Queen's Gambit Read online

  Thinking of all the people who push their limits.

  It’s hard work. Good Job!

  “Gotta raise a little hell.”

  -Dorothy

  “Chess is ruthless:

  you’ve got to be prepared to kill people.”

  -Nigel Short (b. 1965)

  Early on Monday morning, a man in a long coat and hat steps out from the back of a car. As he walks, the sun’s wake-up stretch casts a fifty-foot shadow down the sidewalk. Ten paces and he is out of the light and into an alleyway. On the next breath, he coughs. He’s here.

  Halfway across the alley, where the backs of the buildings meet, he sees a puff of smoke coming from a cracked-open door. “Blackjack?”

  The door opens. “Exeller, right on time.” A man in a hotel uniform raises his eyebrows while he takes another drag from his cigarette.

  Of course I’m on time, you piece of horseshit. “It’s going to happen this week, be prepared to move ASAP.”

  Blackjack exhales smoke to the side, then motions with his chin. “Take off your shades. I like to see who I’m dealing with.”

  Ha, you have no idea. “Understandable.” Exeller slides down his dark sunglasses and peers over them. “Happy?”

  Not freak-green. “Sounds like I will be, later this week.”

  Exeller slides his sunglasses back on and reaches into his pocket. “Take this cell, it’s prepaid and unused.” He holds open a plastic bag.

  Blackjack takes the phone from inside.

  “Keep it charged and on you at all times. I’ll be in touch with specifics when I have them.”

  Blackjack slips the phone into his pocket. “We still need one part, don’t forget. You told me—”

  Exeller leans in and growls through his teeth. “I know damn well what I told you and I will deliver it in time. You just take care of your part and be ready. I’m putting a lot of trust in you, BJ, and I hope for your sake that you hold up your end of the deal.” His lip quivers as he shifts his weight back.

  Blackjack nods. “I got it alright? Don’t forget who the enemy is—we can do this.”

  Exeller grabs him by the shoulders. “There is no ‘we,’ no you-and-me, no nothing. You got that?”

  “Jesus, calm the fuck down. I got it, now let go of my suit, you’re wrinkling the shit out of it.”

  Exeller exhales and releases him. “Be ready. Best guess is Thursday evening, but I’ll verify. It could be earlier.”

  I’m going to have to steam this after work. He scowls at his shoulder then looks back up at Exeller. “Yeah, just get me what I need, and let me know when it’s time.”

  Exeller turns and walks back the way he came.

  Blackjack watches him leave. What a psycho... But it doesn’t matter. We’re gonna make those bloodsuckers bleed.

  Charlie’s phone starts blowing up in his pocket. He checks to see who it is. That could be about a variety of things. He doesn’t answer. After a minute, it rings and he checks again. That can only be about one thing... He turns his phone off, takes a deep breath, and looks out the Jeep’s windshield at a large sign on the side of the highway. Welcome to Virginia. Virginia is for lovers. “That’s cute.”

  Sadie glances at him. “What the sign? I think it’s kind of weird. Who’s calling you?”

  “The sheriff’s office and the fire department. Our house is probably ashes by now.”

  She frowns. “That’s too bad. I liked that house.”

  “Yeah. Me too.” He imagines the walls engulfed in flames and the roof collapsing, but only for a moment. He turns around to check on Minnie. The little golden-haired girl strangles Valentine in a headlock while she sleeps. “She’s still a little red. Better though.”

  “I know. Poor thing. We’ll be extra careful for a while.”

  “Like a couple years. The age she’s at is the worst. I hate it.” He stretches and wipes his eyes. “Damn. I’m so tired.”

  “Me too.”

  Charlie sighs. Zombies. How the hell did this even happen? It’s so absurd. He sits up and turns toward his wife, communicating with his hands as much as his words. “This is fucking bullshit. I didn’t live four hundred years just to have fairy tale monsters ruin the world.”

  “Fairy tale monsters?”

  He nods. “Yeah, you know, from the Brothers Grimm.”

  Sadie turns toward him and squints for a second.

