed and banged her fists against the invisible barrier. No one heard her, as she had known would happen and so she watched in turmoil as the two men with knives in hand walked up behind Jackson. Damien looked up then as if he could see her, as if he knew she was watching, and his face twisted with remorse and regret. He then quickly grabbed Jackson’s forehead and jerked him back, baring his neck. He placed the blade of his knife to Jackson’s neck and easily jerked to the right, slicing his throat. Blood pooled out and Amber screamed, tears burning her eyes. The crimson liquid covered Damien’s hand as he released Jackson’s forehead and Jackson fell forward with a loud thud that reverberated through her ears.
“One little…” Adrian sang haughtily as he followed Damien to Kyle. Damien gripped Kyle and did the same thing to him, slicing his throat. Amber screamed and fought against the barrier, falling to her knees as she watched on in horror. She felt sick but she couldn’t move. She watched as Damien released Kyle to fall next to his grandfather, splashing in the pools of blood that were beginning to cover the floor.
“Two little…” Adrian sang again and Damien moved to Britney. This process was repeated and once Damien had made her gurgle and choke on her own blood during her last breath, he released her. Adrian looked up at her then and grinned, as if he could see her.
“Three little Indian…” he sang and Damien moved to Elva-Jo. He was pale, sickly, as he performed this last act. Once he did his task, he looked up at Amber and straightened, arms spread wide open in acceptance. Amber felt a sharp pain on her right side, right above her hip and she screamed out, feeling blood coat her shirt and pants from the area where the pain radiated. Amber stared at him, uncertain and lip quivering and before she realized what was happening he collapsed to the floor, dead, half of his head missing. “Four little…” Adrian sang listlessly. Amber felt revolted, scared and she cried out, her fingers clawing at the force field. Adrian sighed, looking at Elva-Jo’s body before stepping up behind Katie. He did exactly as Damien did, only quicker and in a much faster succession. He dug the blade into her throat. “Five little…” he released her and she fell with a thud and he hastily stepped over to Derek. He was fast, the tone of his voice no longer whimsical. “Six little Indian.” he dropped Derek’s dead body. The blood was edging towards her now; it was all combining into a large pool, unable to be separated, all looking the same; crimson and thick…easing its way across the concrete. He moved to Bobby-Jean. Knife at her throat he jerked and ended her life before dropping her with the others. “Seven little…” Amber couldn’t breathe as he advanced towards Shelly. He grabbed her head and jerked her back, baring her throat, and slicing her wide open. He then lifted his head and grinned maniacally at Amber. “Eight little…nine little Indians…” And Amber knew he was talking about the baby. He then stepped over to George, eyes still on Amber, blood covering his hands and feet, the floor filling and Brian, Cassie, Miles, Buddy, Jacob, and Michael motionless. He jerked George back. “Ten little Indian boys.”
It was then she felt a sharp pain on her left shoulder blade, as if something were biting down on her. She felt a warm liquid flow down her back and she screamed, writhing against the fire that ran through her veins. Adrian watched on with interest as the blood of all of those he had taken met her knees through the force field. It soaked her white skirt, sticky and unable to be removed. The remaining few began chanting her name again, begging her to help or begging her to leave. The fire ran through her, and she felt sick, her skin practically glowing with the flames that were engulfing her from the inside out. It felt like an infection, whatever had hurt her shoulder, her hips, her back, the wounds, spreading like spider’s legs, red, feverish. It reached her mind, delving into her thoughts. She felt it momentarily halt the beat of her heart before it picked back up, racing. The very description of who she was changing and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly against it screaming and thrashing around. And that was when she felt the warm embrace, the feeling of someone’s arms tightening around her.
“Shhhh.” The voice comforted her and she caved. She crie
d for all she was worth for every loss and all of the pain. She thrashed and she screamed against the agony.
“Shhh. Amber, it’s alright, I’ve got you…” the voice whispered urgently in her ear as she jolted back to reality. Her eyes snapped open and she looked up at the man who was holding her still, keeping her calm. Miles. He had his arms around her protectively, comforting her from the throes of her nightmare. She had no idea where she was, and she was too overwhelmed to remember what had happened or to make sense of what was happening then. All she knew was the fear that engulfed her and the comfort she found in him. One look into his concerned brown eyes and she felt her face crumple into a twisted mask of despair and she buried her face into his chest and she sobbed, gasping for air. It was horrible, the sounds and the feelings still fresh, her senses overwhelmed by something that wasn’t real. Her hands gripped his shirt tightly; so much so that her knuckles hurt. She cried in the silence as he stroked her back, holding her tightly, until sleep and exhaustion overtook her body once more and she fell into a dreamless sleep.
Whenever she woke for the second time, it was slow and deliberate. Her mind was fogged over from the sleep. Her head ached dully, and her shoulder was laced with pain. Her entire body was sore, she realized as she turned onto her back. She noted the softness beneath her stretched out body and she slowly opened her eyes. Sunlight trickled in through the blinds of the room, temporarily blinding her and causing her to wince with the effect the rays of sunlight had on her. She spread one palm across the surface beneath her and the other she struggled to bring up to her forehead. Oh, it hurt. She was in physical agony and she knew why. She had been through so much within the last three weeks, she had been physically worn and this was not considering the fall she had taken from the bridge. She felt as if she had been in a head-on collision, her muscles, no, her very bones screaming from the tenderness that brought with it a painful sensitivity. She moaned against her will and clenched at the soft, fluffy…comforter?...beneath her. After a moment, she sighed, gathering her heavy breaths and licking her dry lips. Her mouth was like cotton, her tongue like sandpaper and she wondered just how long she had been asleep. Her body, though slow, began to wake, and she eased herself into a sitting position. She decidedly pulled her legs to the hang over the side of the bed…which was what she had been lying in. She held her head gingerly in her palm before turning to look around her.
