by John O'Brien
They all stepped into the living room and crept toward the locked front door. The door was locked fast with multiple deadlocks and a contraption of boards against it. Robert had stepped into the hallway in front of the door and a loud shriek erupted from near the back door along with feet slapping rapidly against the floor.
“Quick, into the basement,” Robert said knowing he would never get the front door open in time. Throwing the basement door open, they all flew inside. Robert shut and locked the door just as something big slammed into it. They fled down the basement steps and hid by boxes of mementos on the floor.
“What was that?” Bri asked.
“I don’t know,” Robert answered.
Robert’s phone vibrated and he answered, talking briefly. It vibrated again shortly thereafter and, again, the conversation was short.
“That was Dad. He says to be quiet, that he loves you, and that he’s on his way,” Robert said closing his phone.
“Night runner on the far balcony, second floor,” Bri hears a female voice call out over the radio, jarring her back into the present.
The radio call brings an increase in tension within her. She thinks of her dad inside as he issues an order for Cressman to take out the night runner. She remembers the times when her days were filled with being with her friends; missing her dad but thinking she had time to connect and see him later. It was always later. An overwhelming feeling of sadness envelopes her thinking of those missed opportunities and how fun it had been when they would all go to the drive-in; how free and open those times were. She sends another prayer outward hoping they will see this through and she will see her dad again.
She follows the events inside with the radio calls. Suddenly, shrieks emit through the entrance door, faintly reaching her ears faintly. The radio calls begin to take on a frantic tone and gunshots, well, more like gunfire is heard both through the radio when calls are made and the open door. Her heart beats faster and she hopes that everyone is okay. After a short time, she hears her dad calling for teams to pull back. The noise being radiated from inside is constant. Looking to the sky with another tear forming, she whispers, “Please, please, anything but let them be okay.”
Nic steps over and puts her arm around her, knocking her earpiece out. She doesn’t bother to put it back in as the feel of her sister’s arm around her is comforting. The sounds being emitted suddenly, and without warning, cease. Her heart jumps up a notch. Several minutes pass and she sees soldiers appear at the door hauling limp forms between them. She gasps loudly and runs toward where they are laying the bodies by the side of the door. She peers anxiously at each of them but they are so ruined that she can’t make out the features well enough to identify. Her stomach turns but she continues to look, hoping to find something that will tell her that none of these are her dad or brother.
She stifles a sob and looks up to see Lynn arranging a sixth body beside her. Their eyes meets; Lynn’s blue eyes red from a lack of sleep and tension, Bri’s from the forming tears and anxiety.
“Is my dad okay?” Bri asks looking at Lynn hopefully.
Lynn stands and wraps her in a hug, “Yes, he’s okay, sweetheart.”
“And Robert?” Bri asks into Lynn’s shoulder.
“Yes, hon, they’re both okay,” Lynn answers.
Bri sobs once in relief and thanks any spirits listening for an answer to her prayers.
* * *
The bodies of Delta are carried outside and laid by the front door. The soft moaning carries throughout the building at intervals. No other attacks, shrieks, or screams are heard. The few minutes of violence that once filled this space will be forever remembered but it is now just a blip on the passing line of time. The area will forever hold the fierce battle, the shouts, the screams, the gunfire and bloodshed that were created in this space and time but the world moves on and so does the passage of time and events.
“Red Team will join with Charlie. Lynn, Drescoll, move up on the left as before. We’ll try to stay in line with you. We still need to clear the building. Watch out for night runners that may still be hiding and for the injured ones,” I say getting ready to finish what we started. “We’ll move to the corner and then you sweep the back. Notify us when you turn the corner.”
“Copy that. Moving out,” Lynn responds.
“Will do,” Drescoll replies.
“Echo, cover your area but you’ll be the reserve team,” I say.
“Roger,” Greg’s voice responds in the radio.
We complete the sweep of the first floor without any further large scale attacks; or any for that matter. A few suppressed shots echo within as more injured night runners are put to rest with the added result that fewer moans and cries of pain are heard. Meeting up with Lynn and Drescoll in the back right corner, I have them take positions on the first floor to cover the balconies while sending Horace and Watkins, with Blue and Alpha Teams, up the entrance stairs to begin clearing the second floor. I take Red and Charlie up the escalator stairs, stepping over the pile of night runner bodies in the process.
The climb to the second floor is difficult as the steps are crowded with corpses. We have to step on them in order to make our way to the top as no part of the stairs is visible; the bodies move and slide beneath our boots making us stumble at times. Only a couple night runners still move under their own volition or moan and they are quickly silenced. By the time we reach the second floor, silence once more settles within the facility.
Horace and Watkins meet up with us by the escalator and we continue across the second floor finding only dead bodies. The numerous shelves are filled with camping gear, archery supplies, gun cases, and other miscellaneous outdoor equipment. The far end wall behind a gun counter is lined with rifles of every sort and the glass counter itself houses handguns of all calibers and models. Passing by a display rack, I point out the M-4-based DMR setup that Robert envied the many times we visited. He nods. The nod would have been normally accompanied by a grin but we’ve just lost a lot of friends and that weighs heavily on us. We check carefully in every nook and cranny but don’t find any hidden night runners lurking within. Assured that this part of the second floor is clear, I send Echo and Bravo to clear out the loading dock area.