  “You know, that story about the kid who wanted to learn what fear was, so he hung out in a castle and a dead body reanimated and tried to kill him. I think that was the first zombie... And you know what? I wish that’s all zombies were—just scary, made-up stories. Imaginary.”

  Sadie grins. You never cease to amaze me. “Do you think humans wish that vampires were just imaginary?”

  Charlie scowls. “What? They don’t know about us.”

  “Actually, lots do. There’s one following us right now.” She glances in the rearview mirror to Skip’s truck.

  “That’s different.” He leans his seat back.

  Sadie side-nods. “Well, it’s different with him and the others we’ve told, but I mean the rest of the people that know. For example, the bastard that just burned down our house.”

  “Well… I mean, we’ve coexisted with them for millennia. Their and our history is intertwined. They can’t just wish we didn’t exist.”

  She shrugs and yawns. “Just saying.” She notices the sign for the Virginia Welcome Center. “Oh, here.” She lifts her phone from the dash. “Text Mary, will you? She knows we’re coming, but tell her we’ve crossed into Virginia.”

  “Alright. When we come to a rest stop let’s pull over for a bit. I could use a little break.”

  “We literally just passed the welcome center. It might be a while before another stop.”

  He groans as he texts Mary. “I hate road-trips.”

  She reaches over and takes his other hand in hers. “Charlie, don’t say it…”

  He hits send, closes his eyes, and rubs her hand. “Are we there yet?”

  She chuckles. “Yup, feel free to hop out at any moment.”

  Mary Wollstone steps out of a meeting at the Pentagon and heads down the hall to find a bathroom. Even though she’s a High Counselor in the House of Elders—making her one of the eight most powerful vampires in the world—she’s still not supposed to use her cell phone inside the building. She reaches into her purse for her phone as she steps into the bathroom, but she withdraws her hand without it.

  In the bathroom, someone is washing their hands. Mary has no intention of hiding in a stall to use her phone, so she steps up to a sink and mirror and pretends to care about her appearance. She adjusts her shoulder-length brown hair, then checks her immaculate teeth as the other person leaves.

  Mary bends and scans for feet below the stalls, then pulls out her phone. She sees the text from Sadie and smiles. They must have left very early, I wonder why. She sends a text, puts her phone away, then exits into the hall and heads back toward the meeting room.

  Prime Minister Hamid ibn al Zaman steps into the hall, and Mary rushes to reach him. “Sir, I’m afraid I won’t be able to make the three o’clock presentation.”

  Hamid turns and tilts his head down to look at the shorter woman. His crisp, bright eyes peek out from his dark, furrowed brow. “No? Something has come up?”

  “It has. Sadie Costanza will be arriving this afternoon, and I am going to welcome her.”

  His harsh facade fades, and a smile reveals a full set of cream-colored teeth. “Ah, that is good news.” He leans over, closing the distance to Mary. “Sadie is an important voice, wise and f
irm. She is a powerful ally.”

  “And a good friend.”

  “Very well. Collect a briefing from Vincent afterward.”

  “I will, sir.” Mary turns to make her way toward a stairwell near the courtyard, but her way is blocked. A large group of military and civilian officials is passing by.

  A woman in an Air Force uniform shakes her head. “Why can’t the protesters understand that we’re doing all we can?”

  A suited man responds, “They’re annoying, but I don’t think they’re unreasonable. Lots of people have loved ones living near The Line, or they had.”

  The group passes, and Mary sighs as she crosses the wide corridor to the stairs. The way things are headed, all of this is merely a distraction.

  Skip follows Sadie’s Jeep in his pickup. His arm rests across June when it’s free; she’s curled up under a little throw blanket with her head leaning against his chest. He occasionally rubs his hand along the blanket, feeling her presence under the soft fleece. She’s still there.

  Eddy naps through the music playing through his earbuds. His head rests against the window, leaving a little smudge from the oils in his skin. Skip crosses a seam in the pavement and can’t avoid a patchwork of potholes. The cab bounces around, and Eddy’s head raps against the glass.

