by Sam Sisavath
The young man stared back at her, and she couldn’t tell if he understood what she’d just said. Given the frozen look of shock and horror on his face, she couldn’t be sure if he’d even heard her at all.
Gaby helped him out by pointing at the access door behind them. “Get downstairs and look for Lara! Don’t leave her side when you find her! Do you understand?”
He nodded and almost tripped on his own legs as he tried to turn around before running off.
Gaby looked back at what remained of the airfield, now a dome of red and orange flames licking at the moonlit sky. The fire seemed to have a life of its own, multiple fingers flickering against the night and swaying to some invisible orchestra that only they could hear.
She stared, mesmerized by the unfolding destruction, her mind trying to comprehend what she was seeing. It wasn’t just the utter chaos and death, but the sudden realization that the planes and helicopters, the airpower that Black Tide had cultivated and given them such an advantage these last five years, was suddenly gone in a flash.
She might have stood there and gawked for hours if the pop-pop-pop from behind her hadn’t intruded.
Snap out of it! It’s not over yet!
Gaby turned around and looked toward the perimeter. The muzzle flashes she’d seen earlier, like Christmas decorations before, were gone. There was still shooting, but it wasn’t as continuous or as demanding of her attention. And they were clearly moving into the city now, almost as if they’d been given the signal to proceed.
She glanced back at the flames that had spread to the rest of the compound. The A-10 Thunderbolts and other aircraft they had been using for sorties over Texas—over Fenton in previous days—were stored down there when not in use. The airfield began about a hundred meters from where she stood, but extended well beyond this side of the city, encompassing the paved roads they had repurposed for runways.
It had been a trick. She knew that now. The enemy had made them—made her—look one way while they attacked Black Tide’s most important asset. The Warthogs and helicopters were inside the parking lot they had converted into an airfield, the silhouettes of machine wreckage she could barely still make out swimming in a lake of fire. The flames weren’t going to stop anytime soon, because there wasn’t just the aircraft and support vehicles down there, but also the fuel and…
The fuel.
It was continuously feeding the same moving carpet of flames that were spreading toward the school next door.
Soon, it would be moving across the street…
…toward us.
Gaby spun around and ran across the rooftop, shouting into the radio with every step and between every gasping breath.
“Lara! The flames! Get out of the building now! Get out! Get out, before it’s too late!”
Two
There were people in the stairwell, most of them freshly rustled from bed and stumbling around in the semidarkness, looking dazed. Some were carrying their own LEDs, while others were wielding flashlights. A few had their rifles, but more didn’t. There was a steady stream of people staggering their way out of the third floor, some still struggling to put on their belts.
We’re not ready this. God, we are so not ready for this.
Gaby pushed people out of her path, shouting, “Get out of the way! Get out of the goddamn way!”
Some did, but others were either too confused or didn’t move fast enough for her liking. Gaby shoved those people aside and jumped down the steps. She almost landed on top of someone’s boots but didn’t let that stop her.
“Get downstairs!” she shouted. “Grab your weapons and get downstairs!”
People rushed to move out of her way, a few hugging the walls or railing to avoid being run over. They were the smart ones. The not-so-smart ones got elbowed in the backs. She slipped around and went under and over the slower ones. There were enough lights to see with—the staircase had LEDs positioned along the walls—and the flashlights filled in the rest.
Gaby finally reached the first floor and darted through the stairwell door that was being held open by a man with blond hair, wearing a sling over his left shoulder. Springer was written on his name tag.
“Lara!” Gaby shouted at Springer. “Where is she?”
“Her security team took her out the back,” Springer said. “She told everyone to evacuate the building and get to their units.”
People were squeezing past her, flooding out of the stairwell and into the wide-open lobby. There was already a wall of Black Tiders gathered near the front looking out the windows and the open doors at the inferno moving toward them. Scared faces and confused voices were lost in the pounding of moving feet, but all Gaby noticed was that no one was leaving.
“Go!” Gaby shouted. “Get the hell out of here!”
A few glanced back at her, but most couldn’t look away from the approaching wall of flames.
Jesus Christ. Why aren’t they moving?
Gaby looked around and saw an M4 rifle leaning against the wall next to Springer. She snatched it up.
“Hey, that’s mine,” Springer said.
“Shut up. I outrank you.”
“That’s still my rifle,” Springer said, but mostly to himself this time.
Gaby ignored him and fired a three-round burst into the floor. That got the attention of the people around her, but not all of them. A few responded by lifting their weapons to return fire until they saw it was her. But not everyone had turned around, and Gaby fired two more bursts into the floor.
That did it, and the voices began to die down while faces looked over in her direction.
“Evacuate the building like you were ordered to!” Gaby shouted. “Find your units! Get to your units! Now, goddammit, now!”
They finally began squeezing through the twin front doors, but there were too many of them, and it was slow going. But at least there was movement now, and people coming out of the stairwell saw the flow of traffic and immediately fell in step.
