Taken anw-4

by John O'Brien

  Entering the gym, I notice our “guests” are crowded into the upper gym. I’m thankful the night runners didn’t get in and that we didn’t have to retreat and defend that high place. I didn’t realize we had brought in so many and that it would be so crowded. It would have been a slaughter as there just isn’t any room to maneuver. The main gym is empty with the exception of Red Team; complete once again.

  We gather in the middle of the floor threading our way through the cots and keeping an eye and ear out for additional night runner attempts. The vanishing all at once has me worried. I’ve seen them change tactics too many times in a similar manner — all at once — to believe they would just go away. I hope that’s the case but the occasional muffled shriek from nearby tells me it’s not. They are still around but it’s anyone’s guess as to what they are up to. I have only known them to be relentless and persistent. This vanishing all at once is a new trick but if they’re willing to leave us alone, I am all too willing to let them do just that.

  Coming down off the high rush of adrenaline, I suddenly feel very tired and plop down on one of the cots. The hard, wooden floor below is still polished to a sheen but scuff marks mar its once pristine surface. The others sit in a cluster on the cots around. I have two members of Echo keep a watch on the doors. I want us close together because I have no idea just where the night runners will emerge from next and want to be able to respond in force in any direction.

  Sweat still drips off my forehead and temples running down my face in single streams. Some run under the bandage still at my neck and sting the scratch that just won’t completely heal. It has to a large degree but not as fast as I normally would. My headache is fading again and I wonder if I still don’t have an infection of some sort from the scratch. The quick comings and goings of it are getting quite annoying to say the least. I shrug inwardly, I’m still breathing and my kids are safe — at least for the moment.

  “I have to tell you, that was a close one,” Henderson says quietly amongst the group breaking through my thoughts.

  “Yeah, no kidding,” I hear McCafferty say. “They almost got in. My back is never going to be the same.”

  “Yeah, that one too. I was talking about the spotlight when we were going in through the fence though,” Henderson states.

  “Oh, shit yeah,” Denton chimes in. “That was fucking close. I thought they had you for sure.”

  “Yeah, you had me scared spitless, sir,” Henderson adds.

  “You thought you were freakin’ worried. I was laying there waiting for you to take the shot. I was like, ‘Why aren’t you shooting this guy? Shoot this fucker dammit.’ I didn’t dare move to call though,” I say. “To me, it was obvious he had us in his sights. But in hindsight, obviously not.”

  “Well, we were going to. Both Denton and I had headshots lined up and were about to pull the trigger when Sergeant Connell told us to hold off and she would make the call,” Henderson replies.

  “I could see their faces clearly through my scope. They were curious no doubt but they weren’t registering that they actually discovered something. Not to worry, Jack, I plan to keep you around a little longer. They didn’t have weapons trained on you and I would have made the call to fire if they made any movements in that direction,” Lynn says.

  “It was a good call but I’ll need a new pair of shorts pronto,” I say as several chuckles break out. “Plus, that spot won’t need to be watered for a while.”

  “That’s true. I’ll attest to that. I was in the direct line of your, um, inadvertent discharge,” Greg says with a huge grin.

  “Then you should be thanking me for the bouquet of flowers I sent in your direction,” I counter. Amidst the chuckles, I catch Lynn’s eye as she nods. That nod tells me she wants to talk alone so I rise and meet her off to the side, out of hearing range from the others.

  “Jack, I didn’t want to bring this up in front of the others but how in the hell did you hear that guard walking? I mean, he wasn’t even in sight,” she asks looking up with worried eyes. I notice her quick glance to the now soggy bandage at my neck. I knew this was coming but expected it later; like during one of my ‘I didn’t hear you’ moments.

  “I don’t know. I heard the scrunch of footsteps and it sounded like it was just around the corner. Must have been a trick of the night air, wind, or something,” I answer.

  “I didn’t hear it, ‘trick of the night air’ or not and I was nearby,” she replies.

