King's Gambit

The Winner Takes it All

In a sudden burst of anger, she rose to her feet, kicking the chair back with so much force it crashed to the ground.

"I'm not gonna leave you behind!" she protested, gnashing her teeth. Her fingers clutched the edges of the table for support. Thanks to the surge of adrenaline, she was able to ignore her shaking legs and fully able to direct her anger towards her brother's pessimism. "We can't give up! We'll just have to keep waiting for help and I'm sure -"

"No one will come to save us," he explained in a calm voice, gesturing around the cold, gray four walls imprisoning them, "We've stayed at this bunker for months. It's shut. Our resources have run dry two weeks ago. Neither of us is gonna make it out here alive. Not with the war raging above us."

"What if we endure it all for a little while longer?" she asked, fully desperate. She went over to the telephone station, the device resting in company of several scattered wires on a table below a malfunctioning old lamp, and picked it up. "I know the communication is a bit wonky but if we -"

"Wonky? It's not wonky, it's completely down. Since two months."

"It's – it's just temporary." With a flounce, she waved the telephone about and for a moment he was afraid she might drop it. "I'm sure some other government officials like Mom and Dad will come once everything is safe on the surface and we'll find a way out of-"

"This is our only way," he interrupted and calmly drummed his fingers next to the gun, putting emphasis on his next words, "This one bullet."

He was right. Only one of them was allowed the privilege of the easy way out. They had postponed this decision for as long as possible until it was time to finally settle this matter. She had always argued she'd never consider the possibility to be selfish and take the bullet for herself. Like earlier today, he had always tried to convince her of the opposite and she snapped back at him, causing once again an argument.

"I don't want this stupid bullet," she made a 'tch' sound and wrinkled her nose. Angered, she slammed the phone receiver back into its holder. A typical reaction for a stubborn teenager, finally acting more like her actual age.

As the older brother, he had taken the first opportunity to take the decision for her. That's what she hated the most. If he couldn't convince her, he'd trick her. It was his plan all along.

Her brother stood up. Light footsteps swept across the floor, approaching her slowly. Her eyes darted upwards to meet a pair mirroring her own. Soft-eyed, he firmly grabbed her by the shoulders.

"It's either the shot or starvation. Which one do you think is more painful?"

She averted her eyes. Her fingernails clawed at her upper arm, leaving marks on the pale skin beneath the fabric. It didn't hurt in the slightest. Starvation had made her resistant to any other pain than the one the rumbles caused in the pit of her stomach. The answer to his question was obvious. Left speechless, she had no counter argument at hand.

As if he tried to apologize for his harsh words earlier, he gently nudged her with his elbow and only nodded his head in reassurance.

"It's okay, really. We agreed that the winner takes it all. You're the winner."

"But ... but ..." she stuttered and her voice faded. No matter how much she'd argue, how much she'd try to deny, it was to no avail. The odds were against them and this was the bitter reality she had to accept.

"We've waited long enough for help. Let's not prolong our suffering more than needed." He pulled her into an embrace, side-eyeing the gun lurking on the table.