Rounding the last corner upstairs, I notice a trail of blood leading away towards the restaurant set into the corner of the building. It looks like one of the night runners crawled away injured. The trail shows up as a dark smear in my goggles. I point it out to the members of the sweeping teams. Still slowly checking the aisles and tents that are set up for display, we follow the trail as it disappears into the eating area of the restaurant. Setting Horace and Watkins in a perimeter around the restaurant, I step inside with Red and Charlie Team.
Light colored wooden tables sit within the medium-sized, rectangular restaurant; some stand askew, others are tipped over and lying on the floor. Plastic brown and orange chairs add to the mess in the area. The restaurant is open to the rest of the store and the wet trail continues. Stepping carefully between the tables and chairs, I hear a low growl coming from behind one of the tipped-over tables just to my front.
Stepping up to the table with my M-4 at the ready and fully expecting a night runner to launch at me, I look over the edge. A female night runner lies on the linoleum-tiled floor. It looks up at me and emits another low growl that turns into a whimper. The light colored blouse is dark with blood and the jeans are soaked. The trail we are following leads directly to her. She was obviously injured at the railing and crawled here. Her eyes are full of pain she looks up and meets my gaze. I lower my carbine a touch and we just stare at each other.
I direct Charlie to search the kitchen area without taking my gaze off the night runner almost at my feet with only a table between us. She must have been shot in the abdomen or someplace near judging from the soaked blouse and the amount of blood lost. I haven’t seen a live night runner this close before without being pumped full of adrenaline and fighting for my life. The eyes still
have a humanistic look to them as much as I can tell with the night vision goggles on. They reflect in the greenish glow like a night animal. The light gray skin shines in my sight and I make out the pulsing, dark gray veins beneath the translucent skin. I hear her shallow, panting breath over the noises of Charlie Team clearing the kitchen area.
Mullins reports that all is clear as do Horace and Cressman reporting from the loading docks. I nod an okay to Mullins, “roger” the call from Bravo and Echo, and look back down at the night runner. Her pain-filled eyes continue to meet mine and she attempts another growl or moan but it comes out as a gurgling sound and blood runs out of the corner of her mouth. The fact that the night runner is a female gnaws at me somewhat, but I raise my M-4. I swear she looks through the pain and knows what is coming and is thankful. A muted cough echoes in the enclosed area. My round enters her left eye and explodes out the back of her head. A large amount of blood, tissue, and bone splatters across the floor and her head pitches back before slumping to the floor. With that final shot, the sanctuary is ours – for the time being.
By Candlelight
“Told ya we’d clear ‘em out, sir,” Gonzalez says as we stand in silence here in the dark.
“Although I certainly didn’t expect it to be like that,” she adds shaking her head.
“Yeah, me either. It sure came at a cost,” I say. Gonzalez and the rest of Red Team just nod as there really isn’t much else to say in that regard.
A search through the offices and customer service area yields the keys to the facility. I pull the teams out and send Horace and her team around to turn the generator on. Walking back inside with Lynn and our two teams, I insert the key into the lights and the building comes alive, awakening from its prior dormant state. The aftermath of our quick but intense battle unfolds with more clarity and the inside, especially on the right side, looks as if a hurricane swept through. Clothes racks and clothes are mingled with bodies with more dead night runners filling the area near the cash registers aisles. A haze hangs in the air drifting upward toward the tall ceiling. The reek of gunpowder and a slaughterhouse mixes together seeming to form a different odor with each breath.
Outside again, I look at the bodies lying on the concrete walkway; reminders of the world we live in now; reminders that we can’t afford mistakes. Mullins walks over and kneels by the bodies with his head hung. I wonder if he thinks he made a mistake coming with us. They were with him longer than they were with us but they were our friends as well. Other soldiers drift over to where they lie. I catch Lynn’s eye and nod toward the bodies. She nods in return. We don’t have the luxury of a proper service for them. They gave their lives fighting so that we can have a safe place to live and deserve better. Time is pressing so we all gather around the bodies to pay our respects, each in his or her way.
Finishing with our service and saying goodbye to our comrades, I gather Lynn, Bannerman, and Frank. “Our biggest priority is to get the doors and window coverings installed along with removing the bodies from inside. We also need to get some diesel fuel for the generators and lay our fallen to rest,” I say.
“Bannerman, will you see to the security doors? How many will you need?” I add.
“I think we can get them up pretty quick with two teams, assuming they have a maintenance department on site with the right tools,” he answers.
“Okay, how about you take Mullins and Greg? Oh, and if there’s time, we need to set up the base radio. Frank, can you take Alpha and find us some fuel? There should be gas cans and such inside if you need,” I ask.
“Sounds good,” Frank responds.
“I’d like to put Kathy and Kenneth with you Frank and the others with you Bannerman to help out with whatever you need. The rest of the teams can start removing the bodies. We need to make sure one team provides overwatch inside at all times. One team can find some shovels inside and start digging as well,” I say looking at the sun settling farther down towards the horizon. “The other thing I’d like to do is offer our cell phones to everyone to try and reach their families. Robert Bri, Nic, and I have working ones so anyone is welcome to use them.”
