McAvoy pointed with his chin towards a building behind Rick. Rick turned to regard the building and its half-melted Supervalue Market sign. Upon examining the main doors, Rick found that they were jammed shut with debris.
Both men cleared away the rubble. After enough of the debris was gone, McAvoy knelt down examining the lock on the door. He slipped out a set of lock picks and got to work. A few moments later, they heard a loud click and the doors parted.
The metal on the doorframes screeched in protest as the two men forced the doors open along their metal tracks. The hair on the back of Rick's arms stood up and his body involuntarily shivered as the doors continued to shriek.
Soon the doors were open wide enough to slip inside. The air in the store smelled stale with a hint of mold and dust. Many of the shelves still contained canned foods, well past their expiration dates. Scattered across the floor lay boxes that had been torn open with their contents ate by some animal long ago.
A thick layer of dust clung to the windows making it difficult to see in the dimly lit store. From the light of his flashlight, Rick noticed the newly disturbed dust drifting in the air. The dancing particles reminded him of a similar sight he had seen on the night that he had lost his grandfather. The ash had been floating all around them much like this.
The nightmare of that night flashed before Rick's eyes, causing the paralyzing fear he had felt that night to return. A hand touched Rick on the shoulder, making him start. He spun around with his rifle at the ready.
"Easy, solider, it’s just me," McAvoy whispered. "I’ve been trying to get your attention, but you were in some sort of trance. Are you okay?"
Rick's pulse was racing, and he struggled to clear his thoughts. His knuckles were white from the tight grip he had on his rifle.
"Stand back!" Rick yelled.
"Easy, solider," McAvoy whispered again.
Sweat trickled down Rick's back. The air around him grew thick, and it became difficult for him to breathe. He wanted to run away, to get away. The flames still danced around him. He could hear Henry screaming for his grandfather to wake up. Tears rolled down his cheeks without hesitation.
A light flashed into his eyes, causing him to shield them. The moment was broken, and he found himself once again in the old market with his sergeant shining a light at his face.
"Morgan!" he yelled. "Can you hear me?"
Rick slumped to his knees, exhausted. McAvoy kicked the rifle away before kneeling down next to him.
He handed Rick his canteen. "Are you okay?"
Rick took the canteen and swallowed several gulps of water.
"I'm sorry, Sergeant. I'm not sure what happened. It felt like I was trapped in a time back when I was a kid."
McAvoy stood, dusting the grime off his pants. "You scared the hell out of me. I was sure I was going to have to take you down. Are you're sure you’re okay? Has this ever happened before?"
Rick let out a deep breath, calming his nerves. "No I’ve never experienced anything like that in my life. It was like I was back at my grandparent’s cabin the night it caught on fire. I was so paralyzed by fear that night. I felt the same way here when I saw the dust floating in the air.”
“Are you sure?” McAvoy asked.
“I’m pretty sure if this had happened on any other mission I would have been dismissed from the military immediately.”
“You’re right about that. However, I need to know if something like this happens.”
“Yes sir.” Rick replied as he took another sip from the canteen.
"Good, because we've got work to do!"
Rick and McAvoy went about pushing and shoving the shelves towards the outer walls of the abandoned market. Rick suggested they move one of the larger shelves in front of the main door since it didn’t shut easily, thus preventing any prying eyes or creatures from getting in. McAvoy agreed, so they muscled another shelving unit over in front of the sliding glass doors.
"Can you set up a relay so I can inform command that we've made landfall?" McAvoy said.
Rick nodded and got to work setting up the satellite relay. He felt Jacobson was better at it, but, unfortunately, he wasn't around. Rick clumsily got the relay set up and pulled out his tablet to begin configuring the device. Several times an error message flashed on the screen, but he persevered, despite his frustration.
A few minutes later, the device finally synced with the relay, and he was able to establish a connection back home. He signaled McAvoy to come over. The sergeant took the tablet and found a comfortable place to sit.
