Haven

by Justin Kemppainen

  ******

  Citizen soldier Lieutenant Bates still hadn’t slept for what felt like days. He’d almost faded out just before the insane Russians came roaring into Gamma base and slaughtering anyone that moved. Ironic, because he’d likely have not awakened if he had fallen asleep with his concussion. Instead he was able to hide out, evading detection and execution. His head hurt, and his vision was constantly blurry.

  With extreme care and caution, he managed to locate, via his radio, a few of the surviving soldiers. They were rattled, demoralized, and terrified. With a little time during the past day, he had managed to gather everyone together and get them a little calmed down.

  Between the seven of them, including Bates himself, they had four weapons; three pistols with full clips, with no extras, and a submachine gun with only ten rounds. After taking a tally of their weapons, even he started to feel hopeless.

  “There’s something we gotta do. It’s vital to our mission down here. Once we take care of that, we can get the hell out of here.”

  Bates had been lying, of course. He fully expected that he and his remaining comrades wouldn’t ever see the light of day. However, he hoped that he could salvage something out of this doomed operation.

  The pitiful band soft-stepped around all day long, avoiding detection by being excruciatingly careful. In the late evening, they had arrived near the main square. They hid several floors up, occasionally peeking out windows. It took little time for Bates to realize that the exit point in the Escape was hopeless. Men were milling around, coming in and out. Any who went inside came out covered in blood. They kept bringing in buckets of water and various cloths, rags, and other cleaning implements.

  It was now late in the evening, and many of the workers had since stopped milling around. The morale of the soldiers with Bates was so abysmal at this point that they had entirely stopped asking fearful questions and making insubordinate remarks. They were all silent and stoic as though they were resigned to their fate. They probably are, Bates thought. At least we can go out with a bang.

  Bates had watched for a very long time. Eventually, he noticed, at the other end of the square, a couple of soldiers standing guard outside what looked like a little empty grocery store. At some point, he saw someone he recognized step out of the guarded building. It took him a while, but he realized it was one of the radio operators from Alpha. Prisoners. His cloudy thoughts swirled the idea around, and it took him a long time to figure out why the Old Haven people had taken prisoners.

  Then it dawned on him. That’s why there were no reinforcements. That’s why the retreating soldiers were cut down. That’s why there’s only seven of us left, Bates thought, shaking his head in dismay. The Inquisitors don’t even know what happened yet.

  Bates felt tired and completely strung out. It was late. His own watch had been broken in the explosion which had knocked him from his feet and given him a head injury, but one of the other soldiers was able to inform him of the time. It was nearly 11 o’clock in the evening.

  Bates’ tiny force moved into the alley. It appeared that most of the clean-up had ceased for the night, and everyone had bunked down for the night. Their task would take speed and precision.

  Bates made a quick hand gesture and sprinted out of the alley, through the shadows on the sidewalk when the Old Havenite on the right of the door yawned and turned towards the inside. Bates drew his 9mm pistol, only containing twelve shots.

  Hearing the loud footfalls the guard that Bates ran towards started to turn around. The other guard, on the left, peered into the darkness. He opened his mouth and shouted some kind of alert or halt, Bates couldn’t tell which with the ringing in his head. The guard brought up his assault rifle.

  Bates dropped to a knee and aimed his pistol. A resounding crack filled the air and the guard on the left’s head snapped backwards, a 9mm round punching through it. The guard crumpled to the ground without so much as a scream. A few more shots rang out and bullets whizzed by Bates as his men opened fire. The other guard, still in process of turning around and silhouetted by the lights inside the store, twitched and spasmed as several rounds penetrated his body. Before the man hit the ground, Bates was up and running again.

  “C’mon, hurry!” He shouted, figuring, from the noise and commotion, hell would rain on them very shortly. He ran directly into the store with his pistol in both hands. He nearly collided with another man on his way out. They each skidded to a stop and swiveled weapons. Bates blinked as the combined crack of two pistols firing simultaneously echoed in the small room. His round punched through the man’s chest. His foe fell backwards, crashing against shelving units and crumpling.