  “I honestly don’t know,” I say.

  “Can you hear anything out of the ordinary now or something you can’t see?” She asks.

  I think for a moment and actually try to hear something I shouldn’t be able to. Nothing. Just the murmuring from the teams and those in the upper gym. No distinct words or similar hints of superior hearing. “I hear myself wanting to walk away from this conversation and wanting this night to end,” I answer.

  “Jack Walker! Stop it. I’m worried about your headaches and now this. And your wound isn’t healing right,” she says.

  “How do you know about the headaches?” I ask astonished. I had mentioned having one a time or two but nothing to account for her knowledge.

  “I see you scrunch your face up and rub your temples. You think no one’s watching but I’ve seen you do that frequently,” she answers.

  “Hmmm... Well, I can’t hear anything out of the ordinary now. As a matter of fact, my ears are still ringing from the claymores going off and the recent noise in the gym,” I respond.

  Her sparkling blue eyes, now slightly bloodshot from the smoke irritating them and from being so tired, look up into mine with that look that says she doesn’t completely believe me but also tinged with worry.

  “The headaches aren’t bad and they go away quickly. It’s nothing. If anything, there may be a touch of infection left over. That’s all,” I add. The look of not believing me continues. She tilts her head and purses her lips.

  “Okay, Jack,” she says with a sigh escaping, “tell me if it gets worse.”

  “I will,” I reply.

  “Yeah, right,” she says rising on her toes and kisses me.

  We make our way back to the cots. Robert and Bri come and sit next to me. I fold my arms around them grateful they are okay. I feel the absence of the stress and worry I had about their well-being. Don’t get me wrong, there is still plenty of stress but it is over what the night runners are up to and if we are completely safe yet. I feel Bri wince as I hug her tightly. I release my hold and look down to the rulers tied to her arm. A touch of anger builds toward those who hurt my little girl. They had better hope the night runners get them because they aren’t going to like it if I find any alive, I think looking at the socks securing her make-shift splint.

  Bri notices me looking at her arm. “Gonzalez made it for me,” she says.

  “How does it feel?” I ask.

  “I hurts a little but it’s okay,” she answers.

  I take her arm gently and look at it closer. I feel her wince again but it’s more from the anticipation of pain than anything actually hurting. Her arm is slightly swollen and red at about the midpoint of her forearm. I touch it softly and feel an increase in heat around the swelling.

  “Move your fingers slowly,” I ask. She opens and closes her fist. “Does that hurt?”

  “Only a little but it’s better than it was,” she answers.

  “Okay, it looks more like a fracture than a break. Keep the splint on and take this,” I say reaching into my pocket and pulling out a pain pill. I break it in half.

  Yes, I brought some. Force of habit I guess. We always brought some on missions and took them when there was a threat of action. That way you wouldn’t feel the damage and could keep going. I thought I had left those habits behind - the habits of mission preparation. I really thought that part of my life was over. I was happy living the relaxed life and those habits returning so readily and easily is not a comfort.

  The murmuring from the upper gym increases. I send G
onzalez and McCafferty to calm and quiet them. The night runners know we are in here but there’s no use advertising our presence loudly. Plus, the people need some reassuring. Their lives have been turned upside down quite a bit in the past months and this is just one additional episode. They can’t be having very warm, fuzzy feelings right now. I don’t want them thinking they’ve gone from one armed group to another with the same intentions.

  As the two women make their way to the side doors, a gentleman exits and passes them intent on coming to our little group. Gonzalez looks back and I nod. They let him continue. The man, dressed in jeans and a plain gray sweatshirt, makes his way to us. He looks to be in his late forties or early fifties and is in a modicum of good shape. His salt and pepper hair is cut short with what once must have been in a professional manner but now has tufts sticking out as if he has just risen from bed; which, he has. I rise and make room for him sweeping my arm in an inviting manner. He works his way through the cots and team members. I introduce myself and those around.

