by John O'Brien
“I would say a shopping cart should suffice. However, keep in mind that some of the equipment is rather sensitive, so we couldn’t just toss it out a window to pick up later.”
“A shopping cart?! This just gets better and better,” I say, shaking my head. “Okay, Lynn, we’ll be bringing Red and Black Teams. If we go into the facility, Jan will have to enter with us, so you and your team are now permanently attached to her. We’ll see what we see when we arrive. Let’s be ready to go in thirty minutes.”
Taking two Strykers, we head north along the interstate, passing through the urban areas that spread out to either side. Business and residential buildings stretch everywhere I look. Although I’ve taken this drive many times before the world died, it looks alien like I’m passing through it for the first time. It certainly looks different by the light of the day, compared to being overhead during the nighttime hours. It’s a weird feeling as we transit through, gazing at all of the windows that stare back, knowing that more than a half million night runners lurk within the buildings. The streets that head off to the sides quickly pass by. At night, they are filled with night runners on the hunt, but now, there isn’t anything moving.
As we drive into Seattle, I see the wide bay in the distance, its waters sparkling in the sunshine. Near the waterfront, several ferries are docked. One lies canted on the shoreline, having apparently broken free. Ships are anchored offshore, their chains stretched tight against the tide. Cranes, rising high into the air, sit silently on the docks. We pass Safeco Field, where I enjoyed many summer days and evenings. Across the street is the football stadium, where I watched my poor Cowboys take a beating.
Downtown Seattle slides slowly by. I can’t imagine the mayhem that must have been prevalent during the early days. The fear and the panic that rode the streets. Crossing over the bridge into the northern part of the large city, we exit the interstate and pass by the University of Washington campus. Passing the large structure of the medical center we originally thought about entering, I’m glad we aren’t going in. According to satellite footage, most of the night runners have fled the city, but many still remain,. Knowing that several packs reside within the hospital complex, there’s no way I’d venture inside.
We turn into the children’s hospital, proceeding a short way up a tree-lined entrance. It’s still a large facility, but it’s nowhere near the size of the medical center. Jan guides us up a wide concrete walkway to the main entrance of the inpatient wing.
Exiting the vehicle, I look over the concrete and glass structure. The front section is two stories tall, quickly rising behind to four levels. Large windows encompass a lot of the floors on all sides. The entrance itself is under a large colonnade. More importantly, the windows and doors on the ground level appear intact.
“I’m going to take a look around the perimeter. Lynn, stay here with Jan,” I say, gathering Red Team.
Robert and Bri look at me with questioning expressions. I nod to them, letting them know that it’s okay for them to accompany us. I’ve told them numerous times that they are a part of Red Team, but have left them behind on a lot of the missions. I still have reservations about taking them inside buildings, and I’m not sure what I’ll do here. There is still an internal fight regarding building their experience versus keeping them safe. However, this is just a recon of the building, so I’ll hold off on a decision until later.
Walking around the perimeter of the wing we mean to enter, I don’t see any evidence of a break-in. Broken glass and tracks have been one of the chief indicators that night runners occupy a building. I open up and am immediately met with the sensation of many packs in the surrounding area. Within the building, I can’t sense anything, but it does feel a little fuzzy for some reason. That’s the best way I can describe it. I ask Robert to do the same. He reports a similar impression. The images that fill my mind from those in the area are almost overwhelming. I shut it down after only seconds.
The lack of breakage, not being able to sense any night runners in the building, and the video footage shown by Frank all reassure me that the building may not be infested. Again, I don’t want to take anything for granted and will proceed with caution, but I feel better about entering.
Returning, I have the teams gather wood from the nearby bushes and trees. Starting a fire on a circular walkway directly in front, we begin smoking ourselves. While we set about concealing our scent, I brief them.
“I don’t see any evidence of broken doors or windows. Nor do I sense any night runners. That doesn’t mean that there aren’t any within, but…” I begin.
“What do you mean by ‘sense any?’” Jan asks.
I sigh. I had meant to tell her, but one thing after another kept cropping up. Plus, it’s just not something that I like to talk about. “Yes, I can sense night runners. It’s a little hazy at times, but there it is.”
“Wait, wait, wait! You can sense night runners…like where they are?” Jan asks, incredulous.
Another sigh. “Yes, something like that.”
“How do you do it? I mean, did you have the vaccine? How is that even possible?”
“I was scratched in an encounter, and their blood entered the wound,” I reply.
“You might as well tell her the whole thing, Jack. After all, if she’s going to conduct research, she might as well know everything,” Lynn states, turning to Jan. “He can also talk to them and understand them. So can Robert.”
Jan shakes her head, trying to assimilate the information, as if we just told her that aliens have landed. I tell her how the night runners communicate telepathically, and how the sensory aspect works.
“And you’ve actually communicated with them?” she asks.
“Well, let’s just say that I’ve tried. They weren’t very interested in listening,” I answer.
“But you can understand them?”
I nod.
“And you?” she asks, turning to Robert, who also nods.
“I’ll be damned. So, you two,” she points at Robert and me, “can communicate with each other using that method?”
