Afraid of the Dark

by Chris Hechtl

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Shane grimaced as he entered the hospital area. The former store was shaping up into quite a little clinic over the past week. He looked around until a nurse looked up from her chart and cleared her throat. He glanced at her. “You need something soldier boy?” she asked.

  Amused, he puckered his lips and came over. “Yes doctor Niederman asked to see me?” he said. He was curious as to why Jerry hadn't brought it up at council this morning.

  “Can't have any idea what for?” she asked. He shook his head so she glanced at her tablet. She tapped at it. “According to this he's making his rounds upstairs,” she said.

  “Upstairs?” he asked.

  “Downstairs is surgery, the ER and imaging. Upstairs is for stable patients,” she said pointing upward. He looked up and then nodded.

  “Works,” he said.

  “Just like a real hospital,” she said.

  “Right,” he said nodding. He went for the stairs.

  He went up the stairs to find a duty nurse at a desk nearby. She pointed to him and then to the right. He nodded and went in the indicated direction. He went through the curtain lined wards to where he could hear the doctor's quiet voice. He paused and then cleared his throat, not knowing what to do.

  “Yes?” the doctor asked looking at his shadow.

  “Go away,” the querulous voice of the patient said.

  “What's up doc?” Shane asked. Jerry rolled his eyes as he pulled the curtain back. A nurse came by and pinched him. “OW!” he said turning. She shook her finger at him and then smiled, still walking away.

  “As I was saying before being rudely interrupted...” he said rubbing his rear. “Hi,” he said nodding and craning his head to look past the doctor to the patient. He waved his hand. There was a forty-ish man there looking a bit pissed and despondent.

  “What's the problem?” he asked.

  “Um...” Jerry glanced at the patient.

  “So tell him!” the guy said. “Or I will,” he growled. He glanced at Shane. “I want a bomb. A big one. And somewhere I can plant it up an alien's ass. Hopefully more than one,” he said.

  “Um...” Shane's eyes went wide. “Something I'm missing?” he asked looking at the doc. They'd had their share of suicides but this was entirely new.

  “He's... his kidneys and liver have failed. Spleen is ruptured. Perforated intestines. We spent a lot of time patching him up but well... Acute internal organ damage from an alien attack,” the doctor said.

  “Uh...” Shane said, still not sure why he was here. The patient rolled his eyes and pulled his sheet back to expose the bandages around his midriff and missing arm. “Happy?” he asked.

  “No, not at all. I'm sorry you were hurt. Really I am. What the hell happened?” he asked.

  “Hell deer. Trampled him,” the doctor said. “Big one apparently. A stampede. He got caught and well...” he shrugged helplessly. “We've done all we can. We've patched up his spleen and ribs, but by the time we had found him he had acute sepsis. We've flushed the kidneys but they failed. Liver was smashed. He doesn't have a lot of time even with the machine's we've got.”

  “Ouch. Dialysis sucks,” Shane said with a nod. “My aunt was on it for a decade before they found a transplant,” he said. He knew the loss of the guy's liver was tantamount to a death sentence. “Why are you asking for a bomb?” he asked coming into the small chamber. “What about a transplant?” he turned to the doctor.

  “With his sepsis and damage there isn't a lot we can do. And in these conditions...” He shrugged and spread his hands helplessly. “We've got four liters of blood in him now. We're running dialysis but...”

  “But I'm running out of time,” the man growled. “I'm not getting any older. So I want to take out as many of the bastards as I can before I go. If I had a nuke I'd ram it so far up E.T.'s ass he...” he broke down in a coughing fit.

  “You want to die? Suicide?”

  “Suicide hell. I want to kamikaze a car into a nest. Just load it up with something nasty and point me in the right direction,” the man said. His eyes fixed on Shane. “Please. I don't want to die like this. In a bed. Let me go out helping people. Helping you,” he said. His pleading eyes bore into Shane's digging into his soul.

  Shane looked into those eyes for a long moment and then looked at the doctor. “How long does he have?” he asked quietly. The doctor didn't answer. He looked over to him and shook his hand. “Doc?” he asked. “Jerry?”