  He wakes up, squints his eyes at the flashes of late-morning sun poking through the treetops, and yawns. He listens to the song for a moment, “…Oh hell yeah—Somebody gotta, gotta raise a little hell…” He pauses the music and pulls out his earbuds. “Jeez I’m tired.”

  Skip nods with the pace of a man who hasn’t slept, who almost lost the most important thing in his world, and who packed up his and his daughter’s whole life overnight. “Me too, it’ll be nice to get to the hotel.”

  Eddy leans over June to check their progress on the GPS. “Another three hours?”

  Skip sighs. “How are you feeling?”

  Eddy adjusts himself in the seat. It’s cramped. He stretches a little. “Good, I guess… Out of it though.”

  “Me too.” Skip rubs his thumb against the blanket over June’s hip. “Could you help me understand something about vampires?”

  Eddy rejuvenates some. “Sure, shoot.”

  Skip starts to say something, but then he stops. “I, uh, I don’t even know.”

  Eddy purses his lips in a humble smile. “Well, it’s a lot less crazy than it may seem.”

  “Really? It seems pretty damn crazy to me.”

  Eddy shrugs. “Vampires are people, but we’re just different.”

  “Different like drinking blood and healing quickly and transmitting—vampire-ness—to others through their blood.”

  “Yup.”

  Skip waits for more, but he doesn’t get any. He sighs. “Well Eddy, what else is different? June’s going to need to know, and I want to know so I can help her.”

  He looks pissed. “Sorry, um… Well, she’ll have to drink blood so that she can get hemoglobin. That’s what our bodies don’t make right, and when she does drink blood regularly, her body will ramp up its functions—she’ll be stronger and faster than a normal person. Oh, and I guess the other important thing is to limit sun exposure. Because our bodies heal so fast, damaged DNA can get replicated before...uh...a-top, no. A-pop—”

  “APOPTOSIS. Automated cell death.”

  Eddy nods. “Yeah, that.” He stares out the window and takes a nervous inhale.

  “Sure. She’ll just stay out of the sun.” A blast of light cuts through the trees and into Skip’s eyes. He squints, then groans. “Yeah, that’s not a big deal—it’s easy. It’s not like it’s a party of daily life or anything.”

  Eddy swallows. He’s mad at me… “Well, uh, it’s not that bad, it’s just a thing to keep tabs on, that’s all.”

  Skip sighs. “In sunlight, how often will she need blood?”

  Eddy rubs his hands down his thighs. “I mean, she should try to stay in the shade.”

  “Eddy, goddamn it, just answer me!”

  He clears his throat. “Before going out, she’d need to drink some, and then, to be safest, more every twenty to thirty minutes.”

  Skip stares out his windshield. “And if she doesn’t?”

  Eddy quivers. “Best case—”

  Skip speaks through gritted teeth, “WORST CASE.”

  Oh my god… “Okay, worst case.” He takes the deepest breath possible and talks at twice his normal speed, “Sunburn after a minute, sun poisoning in fifteen, and death as fast as a half hour.”

  Skip squeezes the steering wheel so hard that his fingers turn white and his wrists crack.

  Eddy sucks in and bites his bottom lip; every additional second in silence exponentially builds his anxiety. He twists to face Skip. “Are you mad at me? I’m really sorry I got everyone involved, and now June, uh—”

  “June WHAT?”

  Eddy swallows, and he starts to shake. “Her life is going to change because of me. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Skip.”

  “You messed up. Now, what are you going to do about it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You FUCKED UP, Eddy. June got hurt. And now—” He shakes his head and hits the steering wheel with the bottom of his fist. “She could fucking DIE, just by going outside.”

  “I wish I could undo it, I really do!”

  “You can’t! I can’t either, nobody can.” Skip sneers. “So, what are we going to do now, hmm? How are we going to help her? She’s going to need it.” He glances at Eddy.

  Eddy is shaking, his hands are gripping into his legs by his knees, and he’s taking fast, shallow breaths.