In the meantime, Rick went about setting up camp for the night. He took note of each of the exits, deciding which ones needed to be blocked and which ones needed to be locked.
Many of the windows were cracked or warped from immense heat, but they remained intact. He looked down at the digital display on his watch and saw that the temperature inside the store was a hundred and twelve degrees. Sweat ran down his back and the dry, arid air stung his lungs as he continued to rearrange the shelves.
After he moved the last shelf into place, Rick sighed and slumped to the floor. He glanced over to see McAvoy finish his report. After turning off the tablet, McAvoy stood and approached Rick.
"What's the word?" Rick inquired.
"It appears that our orders still stand, and we’ll need to continue with the mission. They desperately want that data core retrieved."
"What’s on it that is so important?" Rick asked as he took the tablet from McAvoy and put it away.
"Unfortunately, that information is above my pay grade. Honestly, something about this job has stunk to high heaven from the beginning. However, we've been ordered to carry out our mission, so that’s what we’ll do."
Rick nodded and then showed McAvoy what he’d accomplished while McAvoy was giving his report. McAvoy approved of many of the placements and made further suggestions to help improve some of the fortifications near the open entrances.
As they worked on the rear entrance near the butcher's area, the familiar pop and crack of automatic gunfire echoed through the empty store. When they raced to the front of the store, Rick noticed the worry that passed over the sergeant's face.
The comm came to life with Wells on the other end. "Sergeant, we are coming in hot! Jacobson and I need to know where the two of you are located."
McAvoy clicked on his comm to respond. "Morgan and I are in the old Supervalue Market, not too far from where we split earlier today. Head towards the front of the store, and we will cover you."
Wells acknowledged the location and the comm went silent. Rick continued to hear the crackle of gunfire out in the streets as the two men adjusted the shelving units near the main entrance to allow for Wells and Jacobson to get through. Once they finished, they took up their positions.
Rick was the first to spot Jacobson, who sprinted away from one of the side alleys, with Wells not far behind. Wells rounded the corner and then spun around firing off several quick bursts of cover fire down the alley. Both Rick and McAvoy tried to see what the two men were running from but couldn't see anything from their vantage point.
Jacobson raced across the street and reached the storefront first. He turned and fired several rounds past Wells. Wells wasted no time squeezing through the partially opened glass doors. Once Wells was inside, Jacobson quickly ducked through the doors behind him. Rick and Wells rushed to push the shelving unit back into place, securing the entrance. Jacobson peered out the old dusty windows with his rifle in hand, ready to open fire.
"What's out there, Wells?" McAvoy asked.
Rick could tell that Jacobson and Wells were a bit shaken by whatever it was they had encountered. Both men were hesitant to answer. Rick had never seen either of them act this way before. McAvoy repeated his question.
Wells let out a deep sigh. "Sir, what I'm about to tell you is going to make me sound like a complete loon. And, yes, we did encounter something out there, but I'm not sure how to explain it."
“How abou
t you just start explaining,” McAvoy said.
Jacobson continued to scan the streets outside as Wells slowly wiped his arm across his brow, trying to compose himself. "Sir, we encountered some sort of . . . it was . . . what I mean to say is that we . . ."
Wells looked to Jacobson for help. Jacobson shrugged his shoulders, not sure how to help.
"Just spit it out." McAvoy demanded.
Rick didn't like seeing both men as anxious as they were. Wells and Jacobson were generally the two levelheaded members of the team. He hadn’t seen anything faze them like this before. The clattering sound of multiple little feet scampering across the roof caused all four men to jump.
"What in the hell was that?" Rick asked.
Wells cursed as he raced over to one of the nearby ceiling vents, shining his flashlight into the opening. Something let out an unearthly screech and scampered away. He then asked Rick to grab something for him to plug up the vent.