  “Um... a day. Maybe two,” Jerry said, voice rough. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry we can't do more,” he said feeling incredibly guilty and torn.

  “Not your fault doc,” the patient said gruffly. “It sucks I know. We all got to deal with the hand life deals us. This is my way,” he said glancing at Shane. “So what do you say?” he asked.

  Shane did some soul searching for a long moment. “All right,” he said softly before nodding. He got up and turned. Jerry gasped.

  “You can't...”

  “He's right doc,” Shane said gruffly. A pair of nurses in ear shot came closer. Another doctor pulled the curtain aside. “We owe him a clean death doctor. I'm not going to stand in his way if he wants to go down fighting,” he said. “Prep him for movement. I'll get with Walt and Kyle. We'll get you something. Have him ready in two hours,” he said walking off.

  “Find me the biggest damn nest you can find!” the patient yelled after him. He nodded once and kept moving.

  He nodded at a few people as he walked, but kept his face like stone. He managed to get to the back halls before pausing and clenching his fists. He felt the anguish then. The anguish doc had been going through every day for the past week, a taste of what his patient was going through. Hell he didn't even know the guy's name. He had to admire the guy's spirit. Then another thought occurred to him. What if Jen did this? If she wanted this. Would he stand in her way? Did he have a right to? If she was in pain? Hot tears burned at the corners of his eyes. He wiped at them angrily. A man walked past, slowed and looked at him in confusion. He waved him on, head down.

  “Damn it,” he said hitting the wall behind him. “Damn it all,” he said. After a long moment his hands loosened. Slowly the right hand reached up and triggered the mike.

  “Walt? I've got a job for you and Kyle...”

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Walt eyed the truck as they pulled up to the building complex. According to the latest intel said there was a massive Hellhound den inside. The apartment complex was swarming with aliens. He shivered. He could hear them screaming inside.

  “We really going to do this?” he asked as the tow truck driver dropped the bed and the car was lowered to the ground. They could hear aliens screeching inside the complex.

  “Looks that way,” Shane said watching Kyle as he rolled up and took one last look at the Honda. It had wiring running to tanks stuffed in the trunk and back seat. Bundles of shrapnel were taped to the roof, doors and hood.

  “You sure about this man?” Kyle asked the driver as Rick, an orderly carried him from a van to the car.

  “Just load me, alright?” the guy gasped. Rick put him into the car. Dave nodded to them as he unhooked the chains from the tow truck.

  “Good luck,” he said nodding to the driver.

  “Luck ain't going to matter much in a minute,” the man gasped.

  “You okay?” Kyle asked as he got situated.

  “I will be. Just a minute or two,” the man said. He looked up to the sky. “I'll be with you soon honey,” he said. “Alright light me,” he closed his eyes and prayed.

  Kyle closed his eyes and held the man's fingers in a tight grip as he did. Others around them bowed their heads as well. When the man was finished he opened his eyes and shook Kyle's hand.

  “Thanks man,” he said simply. He reached for the ignition.

  “Just a sec,” Kyle said and cleared his throat, wiping tears from his eyes. “Look this button is your remote detonator,” he said pointing to a red button tap
ed to the dash. “We don't have much plastic explosives, so we loaded you up with propane tanks and shrapnel.”

  “Whatever works man,” the driver said and then coughed. He wiped blood from his lip with a trembling hand. “Time to do this,” he said, turning the ignition key.

  “Damn man, hope to see you in Valhalla someday,” Kyle said. He griped the guy's fingers once more and then backed his chair away, slowly releasing his grip.

  “Get your people back,” the driver said. Shane went over to him and knelt by the door. He pointed to the complex.

  “There is your target,” he said. “God's speed.” He got up as the man slowly rumbled off. He turned and went up the street a bit.

  “What's he doing?” Walt asked watching.

  “Getting a running start,” Kyle said nodding. He patted his daughter's hand as she put it on his shoulder. “Its what I'd do,” he said quietly. She squeezed his shoulder.