“Yes, in two ways actually. It’s like two separate parts. One that conveys imagery, and another that we share with words,” I respond.
“Can you also sense each other?”
“Yes.”
“Doesn’t that get overwhelming?”
“We can turn it off.”
She looks at me oddly.
“You are not sticking any damn needles in me,” I state.
She continues to stare at me with a strange expression, one hand on her chin, tapping her cheek with a finger.
“I fucking mean it!”
“Hmmm…” is all she says.
“The building?” Lynn says, steering us back to our reason for being here.
“The lab that will have the needed equipment is on the second floor, near the core of the wing,” Jan responds.
“Of course it is,” I mutter.
“First of all, are we going in? If we are, how do you want to do this?” Lynn queries.
“Red Team will lead. Lynn, you will follow with your team, keeping Jan safe. Robert and Bri, you stay with the Strykers,” I say.
“Why are we staying?” Robert asks, frustration evident in his tone. “I mean, I get the reasons for having to stay with the aircraft, but that doesn’t apply here.”
“Someone has to stay with the vehicles. If they aren’t here when we return, we’ll be stranded in the middle of night runner territory with nowhere safe to go before night falls,” I answer.
“Who is around that is going to drive two Strykers away? And, if that happens, we can call the base and have someone come pick us up,” he states. “You said we were full members of the team, but we’re always left out.”
“The radios to contact the compound are in the vehicles. Our personal radios won’t reach. Look, I know you think that I’m being unreasonable, but this has to do with our security more than being a parent,” I reply, ignoring his question of
who is around.
He looks toward Jan, and back to me. I know what’s going through his mind. If it wasn’t about trying to keep them safe, then why would I take in someone without combat training? Why wouldn’t I leave her as well?
“Because she’s the only one that can identify what we need,” I say, answering his unasked question.
In truth, it’s all about wanting to keep them safe. I could easily have left two others and had them accompany the teams. Lynn gets my attention and nods to the side.
“Jack, I never thought that I’d be saying this, but they do need experience,” she says, once we’re alone.
“What are you saying?” I ask, fully aware of what is coming and not liking it one bit.
“I could leave two of Black Team with the vehicles. Robert and Bri could accompany my team.”
“You’re kidding, right? Please tell me that you’re joking.”
“The building seems unoccupied and we’re not going that far in,” Lynn says.
“I can’t believe that you’re saying this. You are asking me to take the kids into a huge facility, when we have no idea what lies inside. No, Lynn, they stay outside!”
“Look at them. They’re not kids anymore. We have soldiers near their age. And, whatever you think, they are trained. You trained them yourself. Just look at what Bri and Robert have done. They’re able to take care of themselves, but only if you let them.”
I stand, my hands clenched. I’m angry, frustrated, and confused. Inside, I feel the two sides warring. It seems that my lot in life lately has been to deal with situations that have no right answer.
“You and your team already have one person to babysit,” I say through clenched teeth.
“What’s two more, then? And we’ll be in the back,” Lynn responds.
“There is no back inside a building like this. You know that,” I state.
She just stands in front of me, looking into my eyes.
“Fine! But they go with me. Assign two to remain and keep your team close. I’m going to check on the entry doors,” I say, storming off.
Before reaching the gathered teams, I turn over my shoulder. “And Lynn, when the move is completed, I’m finished with this leadership thing.”
She nods, and I continue.
I’m not angry with her, exactly; it’s the whole fucking situation. The easy decision is to leave them behind when entering structures. However, that may be doing them a disservice in the long run. I don’t like any choice I have to make regarding Robert and Bri. It’s not so much that there is a right answer, but that each option is wrong in my mind. Stopping for a moment, I take a deep breath to steady my anger and focus on what’s ahead.
“Robert, Bri, you’re with me,” I say, approaching the others.
I nod to Gonzalez and she teams up with Bri. Robert folds beside me. Even though I may have tamped down the anger, I still feel my pulse racing with tension. With the team gathered, we walk to the door, with Lynn and her team, minus two, following.
Walking under the covered entryway, I approach the glass-covered entry. A sign over the doors states that this is the “Giraffe Entrance.” With a tug on the door, it easily swings open. Through a secondary set of doors, we step into a foyer. Radiant light from the windows illuminates the interior, although the overhanging colonnade blocks out any direct daylight. To the left sits a bank of reception desks. The right opens into a large waiting room with a set of stairs that circle upward, disappearing into darkness. Looking back at Jan, who is surrounded by Black Team, I point to the steps. She nods.
I turn to Robert. “You stay close.”
“Okay, Dad,” he replies.
We start upward, the light fading behind. The carpeted stairs keep our steps silent. We are surrounded by the lingering smell of smoke. I walk slowly, with my M-4 aimed ahead. Robert shadows me directly behind. The stairs are open to the second floor. I hear nothing above: No sound of movement, breathing or otherwise.
The steps circle one hundred and eighty degrees so that we arrive in a small foyer facing the front of the building. Two hallways branch, one headed across the front of the building and the other leading farther into the interior. Closed doors line both halls. I pause, listening. Nothing. No hum of building equipment. No air blowing from ducts in the ceiling. It’s completely silent. Nodding to Robert, we take the hall that leads farther in.