  “Bob,” he says shaking hands. He sits.

  “What’s the plan with us, young man?” Bob asks addressing me. If Lynn had been drinking milk, it would have flown out through her nose.

  “We have a place built just north of Olympia and you’re welcome to come with us if you want. You’ll be free to go your own way but you are invited to come,” I answer ignoring Lynn’s, um, startlement. “That is when morning arrives. Our plan for now is to wait out the night and hope the night runners don’t find an alternate way in. Do you know this place well?”

  “Night runners huh? Innovative and it fits. We’ve just taken to calling them demons. And yes, I know this place well. The only ways in that I know of are the pool and main entrances,” he answers. “And, I just wanted to make sure we weren’t being held here. There’s a lot of talk about ‘out of the frying pan and into the fire’ so to speak.”

  “No one is being held against their will. I mean, we’ll have to stay in here tonight but come morning, everyone is free to do their own thing,” I state.

  “I’m glad you fine folks happened along. What brought you here if you don’t mind my asking?” Bob asks.

  I reach over and pat Robert and Bri, making sure to avoid hitting her arm, on the legs. “They took my kids,” I answer. Bob nods. No other explanation is necessary.

  “So, what happened here?” Lynn asks.

  “That is a long, sad tale,” he answers and proceeds to tell us.

  The gist of the story is that the townspeople, or what was left of them, gathered together. They held up in the auditorium at night, built the fences and scrounged for food, water, and supplies during the day. They constructed the towers and accumulated firearms to protect themselves. They sealed the auditorium doors in much the same manner we did with the gym. Then, when they felt secure enough, they cleared the area as best as they could; bringing in the lights and generators and manning the perimeter at night. It was hard going but eventually the ‘demons’ started leaving them alone. The townspeople started building a farm on the outskirts of town.

  Then the others came. Just a couple of them arrived at the gates. They seemed friendly at first and were invited in for a meal. They were invited to stay but said they had other friends to check on but that they might be back. That was the last they saw of them until one day, they returned from working on the farm and they were there in force. They had come in during the day, killed or captured everyone left behind, and waited for the others to return. There wasn’t much resistance as they were surprised and the marauders had planned the ambush carefully. After that, they were forced to work in the fields.

  A few tried to escape early on but were summarily gunned down. They separated the men from the women knowing the men would never leave without their kids, spouses, or loved ones and vice versa. They would go out and bring in others from time to time. That’s the way it has been until we arrived.

  The soldiers gathered just shake their heads. For the life of me, I can’t figure people out sometimes. I mean, a forced labor camp when we’re in the midst of this world changing event where our very survival is in jeopardy. How do they not see beyond their own noses? Seriously, wouldn’t it have been easier just working together? Once a bully, always a bully.

  “Well, I guess I had better get back to the folks upstairs and tell them what’s up. I wouldn’t want anyone doing anything stupid. We have a couple of hotheads there,” he says rising after finishing his story.

  “It’s a pleasure, Bob,” I say rising and extending my hand. “We’ll talk more in the morning.”

  “I look forward to it,” he says taking my hand and heads to where the others are waiting. He passes Julie who has entered the gym and makes her way to sit by Bri. A soldier moves over for her. Julie doesn’t even look my way as she pulls Bri close and starts a whispered conversation. Robert rises and sits next to his mom. Silence descends on the group. Lynn looks my way with her eyes squinting in a quizzical manner. I merely raise a brow and shrug. Yeah, this is going to be interesting. Well, I’m just glad the kids have their mom back. I can’t even imagine the stress, worry, fear, and sorrow they’ve been keeping inside. Julie and the kids rise and start away from our little gathering. I can tell Julie is uncomfortable being around the others, especially seeing I’m a part of them and leading.

  “Don’t go far,” I say to their retreating backs. Julie ignores me but Robert and Bri turn to give an, “Okay, Dad.”