  They watched as the little white Honda turned and then revved its engine. After a minute it took off, squealing tires as it ripped up the street. It made the bump past the driveway, slammed through the gate and into the center of the complex.

  “Back! Back!” Kyle said as they heard a mighty roar. A fireball rose into the sky followed by a column of smoke.

  Walt came up from a crouch watching the fire as it spread. They could hear the animals screaming now. “Good you bastards! Burn,” he said.

  “Burn baby burn,” Jolie said watching the flames spread.

  “We've got leakers!” Wayne said as flaming hell-hounds came out of the side of a building, busting through drywall and glass windows.

  “Take em!” he said, raising his rifle and shooting. Animals turned and screamed. The small arms fire and flames behind them, sun above them was too much. They emptied into the field and then rolled, trying to find a safe place.

  Suddenly the field erupted as alien snakes burst from the ground. “Back! Get the hell back!” Wayne yelled waving frantically to get his people back as the alien wyrms tore into the hell-hounds. He watched a writhing Hellhound topple as wyrms tore into it. Others leapt from second story windows into the now writhing mass of death below.

  “Talk about out of the frying pan and into the fire!” Walt said. “Damn man, what the hell are those things?” he asked. He got on a bumper to look. “Oh shit man, gonna barf,” he said after a moment and got down.

  Others emulated his looking, standing on the hoods of cars or on the bed of the tow truck to get a better view. Some were sickened. Others were so angry they enjoyed the show.

  “More things to worry about,” Shane muttered.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  He made an announcement during his fire side chat when rumors began to circulate about the driver being coerced into the kamikaze drive. He told them about the driver, how he was dying. “I want to set the record straight folks,” he said. “We lost a good man. A man who lost his family and was dying. He had nothing left to lose, but we did. The human race lost a hero today. A good man who wanted to go down fighting. We can only hope to do the same, to try to soldier on and live up to his example,” he said and then closed the intercom.

  Outside he found Jen waiting in tears. She folded into his arms and cried. He pressed his cheek against her silky hair and cried a little too. Cried for a friend he'd never get to know better.

  Chapter 24

  Torres, Wayne, and Hernandez recovered flash bangs from squad cars and police stations. They got Kyle to improvise more. Torres used her SWAT training to train some of the crew on assault tactics. One TAC team to make the assault, clear an area one room, one area at a time. One team with heavy weapons was held in reserve in case of trouble. A third team was a sniper team, in charge of leakers. A fourth team was behind them, out of the action standing by with medics. A fifth team was on the books as a special, heavy weapons team but only a few groups had them. Her methods become standard for Wayne, Hernandez, and Shane's groups.

  They used an empty house as a shoot house to train on day eleven of the invasion. Jayne had scared up some paint ball guns and a few of the other team members acted as the aliens once more. When they got too used to the house layout Shane got involved and had them move to another house.

  They did a hot wash after each exercise, working on what worked and what didn't. Torres had trouble handling criticism, both receiving it and in keeping her own civil and constructive. It was a learning experience all around.

  Gabriel offered to create a map in UDK for it. They were against it until he showed them a test map. Both of the Leons got into it. They agreed to allow people to train on it. “I'll put it on the mall net for anyone interested. Maybe you'll get more volunteers,” he said. Torres grimaced. Wayne nodded though.

  “At this point I'll take any help I can get. Even Julio's merry band is welcome,” he said. “If they can maintain fire discipline,” he amended.

  Ross oversaw the training when he wasn't busy checking in with security and working with Bob on the defenses. Everyone worked flat out, sometimes until they dropped. Doc acidly commented about people overworking in the heat. Fortunately since it was fall the temperatures were now in retreat.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Jayne received a call from the DMV girls. One told her they had people asking for jobs. One of the applicants was a licensed therapist. They talked to her. She got a hiring agent and posted it with them. The therapist was contacted and she was set up with Jerry to run therapy for people traumatized by the events and the loss of loved ones. They set up boards in the eating areas with lists of people alive and dead. Gabe set up the same board on the web and it was kept up to date daily.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Bob and the crews looked up at the familiar thumping sound coming from the air. He turned in place, shading his eyes. No it wasn't coming from... yes it was. He squinted, just making out the helo.