  At the same time excruciating pain shredded through Bates’ midsection; he dropped to one knee, gasping. His opponent’s bullet ripped into his stomach an inch to the left of his navel. A burning sensation filled his extremities as his ruptured organs leaked vital fluids, and a sticky warmth spread in his midsection. He coughed, tasting blood.

  His head felt like it was filled with cotton. He heard weapons fire nearby, although it sounded indistinct. Fire filled his insides and reality pounded at him as he forced himself to rise to his feet. He staggered forward, around another shelf. A small table was set up with a radio on it. A man with his legs tied to a wooden chair sat in front of the equipment, looking intensely afraid.

  When he saw Bates walking towards him, still in his Citizen’s military uniform, his eyes widened in recognition mingled with relief. “Wha- sir?” The expression turned to frightened shock when he saw Bates clutching his stomach, blood pouring from the wound and dripping through his fingers onto the ground.

  Bates spoke, his voice came out weak and horse, “Con…contact the surface. Tell… tell them…” He slumped against the wall and looked back towards the entrance. Two of his men were on the ground, bleeding. The others were crouched down behind cover and firing scavenged weapons out into the street.

  He looked over at the radio operator, who was just staring with his mouth hanging open. Bates found his voice again, “Hurry. We don’t have very long.”

  Searing pain ripped through his shoulder as a stray bullet flew past his soldiers and shattered his collarbone. The force of impact slammed him flat against the wall, and he slumped down to a seated position, his midsection screaming in agony at the bent posture. He looked over at the radio operator, who was frantically twisting dials and speaking into the receiver. The words were fuzzy, and Bates didn’t know what he was saying. Blood spattered the ground several feet in front of him as another of his men fell, clutching a gaping wound in his throat.

  Bates was vaguely aware that there was yelling and screaming, but everything swam into a gray haze. He saw another of his men stand up, firing a pistol with one arm extended and yelling. Stay in cover you moron, Bates tried to say, but speaking didn’t seem to work.

  His last soldier was quickly cut down as several other men rushed into the store. Bates tried to raise his weapon, but he discovered that his arm had no strength to it and barely any sensation. A man ran forward, just past him.

  There was a loud bang and a flash in front of his eyes; a short, sharp cry resounded as the radio operator tumbled backward, still tied to the chair. Bates saw a bleeding hole in his chest along with fading awareness in the operator’s eyes. A small brass shell casing, smoking from the heat of the gunpowder discharge tumbled into his lap. He stared at it, starting to fade out, then a shadow cast over him. He looked up, and a man was standing over him, holding a pistol. Bates mustered up a mocking smile. He coughed again, spitting up a bit of blood which landed on the man’s shoes. The man raised the pistol, drew it back, and slammed the butt of it into the side of Bates’ head. A brief red burst of static filled his vision, then blackness. Nothing.

  ******

  Rick rubbed his face with one hand; it smeared a few flecks of blood along with the sweat and grime. He had awoken two minutes earlier to the sounds of gun fire. He had thrown off a dirty blanket and sprint
ed outside of one of the nearby empty buildings wearing an unzipped combat jacket over a dirty undershirt, clutching his sidearm.

  Several other men had already come on the scene and were firing into the store. He saw the bodies of the fallen guards; both anger and relief coursed through him. What remained of his more-skilled soldiers had returned to the Highland, but he’d relieved them with a few of the older ones used to light duty. Not counted among the most skilled, but the dead men had still been good soldiers.

  Rick had dropped the last man at the front, who foolishly stood up from cover, and burst into the store. Past a gravely wounded man was a radio operator sending some kind of distress call to the surface. He shot the operator, feeling a pang of regret for the cold-blooded execution, but it had been the fastest way to cease the transmission.