Rick ran off while Wells tried to explain their encounter to the sergeant. A knot started to form in Rick's stomach. His mind churned. Something didn't sit right with him. He wasn't sure what it was, but he could hear Henry's voice in the back of his head, Follow your gut, more often than not, it's never wrong.
Rick's frustration grew as he continued to search. Why did he have to hear Henry's voice when something didn't sit right? Why did he always have to remember his older brother at times like these? When Henry left the service, Rick was glad to know that he wouldn't have Henry always chiming in his ear over the comm. Unfortunately, some subconscious part of him continued to use Henry's voice to warn him of something he hadn't perceived.
Rick found a few broken shelves near one of the windows and sorted through them until something bounced off the window near him.
"What in the . . . ?" he whispered.
Rick stood to see what had hit the window. As he stared out of the dusty pane of glass, all he could see was an empty street with a tumbleweed or two rolling away from the store. He turned to pick up the broken shelf when something struck the window again.
Rick clicked on his comm. "Hey guys, something weird is going on over here. I don't see anything outside, but something struck the window twice. Sarge, did you happen to drag out of Wells what they encountered out there?"
The comm remained silent for several moments while Rick kept an eye out on the street.
"Well, the best way to describe what they ran into was a large group of mutated squirrels." McAvoy said.
"Mutated what?" Rick asked.
"You heard me. Wells and Jacobson confirmed that they ran into a colony of hostile mutated squirrels. I have no clue what portion of hell we’ve stepped into. However, I need you to keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary."
Rick acknowledged the order over the comm line and then went to investigate the noise. There was a small crack forming in the window, where only moments before there hadn't been. When Rick leaned in to examine the crack, a fist-sized rock slammed into the window, shattering it.
Rick's reflexes kicked in, triggering him to dodge the rock just before it struck. He landed hard on his side and rolled over, leveling his rifle towards the shattered glass. A small fur-covered creature, no bigger than a cat, stood perched on the window sill. It's bushy mangled tail stuck up in the air while its beady red eyes glared at Rick.
The diminutive creature let out a feral cry and then leaped at Rick. He squeezed the trigger and unleashed several rounds that tore through it, halting its momentum. Outside, the creature’s cry echoed down the deserted streets. Rick turned his head to see McAvoy, Wells, and Jacobson running towards his position.
"What in the hell was that?" McAvoy asked.
Rick pointed towards the dead creature that lay on the floor. Both Wells and Jacobson confirmed that it was one of the mutated squirrels they had run into earlier. Another rock slammed into the window next to where they stood, creating a small spider web of cracks.
McAvoy turned to Wells. "How many of these creatures are we dealing with?"
Wells shrugged. "I don't know, sir; it was difficult to keep count while they darted all about us."
McAvoy turned and asked the same question to Jacobson. However, the specialist was too busy surveying the buildings and streets outside to answer. He held up his fingers signaling a count of twenty-five. Rick caught sight of something skittering along the roof on the building across the street and then another rock came soaring through the already shattered window.
Rick dodged to the side and opened fire. Several of the squirrels started throwing rocks, bombarding the storefront with their stone missiles. Jacobson took his rifle, started busting out the remaining glass in the window in front of him, and began opening fire as well.
The streets were soon empty, except for two dead squirrels lying in the street. Jacobson sighed as he replaced the magazine on his rifle.
"Those things are too damn smart. If I didn't know better I would say they are testing our defenses."
"That's not possible, is it?" Rick asked.
When McAvoy and Wells approached the others, another shadow raced over the roof of the building across the street. All four men leaned against the walls in silence, watching for any sign of the squirrels. A chorus of hoarse squeaky chatter from the roofs and alleys nearby broke the silence.
"We need solutions, and we need them now," McAvoy ordered as another rock crashed into a window on the other side of the store.
While Jacobson sprinted across the floor, a squirrel tried to squeeze its body through the broken glass on the other side of the store. Jacobson leveled his rifle and pulled the trigger. The pinned squirrel didn't stand a chance and was thrown back through the small opening as the bullet ripped through its body.