  We continue sitting on the cots, wary of our situation but feeling a little more secure than we were just a short time ago when the lights begin to flicker. It’s dim inside to begin with but it’s definitely a noticeable change. First, it’s just a quick flash of the lights going off and then back on. Then, they begin to flicker in earnest with the dark winning out over the light. The darkness comes in longer intervals casting the entirety of the gym in an inky blackness with short glows of light in between.

  “Goggles on. Greg, take your team and cover the far doors and keep an eye on the entrance doors as well. Lynn, take Black and do the same for this end,” I say. Clicks of goggles being set in place are the only response.

  “McCafferty, tell those up there that it’s just the generator powering this place running out of fuel,” I tell her over the radio.

  “Will do, sir,” she replies.

  I am hoping it’s just the generator going out and that the night runners haven’t figured out how to manipulate them or gnaw through electrical lines — that move will be a self-critiquing one for them if they do try something like that. The knowledge and ability to manipulate machinery wouldn’t bode well for us at all. The gym is plunged into darkness as the generator, or whatever caused the loss of power, gives up entirely. The murmuring that was prevalent before falls to an eerie silence. It’s the silence of knowing something is about to happen. Nothing moves in the green glow as we observe the area beyond our little hideout.

  Only the slight rustle of cloth rubbing and boots squeaking on the hardwood floor is heard as team members shift positions. Not knowing where or when the night runners are going to come from is driving me crazy. There’s not a sound or sight of anything. I’m sitting with Lynn waiting for the first shriek of discovery. The thought that this could go on for an eternity, this worrying about night runners, is not a pleasant one and makes me even more tired than I already am. Is this to be our new life for all time - this sitting in wait and worrying about a night runner attack? This is definitely a different feeling than sitting all cozied up at Cabela’s with tall walls all around us. I’m going to have to accept that the night runners are now just a fact of life. Marauders of the type we just rescued the others from, well, I guess rescue isn’t the right word just yet, will unfortunately be a part of this world as well.

  “McCafferty, any sign up there?” I ask.

  “Nothing, sir. Quiet as can be,” she answers.

  “Okay. Have everyone up there sit down in case any shooting starts and tell them to stay down if
something does happen,” I say.

  Copy that, sir,” she responds.

  “What do you think?” I whisper to Lynn.

  “I’m not sure. It seems like it may have just been a generator dying,” she answers.

  “Yeah, maybe,” I say as the scream of a night runner faintly reaches inside. It sounds as if it’s coming from one of the campus buildings as before. It’s a reminder they are still out there.

  “Sir?” I hear McCafferty say in my ear piece.

  “Yeah, go ahead,” I answer.

  “Um, there are several people here asking to go to the bathroom,” she says hesitantly.

  “You’re kidding me,” I say. “Can’t they hold it a little longer?”

  A pause ensues. “Well, there does seem to be some urgency with some,” she answers.

  “Can’t they find a discreet location somewhere up there and just go?” I ask.

  “There’s not really a lot of room up here,” McCafferty answers.

  “Stand by,” I say. I look at Lynn and shrug as if to say ‘what the fuck do we do about that?’

  “We could escort them into the bathrooms,” she suggests answering my shrug.

  “Yeah, I’m not a big fan of that,” I say thinking the night runners are still up to something. I don’t like the idea of splitting our teams up nor having the others wandering about.

  “What else are we going to do about it?” Lynn asks.

  “Fuck, I don’t know. What is it with everyone having to go to the bathroom when I’m around?” I say.

  “Maybe it’s your personality,” she says shrugging.

  “Yeah, funny,” I reply. “Okay, take Black, secure the closest locker room and escort them. But Lynn, if anything happens, get back here. And I want you to be ready to come back on a moment’s notice if we need you in here.”

  “We will, Jack,” Lynn says.

  “Okay McCafferty. How many need to go?” I ask.

  “Sixteen, sir,” she answers.

  “Sixteen?! Really?!” I say shaking my head. “Okay, bring them down.”