It’s a short corridor that ends in a set of double doors. The edges are outlined with light. Confused, I pause and have Jan come forward.
“What’s behind those doors?” I whisper.
“The hospital proper. These are just offices,” she replies.
“So, why is there light showing? I’m guessing that we are about to enter the four-story section, so it can’t be from a skylight?”
“No, all of the patient rooms are glassed in, so I think that’s sunlight you’re seeing?”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” I mumble, thinking this might be easier than I thought.
That might explain why we didn’t see any night runners on the video, I think, resuming our cautious approach toward the doors.
I inch one of the doors open, almost blinded by the light streaming in. I ease the door open further and slip inside, the carpet giving way to linoleum. The hallway past the doors connects with two others to the left and right that lead farther in. After consulting with Jan, we turn to the right.
The corridor is lit by ambient light entering from the patient rooms. They are all fully glass-enclosed, with etchings of trees, squirrels, birds, and leaves. Some have butterflies in place of birds. The sliding doors opening into patient rooms are covered the same. Passing the first patient room, I see that it’s richly decorated, with a modern-looking hospital bed, and several instruments against the wall next to the bed. The second room is much the same, except the instruments are strewn across the floor.
The hallway bends in a zig-zag fashion to accommodate the shape of the building. The next few patient rooms are a total mess. As I pass, I notice several small figures lying on a stained floor. In a couple of them, there are only remnants of bodies or torn and stained hospital gowns. Feeling ill at the sight, I stop looking into the rooms. The light assures me that there aren’t any night runners in them.
As we make our way along, several exits lead into darkened interior hallways. Each of the wall corners are rounded and house nurses’ stations. I look behind one to find a figure on the floor, clad in the torn remains of scrubs. Dried blood covers the floor and is splattered on the walls. Staring at the sight, I’m confused. The building entrances and perimeter didn’t show any evidence of night runners, but the bodies and the other evidence points to the fact that we may not be alone. I’m not sure how they are getting in and out of the building.
I peel away an escape route plan taped to one of the walls. Sending Red Team to the next intersection of hallways, I motion Jan forward.
“Where is the lab?” I ask.
She studies the map, and points to a large room in the interior.
Taking the map, I advance to the next hall, where Red Team is standing guard. Looking down the corridor, I see that it intersects other hallways. The ambient light doesn’t reach far, leaving the corridors and rooms beyond in a deep gloom. The interior halls will be in the dark.
“Looks like this won’t be the walk in the park it seemed,” I state to Lynn.
“What do you think?” she asks.
“I don’t know. We’ll have to assume that we aren’t alone. We have a safe corridor along the outer halls, but who knows what we’ll face in the darkened hallways.”
“Do you think the equipment is worth the risk?” Lynn asks.
“I have no idea. Seems that is happening more frequently. I mean, what if we get her equipment and she finds an answer to the night runners? If she does, then yes, it’s worth almost any risk. However, I sadly lack the ability to see into the future. Sitting here staring at darkened halls, and knowing how much I love hospitals, I would say we tur
n around. But, it’s about the chance, isn’t it? If we don’t go, then there is zero chance,” I comment.
“Are you having a nice conversation with yourself?”
“No, not really,” I answer.
I stand at the intersection, pondering. It seems that I always knew what to do in the past, was able to see the right choice. I momentarily wonder if the move hasn’t altered my ability to choose clearly. I may be thinking too far ahead, to finding a truly safe haven in the midst of all this chaos. And with that looming possibility, I may be taking the easy route instead of the right one. If that is truly the case, then I’m in no condition to be making decisions. I’ve second-guessed decisions in the past, but not my whole reasoning ability.
Shit, even these thoughts bring more doubts.
Taking a deep breath, I shake my head. “Okay, fuck it. We’re going in. Red Team, you’re at the next intersection covering our six. Lynn, you’re with me. Have Black Team cover Jan like a blanket.”
At the next intersection of hallways, Red Team covers the corners. Although there is a faint amount of illumination, the area is still cast in a deep gloom. There may be enough residual light to keep the night runners away from this position. Only a couple of feet into each branching corridor, the light ends completely, leaving only darkness.
Lynn and I turn the corner. Assuring that my carbine is set to auto, I raise it and creep into the hall leading to the lab. I sidle near the wall, stepping silently. Slowly, I make my way down the hallway, Lynn keeping pace on the opposite wall. My heart feels like it’s in my throat and I slow my breathing to calm my heart rate. Once again, I find myself snaking down a hospital hallway. The air within is stuffy and cold.
All of the doors along the hall are closed. I pause at the first one, listening. Reaching down, I slowly push on the handle. It’s unlocked. I’m not sure that night runners have mastered the art of doors, but I’m not chancing it. It would be my luck that I run into a pack that can saunter in and out of them with nary a thought. After all, they must be entering and exiting the building somehow. That is, if they are leaving at all. Perhaps they are feasting on the food within the hospital. Of course, the evidence I’ve seen could be from weeks ago.