"Sir,” urged Wells, “these squirrels nearly executed a perfect ambush on Jacobson and me, so I would advise we hold our position. If we rig a few traps at key locations, we might be able to thin their numbers dramatically or possibly scare the little bastards off."
McAvoy nodded in agreement. "Set your traps and be quick about it, and make sure not to use any large explosives. We don't want the neighbors to know something’s up. These squirrels may be something we can handle, but if their grumpy neighbor wakes up, then it’ll be a short trip."
McAvoy took up the men's position while they raced off to set up some traps. Time passed excruciatingly slow for Rick as he kept an eye out for the squirrels. Every little sound made him jump as though it was his first time out in the field. The sweat trickled down his temples as he felt a hand touch his shoulder.
"Calm down, soldier; you've seen worse days back in Afghanistan. This is no different than the dozen or so other missions you've been a part of. Let your training kick in, and do your job. None of us are going to make it out alive if we're not calm.”
"Thanks," Rick whispered.
McAvoy smiled and slipped back to his position. Rick could see Jacobson busy at work rigging up some sort of device that would keep the small creatures from coming in through the vents. He could only imagine what devious trap Jacobson had concocted this time.
The comm clicked on with Wells reporting that both he and Jacobson had set up several gas traps in the ventilation system and blocked off the other openings. He had also done a sweep of the east side of the building, locking the bay doors and reinforcing a few of the outer exits.
Next, Jacobson jumped on the comm lines to confirm that he, too, had his traps in place and was making another sweep to ensure there were no exposed windows or open doors on the west side of the building. Then the comm went silent.
While Rick scanned the streets, he hummed the tune of his favorite TV show to help him relax. If Henry had been here, he would have slapped Rick up the back of his head, telling him to focus, all the while making silly faces at him. He wouldn't admit it to Henry, to the team, or even himself, but he missed those days back in Afghanistan when he knew his brother had his back. They always seemed to have been able to make it through the worst
of times smiling and joking along the way. Rick promised himself that once he returned to the States he would pay Henry a visit.
A cacophony of gunfire reverberated through the doors that lead to the loading docks. Rick quickly shot a glance over at McAvoy and then heard the comm burst to life with Jacobson yelling for backup. Wells jumped on the comm giving the all clear for his side of the building and then informed the team he was on his way to Jacobson. The windows to Rick's left exploded as dozens of fist-sized rocks flew through them. Shards of glass spun into the room.
Both Rick and McAvoy opened fire through the shattered windows, unleashing a barrage of gunfire towards the horde of grotesque mutated squirrels which dodged and ducked behind broken vehicles, signs, and other obstacles. The pop and crackle of gunfire echoed from behind Rick, reminding him that the squirrels were attacking on both fronts. It wasn't long before Rick's magazine was empty and he had to reload.
McAvoy signaled that he was out of ammunition. In response, Rick reached into the pack and took out two magazines. He then tossed one to McAvoy, who slammed it into his rifle. Rick could see the sweat on McAvoy's brow. He tried to steady his breathing as he twisted to peer back out the window. He saw twelve of the squirrels scamper about in the road, hissing and gnashing their teeth.
"I don’t know what the hell Jacobson and Wells did to piss these things off, but I’ve had enough. I’ve never seen anything like these things before. Have you? " McAvoy asked.
Rick couldn't take his eyes off the squirrels as they hissed and snarled.
He shook his head. "No, sir, I can honestly say that I've never seen anything like these creatures before. The squirrels back home were always super skittish and would run off if anyone ever got near them. These things . . . well . . . they look like they want to tear us apart. Call me crazy, but it seems like they are waiting for something, and it's seriously creeping me out."
McAvoy nodded his head and switched on his comm line. "Report in, Wells and Jacobson. What's going on back there?"
The comm remained silent for several moments before Jacobson came on, breathing heavily with the ring of gunfire in the background.
The Shadow Above The Flames Page 3