Gaby turned back to Springer as people moved around her and the blond. “You said Lara left through the back door?”
Springer nodded. “Just before she gave the evacuation order over the radio. What are you—”
But she was already running away from him, pushing through the surge of confused bodies, trying to get to the front. The back hallway wasn’t as empty as she had expected. There were a handful of people who had figured out it was easier to exit through this part of the building rather than brave the rush of humanity in the lobby.
Gaby followed them, passing empty apartments that had been repurposed for command and control. A few of the Black Tiders were carrying boxes and equipment. She recognized a brunette struggling with a laptop coming out of a room in front of her.
“Angie!” Gaby called.
The woman stopped and looked back. “Gaby?”
Angie was a small woman—five-feet something—and thirty-seven years old, which was a lot older than the normal recruit. But she was smart and quick, and Lara liked her. Gaby did, too, even though she thought the woman was a little too old to be out here. Angie was part of the support staff; she rarely, if ever, had to go out into the field.
“Why are you still here?” Gaby asked her now.
The other woman patted the laptop. It was chrome and thick. “I had to secure this.”
“Forget it. It’s slowing you down.”
“It’s my job,” Angie said.
“Um, Commander, you still have my rifle,” a voice said behind her.
Gaby glanced back and was surprised to see that Springer had followed her into the back hallway.
“I’m keeping it,” Gaby said.
“But—” Springer was saying when a BOOM! tore through the apartment from the lobby behind her.
Gaby lost her balance and had to reach for the wall to stay upright. Springer was also falling, when Gaby grabbed him by his good shoulder with her other hand. In front of her, Angie’s laptop fell from her grip and slammed against the floo
r. It should have cracked (or worse) if it wasn’t designed to be tossed around in worse conditions.
Now what? Gaby thought as she looked over her shoulder, just in time to witness a wave of fire washing across the opening that connected her hallway with the lobby beyond.
Oh, dear God.
She swore the screams that followed were louder than the explosion, and soon they were joined by the pop-pop-pop of random bullets firing, all that gunpowder in the lobby ignited by the sweeping flames.
But it was the screams that dug deep into Gaby’s soul.
They were loud. They were so, so loud.
My God. Why are they so loud?
“Hey, what are you doing?” Springer said just before he grabbed her arm. “Hey!”
What…?
Gaby glanced back and was surprised to see him behind her. How had Springer gotten behind her when he was just next to her a second ago?
Heat caressed her body, trying to strip exposed skin from her bones.
Jesus, the heat. The heat…
And the screams. They were still coming from the lobby.
The screams…
“Come on!” Springer shouted. “You can’t do anything for them. Come on!”
He was pulling her down the corridor, away from the lobby. She thought she could see the reflection of flames behind her dancing across his eyes, but maybe that was just her imagination playing some sick joke on her.
“We gotta go!” Springer shouted. “We gotta go!”
Gaby looked back. The screams from the lobby had stopped. They were now replaced by the loud (Why is it so loud?) crackle of fire as it began to devour the remains of the lobby. The tiled flooring, the Sheetrock, the clothing…the bodies…
How many were dead? Too many. God, there had been so many people in the lobby. How many had gotten out in time? How many were still trapped inside when the flames reached them? Her best hope was that someone had managed to close the stairwell door in time, that there were survivors retreating back to the second and third floors even now.
And then what? Where would they go? There was no catwalk on the side of the building, no way down from the upper floors. There was the rooftop, but there was no way down from up there either unless you jumped. It was a long way down…
“Gaby, come on!” a new voice shouted. “They’re gone! They’re gone!”
She was surprised to find Angie also there, helping Springer to drag her away from the intense heat that swiped at her face, that drew sweat from her brow. The fire was already turning the corner and licking at the concrete walls and entering the open rooms in front of her…
Another BOOM!, this one coming from outside the building, though it had been close enough that the tiles underneath all three of them shook, and they almost spilled to the floor. But they held on by grabbing onto one another, Springer doing his best with his one good arm.
“Come on, Gaby, come on!” Angie shouted.
Gaby hadn’t realized it, but she’d been fighting Springer the whole time. She still was, even with Angie there to assist the wounded man. She didn’t understand what she was doing. Did she think she could help the poor souls in the lobby? There was no helping them now. There was—
Someone screamed from the lobby (My God, how are they still alive in all that?), but it was barely audible, like the last gasp of life that was quickly fading, fading…
She turned around and somehow managed to wrestle both arms away from Springer and Angie. The shocked look on their faces told her they didn’t understand how she’d done that, either.
Gaby ran past them, clutching Springer’s rifle as if her life depended on it. There were still people in front of her looking back at the chaos in the lobby, rooted to the floor. “Get going!” she shouted. “Get out of here! Get to your units!”
They began running, and Gaby followed them. She made a turn at the end of the corridor, even as Springer and Angie caught up to her. The woman had picked her laptop back up, while Springer was holding onto his sling and grimacing.