I am amazed that we have actually done so much in this day. I truly didn’t feel we would be this far along. Although there is still so much to do and still a trip down south, I feel relatively okay with where we are. If the doors and shutters were installed and working, I would feel even better. I still feel the time crunch however and may not be able to make the trip to Portland and get back before nightfall. There’s a good possibility that we may have to stay there overnight.
“I’ll see to the assignments and notify everyone that phones are available. Then we can be on our way,” Lynn says as Bannerman and Frank move off to start their tasks.
“Lynn, I really want you to come with but I feel like I need you here to make sure things get handled,” I say once we are alone.
“Yeah, that’s all fine and dandy but that’s not happening,” she says looking me in the eye. I see her mentally digging her heels in and completely understand how she feels.
“Seriously, I do trust whomever we would leave in charge, whether that’s Drescoll, Frank, or anyone else but I’m also leaving Nic here and will feel better knowing you are here seeing to the security. I know the others will do their best to get things done but I absolutely know you’ll make sure they do,” I say.
“I’m not entirely comfortable with not going with you for two reasons. One, well, that one is obvious, and two, without me, there’s only you with your kids and you don’t know how secure the place is down there is. I’d,” she adds with emphasis, “feel more comfortable if I was with you. We have over forty-eight armed soldiers here, Jack, and my being here or not isn’t going to make a lick of difference.”
“What you say is true. My only concern is making sure that this place is secure and prioritizing that,” I say.
“Look, Jack, Drescoll can see to that. He’ll make sure things get done and that they get done correctly. He’s a good sort and I absolutely trust him,” Lynn says.
“Hon, I totally hear you and, like I said, know what you say is true but I also would feel so much better if you were here overseeing everything,” I say looking into her eyes and seeing her stubbornness.
“Well, Jack, here’s the part where you don’t get your way. I’m going with and that’s just that,” she says planting her hands on her hips and taking a step towards me.
“Okay, okay, okay. You’re going with,” I say with a chuckle, taking a defensive step backwards.
“That’s what I thought. I’ll talk with Drescoll, give people a chance with the phones, and then we can go,” she says and turns to brief Drescoll.
I stare after her departing back and wonder just who really is in charge. Shaking my head with some degree of resignation, I gather up Robert and Bri for our journey south. We load up supplies of food, water, and ammo into one of the Humvees, checking to make sure it has plenty of fuel. Robert and I also replenish our empty mags and slide them into our vest pouches. I hear one of the other Humvees start up nearby. Frank and Alpha Team drive out of the parking lot and head off in search of fuel. Most of our small group come by and try to reach their family and loved ones. There is no response from any of the numbers dialed with most not even receiving a ring or voice mail. As we finish with the last of the loading, Lynn walks over with Michelle, Nic and Mom behind her.
“Ready to go?” Lynn asks on arriving.
“Ready,” I say shutting the rear hatch.
I turn to give Nic hug. “We’ll be back soon, hon. I love you.”
“I love you too, Dad,” she says into my shoulder.
I give her a kiss on the head and turn to hug Mom. “Be safe and take care of the kids,” she says.
“I will, Mom. I love you,” I respond.
“I love you too.”
“Robert, you’re driving,” I say.
“Okay,” he says releasing a hug with Michelle.
We climb in and sett
le into the seats. The sun is continuing its march across the clear blue sky towards its inevitable meeting with the western horizon. I look at my watch and am surprised to find it’s just a touch after 1800. Part of me feels like it should be earlier but another part is amazed how the day has flown by. Robert starts the vehicle and pulls out of the lot.
I watch Cabela’s grow smaller in the rearview. We have our sanctuary, or at least a major start to one, but it came at a great cost. We lost a whole team in the process and I have a sick feeling in my stomach thinking about it. I still wonder if we did the right thing with staying in and taking it rather than just finding another place once we spotted the tracks. It all happened so fast that there wasn’t much time to analyze it other than to just react. But a whole team, I think watching the building recede. That’s just too costly and we can’t afford a loss rate like that. Or any for that matter. We lost over ten percent of our force in a matter of minutes. In normal military terms, that is referred to as being decimated. Valiant soldiers, all good men and women, gone in the blink of an eye. This really makes me realize just how tenuous our situation is; or can become. The thing to do is make sure we add this lesson to our future endeavors, I think as we leave the area and turn onto the Interstate southbound.
I pull out my cell phone as Robert drives us past Olympia and down the lonely road. We are the only vehicle on the highway – moving vehicle that is. We pass by the occasional car or pickup parked on the shoulder of the Interstate. We pass by a rest area off to the side and see only a few cars in the lot. A body lies stretched over one of the green picnic tables; too far to be seen clearly but obviously not moving. I dial Kelly’s number as the scene slides behind us.
“We’re on our way,” I say once she answers and the hello’s are out of the way.
“Did you go see about Carrie?” Kelly asks.
“I’m sorry but we didn’t have the time. We’ll check on her when we get back,” I answer.