Purple is the Face of Death

CHAPTER 5: ELDERS

That purple sky always bothered me. But at the same time, it had an eerie beauty that I can't help but stare at it.

"Take me if you want to. Take me now while I'm at my happiest," I whispered to the purple haze. It loomed closer day by day every time I gazed at the horizon.

"Hey Mack. What did you say?" the man across me took me out of my trance.

"Nothing. Isn't it your turn, Donovan?"

Donovan stared at the chess pieces and sighed. "I want a do over."

"No do overs." I gave him a steely gaze.

"Oh come on!" Donovan ran a hand through his shiny scalp. "I told you that I'm not good playing the black."

"Not my problem that you're a crappy chess player." I chuckled and adjusted in my seat. Donovan is the only other man I knew who was good with chess but certainly not a Bobby Fischer. He played flimsy defense. Tricking him into playing the black piece worked like a charm.

"So is this your strategy? Waiting for me to die before you move a piece?" I snickered. "News flash! It's working. You're boring me to death."

"What's the rush, old geezer? We're going to die anyway before the fevers get us," he retorted. He moved a rook across the board and took my queen. "If you're really in a hurry, you can give up now." He grinned at me, satisfied that he took a chunk out of my offensive power by removing my most powerful piece.

"Are you sure about that move?" I returned with a snicker of my own. I moved my remaining bishop and threatened his king. "Checkmate!" I announced.

"W-What? Impossible!" Donovan scrambled to move his king around the adjacent squares. His king was trapped in 4 directions by my 2 rooks, my queen-knight, and my king-bishop. My last move closed any pocket of escape. He sighed and looked at me with his bloodshot, purple eyes. "40 years and I still can't beat you!"

"I always told you to castle early, didn't I?" I reached out for the pieces to rearrange them. Donovan's hand shot out and beat me to the white queen piece. He already arranged more than half of the white side when I looked up.

"I stand a chance if I play white. I'll get you this time old friend." Donovan finished arranging his side and rubbed his hands together.

"Emphasis on 'stand a chance'." I smiled while arranging my line of black pawns. "You're not supposed to waste your time here. You should be with your family."

"What family?" he quipped while moving a white piece two squares forward. "You mean the type that abandons you in a nursing home?"

"Well, they're still family." I met his pawn with my own pawn piece by moving it two squares toward him. "We need all the support in these trying times, my friend."

"If this wasn't the apocalypse, I bet they'd be happy that I'm about die." Donovan answered back by moving his queen-knight. "You're the one who should be with your family, Mack."

"They're all dead," I said with no trace of emotion whatsoever.

"Mack. That's a bad joke." Donovan let go of the pawn that he moved.

"You lost your hearing too? You're not that old yet Donnie." I brought out my queen-bishop and took one of his pawns.

"A-are you sure Mack? Have you heard from them? Anything at all?" Donnie was so shocked that he forgot it was his turn to move.

"Donnie, look around you. You know what's happening around us, right?" Donovan and I checked our surroundings.

I loved the suburbia where I lived. Beautiful houses, tree-lined roads, fresh air from the mountains, and neighbors who don't give a hoot for each other. It's the type of tranquility that any cranky old man would crave. But the air in the last few months had carried a disturbing silence. Anyone can feel it. Death hung in the atmosphere like a dagger bound in hair-like strings.