She felt like apologizing to the both of them—particularly Springer; she could tell he was in a lot of pain, most of that because of her—but there was no time. Talking meant slowing down, and slowing down meant thinking about all those poor bastards in the lobby, about all those unlucky ones that didn’t die immediately…
Stop thinking and keep moving.
Keep moving!
There, less than twenty meters up ahead, was the back door. Two men waving Black Tiders through were holding it open. It was easy to pick them out as Parrish’s men—a part of Lara’s security team—by their clothes and gear. Both men were wearing vests, gun belts, and carrying full-auto capable M4s. The only thing missing were their tactical helmets, but she guessed they hadn’t had time to grab those in all the chaos. Like all of their uniforms, they had Inguz emblems—two X’s stacked on top of one another—on the patches along their shoulders.
She didn’t recognize either man, but that wasn’t a surprise. After what had happened with Loman and Biden, Parrish had added an extra layer of security. These two were new, but why they were still back here when Lara wasn’t was a mystery.
One of them, a blond, was shouting at the stragglers as they disappeared into the dark alleys behind them. “Find your units! Monitor your radios for orders! Don’t look back, and don’t engage if you don’t have to! Go, go, go!”
Gaby was almost at the door when the pop-pop-pop of gunfire crackled from across the city. She had forgotten about what was happening out here after the chaos of the lobby.
The lobby…
“Commander,” the blond said when Gaby stepped outside. The man was six-two or so and carried his gear instead of the other way around. Like his partner, he was wearing a throat mic and earbuds, both connected to a radio Velcroed to their vests. “Anyone else coming?”
Everyone’s dead, she thought, but said, “I don’t know.” She breathed in the chill air. “What are you two still doing here?”
Becker was stenciled across the blond’s name tag. His partner was Goldman.
“Waiting for you, ma’am,” Becker said. “Boss’s orders.”
“Which boss?”
“The big boss,” Goldman said. He was smaller than Becker, but broad-shouldered and muscular where it counted. “It was the only way she’d let the captain take her to the backup OP.”
There was another explosion from nearby (Too close!), and Gaby glanced up, shielding her eyes with Springer’s rifle as glass showered the ground around her. A jet of fire shot out from a second-floor window above them.
“Jesus!” Springer shouted, hurrying out of the path of falling glass.
“We gonna help them?” Goldman asked, one hand over his head.
“How the hell we gonna do that?” Becker said.
There were six windows up there that Gaby could see. One was already gone, but the remaining five were lit up by flames raging on the other side. She could hear screams coming from within…
It’s so loud. Why are the screams so loud?
A flicker of movement from her left, and she turned her head in time to see a dark figure sailing through the air, seconds before he disappeared onto the rooftop of a two-story building nearby.
“That’s one way to do it, I guess,” Becker said under his breath.
“He made it,” Goldman said, “but what about the ones that didn’t make it up to the rooftop?”
“Maybe if we can find a ladder,” Angie said.
“What ladder?” Becker said. “Look around you, there’s no—”
Another window exploded above them, and they hurried away as another shower of glass sprayed the area. Streams of fire and smoke roared out of the second blown window, but somehow the third-floor windows above them still looked untouched.
But for how long?
“Jesus Christ,” Springer said. “How many people are still in there?”
Gaby blocked out his voice and the ones that responded—forced herself to push the
screams she could hear coming from above her into the background—and looked around instead. The last of the support staff were gone, disappeared into the alleys around them.
She looked back at Angie, still clinging to the laptop. “Stay with us. Lara will want what’s in that laptop.”
Angie nodded and almost looked relieved by the order.
Gaby turned around. “Let’s go.”
“What about—” either Becker or Goldman said (she couldn’t be sure who, because she was already moving).
Not that it mattered, because she cut them off before they could finish. “Lara. We have to get to Lara and make sure she reaches OP2 safe. That’s your order for the night. That’s your only order. Understand?”
She caught Becker and Goldman exchanging a quick look to her left, but she ignored them and broke off into a jog. Her thighs were aching, but instead of fighting it, she let the pain fill her up. It allowed her to ignore the screams coming from behind her.
She concentrated instead on the pop-pop-pop of automatic gunfire, seemingly getting louder…and closer…
Three
They hurried away from the apartment, angling away from the streets and constantly using the back alleys between buildings to stay unseen. Even if she didn’t already know where to go, all Gaby had to do was glance back and see the wall of orange and red behind her, and she knew where to run away from.
The school, the apartment, and most devastatingly of all, the airfield.
They were gone. All of it. The planes, the helicopters, and all the poor souls caught in the blasts. The enemy knew exactly where to strike for maximum impact. She remembered the sight of those muzzle flashes on the north perimeter of the city; the same ones that had drawn her attention had also lured the Quick Reaction Force. That was the plan all along. She knew that now, even as the heat from behind her radiated against the back of her neck and her ears continued to register the crackling of flames in the night air.
Somewhere behind them another window along the apartment’s rear exploded, followed by the loud clink-clink-clink of glass pelting the hard concrete pavement.