  Oh, hell... “Eddy, I know that you didn’t mean for anything about last night to happen. I know you’d never want to hurt June. I know that.” He sighs. “I don’t blame you. Okay?”

  Eddy holds his eyes as he cries.

  Skip thinks while the silence in the cab is permeated only by Eddy’s crying sounds. Skip rubs his eyes again. “Eddy, I need your help. I—” He clears his throat, steels his emotions, then reaches over and squeezes June through the blanket. With his movement, a bit of her black hair is brushed onto the blanket, shining in the light. “I’m all she has—she’s all I have. I don’t know what to do. I don’t understand what’s happening, and I’m going to need some help.”

  Eddy focuses on his breath; he slows it, then grows it deeper, calming himself. He wipes his face. “I swear I’ll do everything I can, and so will my family.” He reaches his hand out and puts it on Skip’s arm. “You, and June, have all of us too, now. She’ll get through this—we all will.”

  After a half hour, Sadie signals and veers onto the ramp for a rest stop. Skip almost doesn’t notice the emptiness of the lane in front of him, but at the last moment he finds Sadie’s Jeep on the ramp and quickly makes the exit.

  To busy himself, Eddy made a new playlist on his phone called DEATH BY AWKWARD, and now, he closes out of the app. “Finally.” He peeks at Skip, who doesn’t respond. He clears his throat. “Uh, are you feeling alright?”

  Skip shakes his head. “My stomach is acting up on me; combination of nerves, too much coffee, and too little sleep.” He takes another sip from a water bottle and follows the Jeep through the parking lot. Sadie pulls into a spot in the shade of a large oak, and he parks beside her.

  Eddy returns his phone to his pocket, then reaches into a lunch-sized cooler near his feet. Inside, there are a few pints of dog blood Skip stole from the vet, and a bottle of . He grabs the bottle. “Has June woken up, or even moved yet?”

  Skip clears some hair away from her face. Her eyes are closed, and she breathes warmly against his hand. He gets lost for a moment looking at her; his now vampire, but very alive, daughter. Thank god.

  “That’s a no?”

  “She’s still asleep.”

  Eddy takes a dri
nk from the bottle. “When she wakes up, she’ll be very weak, and probably really hungry. She’ll need blood.” Eddy waits a moment for Skip to respond, but when he doesn’t, Eddy continues. “And remember: she’ll need to drink blood or a blood substitute every time she heads out into sunlight.”

  Skip pets June’s hair. “Trust me: I got that part.”

  -knock, knock- Sadie raps a knuckle on the pickup’s passenger window. “Hey, how’s it going in there?”

  Eddy opens his door, grabs the bag he brought along—Sophia’s leather bag that he cleaned the zombie goo from before leaving—and steps out. “Hi Mom… Just reminding Skip about June and sunlight.”

  Sadie puts her hand on his shoulder. “Good, good. That’s crucial.”

  “Yup.”

  Skip gets out and yawns. “I don’t think I’ve gone without a night’s sleep in at least ten years.”

  Charlie makes his way around the back of the Jeep. He holds a restless Minnie in one arm. “I can take over and drive your truck if you want a break.”

  “Maybe.”

  Sadie motions to the rest stop. “We’re going to grab a bite. If you want, you could rest for a bit, and we could grab something for you.”

  Skip yawns again. “Thanks. I’ll eat whatever.” He opens his door and slides back inside.

  Charlie opens an umbrella to shade Minnie. “All set, let’s go.” He starts walking through the lot. “I hope they have pizza.”

  Sadie puts her arm around Eddy as they follow behind. “Or a healthy salad; you’d like that too. Right, hon?”

  “Salad? No. Pizza. You don’t make friends with salad.”

  Mary’s driver pulls up in front of her hotel. “Here you are, ma’am.”

  She glances up. They’re not under the awning; a large passenger-van blocks the way. She sighs. “Alright, thank you.” She gets out and walks toward the door. She can feel the warmth of the sun on her skin, and although she hasn’t had blood in a few hours, the sensation makes her smile.