  Now, after belting the wounded man who was smiling like an arrogant jackass, Rick felt a strong measure of dismay. The damage is already done, he thought. The radio on the table squawked as some person on the other end shouted for a response. Rick reached over and switched it off.

  He rubbed his eyes and shook his head. This could be bad, he thought.

  ******

  Kaylee finally found the opening. The search had taken her a number of hours, as there were several buildings to search with possible hiding places in each. Not to mention climbing up and down dozens of stories to reach the top and come back down again. The opening she found was tiny; she wondered how anyone had fit through it. It was a small circular hole in the ceiling of the bathroom of one of the condominiums.

  The Citizens had worked hard to reinforce the layer above to keep those below out, after numerous incidents. In most places, layers of steel, hard wood, or even city streets were more than enough to make the ceiling areas mostly impenetrable. but most of the work was needed in the obvious access points: elevators, staircases, and the like.

  Kaylee had seen a few others that had layers of concrete poured directly into the stairwell. There wasn’t any breaking through that, not without an immense amount of noise and concentrated effort. The broken seal she looked at now was a little older and less paranoid stricken, luckily for her. Hastily patched with only a few layers of wood and metal, easy enough for an adventurous Citizen to break through when he had a mind to do so. That plus cutting equipment and a free week, she thought.

  She had become very pleased that she had the foresight to grab a flashlight; in most of the buildings it was pitch black without any light spilling in from the street. She guessed that Malcolm could see quite well in the dark, but she didn’t know if he could still see in pitch black. She had taken her time and gone very carefully from room to room. As her beam swept across the bathroom ceiling, she had seen it.

  The temptation was unbearable. She knew that there most likely wasn’t any daylight left, but the thought of seeing stars, the moon, anything at all besides drab gray metal girders, support beams, and whatever else kept the sky from crashing down onto them, was agonizing. The rational part of her reasoned that she had no idea where to go, who else would be around, how they would react to her presence. She knew that she’d probably get caught within minutes.

  Still. The sky…

  She gave a heavy sigh and stared with longing at the small circular opening. She shook her head. It must have been a tight fit for them. Malcolm sat in the room with her, donning his customary silence.

  What could it hurt…? She thought, taking a deep breath and making her decision. Whatever, it’ll be important to scout this area. Feeling justified, she hopped up on top of the sink, set the flashlight between her teeth, and gripped the edges of the hole. She pulled herself upwards until her head poked through it. With the small beam of light she saw tiling and another sink next to her head; it was a bathroom very much like the one in which most of her still occupied, albeit cleaner. Her legs still dangling beneath, she reached up with one of her arms. She gripped the edge of the sink cabinet.

  With a few moments of struggling, she managed to sneak her other arm up through the opening and pull herself to a sitting position on the floor of the bathroom. She reached for the light switch and flicked it, switching off her own. Her eyes stung from the bright intensity of the light, and she squeezed them shut until they adjusted.

  Years of only scant, yellow lighting caused continued discomfort even after she opened her eyes. Under the piercing white bulb, her skin looked pale and sallow. She let out a small yelp as a gloved hand appeared in the hole, behind it a pair of slanted, glowing eyes. “Malcolm! Geez!” she hissed. Another hand appeared and he started to pull himself through.

  Kaylee put up a hand, “No, wait. You stay down there; I’ll be back in just a minute.” Malcolm disappeared back down without comment. She looked more closely at the opening. The floor was several inches thick, layered with wood and metal. She slowly shook her head. Nigel must have been very tenacious. That and out of his mind.

  She flipped the switch and the room went dark once more, her eyes already readjusting. Looking down, she could see Malcolm’s eyes shining up at her through the opening. It didn’t matter how benevolent he had proven to be; it still unnerved her. She shuddered.