  “What the hell?”

  “I think they came out of the hospital,” Bob muttered. “Yeah, I'm sure of it.”

  The helicopter suddenly dropped a bit and pitched from side to side. Miguel behind him gasped. “Boss, there are people hanging on the landing legs!” he pointed. Bob turned back to him and then scowled up at the chopper.

  “What the hell is going on?” a super said coming over. “This a tea break I didn't hear about?” he asked.

  “Shove it man, something's going on,” Miguel said, pointing. The chopper began to drop in altitude.

  “Its... I think its' coming in here,” Bob said looking around. He was certain of it now, damn it there went his schedule for the day! Their parking lot was the only one not obstructed by stuff. They'd moved the light poles to the outer perimeter earlier in the morning.

  “Shit, incoming!” he said. He turned. Ross was humping over as fast as his twisted leg would allow.

  “Lay out an LZ for them. They need to land before someone gets his ass killed.”

  “All we need. Interruptions.”

  “Would you rather they fall on you?”

  “Now that you mention it, no,” Bob said shaking his head as a nearby cherry picker sputtered to life and then rumbled off to the outer edge of the lot.

  “Get a move on. We need to lay out an LZ.”

  “And we do that how?” Bob asked turning on Ross.

  “Y shape on the ground. The leg points in the direction of the wind.”

  “Um...”

  “We don't have time for it. Just clear the deck,” Ross said pushing people away as the helo dropped closer. It was definitely on final approach. They could see the pilot holding the controls as the contraption jogged in the air. One person lost their grip with their legs and dangled.

  “Move, move! Someone call medical!” Ross roared over the thumping. “Get them on standby now!” He moved backwards and then turned to see where he was going.

  About ten feet off the ground the wash from the helo came back up and the guy who had been dangling fell. He dropped to the ground and crumpled in a heap, r
olling and clutching at one leg.

  “Get him out of there!” Bob roared, ducking his head under the wash to grab the guy and drag him clear. Miguel was by his side, and then another guy. The second they grabbed the guy's leg he shrieked and fainted.

  “Broken I bet,” Bob yelled, moving him clear.

  “Shit,” Miguel said, grimacing at the sight of the bones poking under the skin. You wouldn't think dropping ten or so feet would do that.

  “What the hell?” Bob said as he caught sight of Ross waving his hand and stump of an arm to the pilot. Ross pointed to the other person clinging to the other leg and then ducked under the wash.

  The helo hovered just off the ground. Bob could see the woman hanging on for dear life, eyes screwed tightly shut. He grimaced as Ross got up to her and tried to pry her hands free. She kept shaking her head until he slapped her. Finally he could see her loosen her grip and fall onto the ground. She rolled and kept rolling. Ross followed.

  When he was sure she was clear he stopped and gave a thumbs up to the pilot. The pilot put it down and immediately leaned over and told someone to get out. There was a brief argument and then they started to pile out.

  “What's going on?” Bob asked as a guy opened the side door and waved frantically to them. He could see stretchers piled inside. “Shit,” he said looking over to the ambulance pulling up. “Miguel you got him?” he asked waving to the ambulance.

  “Sure boss, go figure out what the hell's going on will you?” Miguel said hefting the guy. Now that he was passed out he and his partner could handle the dead weight easily.

  “Tell the medics to prep for a lot of wounded incoming. Get a triage team here. Get Jayne and the others on the radio,” he said in Miguel's ear. He looked into the guy's eyes to make sure he understood. Miguel nodded.

  Bob nodded to construction workers who were hesitant about getting close to the whirling bird. “Let's get this thing cleared,” he said motioning for them. He ducked under the wash and made his way to the cockpit.

  Crews hustled in and started unloading wounded. He opened the co-pilot's door and the co-pilot climbed out and handed him a handset. He put it on over his ears and then adjusted the mike.