  She reached out and gripped the doorknob. It turned easily and the thin, wooden door pulled towards her. A dark room lay in front of her, filled with spilled light of silver and gold and mixed shadows from some outside source. She flicked on her flashlight once more and played the beam across the floor. Thick, off-white carpeting, with a startling level of cleanliness that Kaylee was unaccustomed to, covered the floor.

  The layout of this place was the same as the one below, and the same as all the others. This didn’t surprise her much, as she’d been searching for several hours through a number of nearly identical flats, including the same window scenery of decay and desolation.

  Her mouth fell open when she saw the view out of the living room. Awestruck, she walked towards the bright, silver light shining through the window, scattering shadows from the blinds. She ignored the plush furniture, elegant and pristine. She passed right by the kitchen area without pausing to consider what manner of delicious food could be found within it. She walked directly over to the window and looked outside.

  The magnificent sight of the waning half moon, high above greeted her, along with the milky blackness of the cloudless night sky. A smile rushed across her face, and moisture formed in her eyes as she marveled at the tiny pinpricks of light dotting the wide, limitless expanse. She stared, not ever wanting to look away, for a long time.

  She gradually became aware that she hadn’t any idea how long she had been staring at the night sky. It had an odd shimmer to it, which, to her mind, seemed not quite right. However, it had been so long since she’d viewed it, Kaylee couldn’t be sure that her own memory could be entirely trusted.

  Finally, she tore her glance away, down to the street level. There wasn’t much to look at. Across the street was another building, not overly tall. It looked as though to be fashioned from a cloudy white material that she didn’t recognize. Up and down the structure, through windows both curtained and otherwise she could see the occasional light shining through. Looking down the street she saw a lamp on the corner. The sidewalks were smooth and clean. The street was unbroken, clear of any detritus or debris.

  A quick flash of bright light caused her to jump back from the window. With a quiet whoosh, a small, compact vehicle flashed by the window. She watched it, red tail-lights glowing behind. It was miniscule, barely wide enough to seat two people. It was also whisper quiet, only the sound of displaced air came with it.

  Remembering that Malcolm was waiting for her to come back and unaware of how long she had been lingering, Kaylee reluctantly turned away from the window and walked back over to the bathroom. Still staring up through the hole, she shuddered again as she saw his glowing, slanted eyes.

  Descending through the hole, she said a quick, “Let’s go,” to Malcolm who, as always, trailed along behind her as they descended the several stori
es.

  They came out into the street once more, and Kaylee took her bearings. She memorized the street. Just in case she took a piece of brick and scraped a large ‘X’ into the wall next to the door.

  She grabbed her small radio and contacted Rick. “I found it,” she said, excitement evident.

  Apparently, he didn’t share the enthusiasm, “That’s great,” his lackluster voice came back, etched with fatigue, “you better get back over here. We’re in trouble.”

  Kaylee was surprised, “What happened?”

  “Just get back here.” The other end went silent.

  She stowed the small communicator in her side pocket and motioned to Malcolm. The two started moving north once more. She took one last look around, making absolutely certain that she knew exactly where to go. Almost involuntary, she took a look up towards the sky. A twinge of despair triggered in her chest as she saw not a brilliant night sky but a shadowy jumble of metal.

  She took a deep breath, casting aside thoughts of the surface. I’ll get back soon enough, she thought.

  Chapter 29: Insomnia

  Gottfried found himself once again staring with his intense, hawk-like features at the same radio technician he saw before, still on duty. An audio recording played as the man sat with a grim seriousness about him.

  “…all Citizenship presence in the down below area has been compromised. I repeat. All Citizenship presence in the down below area has been compromised,” any composure the operator tried to maintain dissolved, and they could hear the sounds of gunfire in the recording, not far away from the man who spoke, “we were taken prisoner yesterday, forced to relay false information. Captain Redgick is dead. They knew we were coming, and they killed everyone. They’re well-trained, organized. Th-there’s nothing we could have done. I’m… oh God.” A loud bang resounded on the recording followed by heavy clatter. The operator across from Gottfried winced.