The narrow hall is only wide enough for one person at a time. A very slight rustle coming from the bathroom brings her up short. It was subtle but it sounded like something shifting inside. Her heart rate quickens further threatening to pound right out of her chest. Gonzalez pauses waiting for another noise. Nothing else emits from the bathroom. It could be the house making noise as it warms up, she thinks. She lifts her foot to take another step.
The eruption of noise and movement startles her. Her heart bounds as adrenals kick into their highest gear flooding her system. It’s an explosion of noise from the bathroom. A shriek fills the narrow hall. Where, only a moment ago, the house seemed to be holding its breath, there is now an unearthly howl that shakes the walls and her very soul. The scream is accompanied by a burst of movement. Fast as lightning, a shape emerges from the bathroom entrance. Gonzalez shifts her red dot to the doorway. A night runner runs into her field of vision. Entering the hallway just a few feet away, it becomes wholly visible and turns with astonishing speed toward her. The face of her dad glows bright in her goggles. The shock is truly too much. She freezes.
The sound next to her ear threatens to stop her heart; the muted coughing like someone slapped her softly open-handed in the ear. Strobe-like flashes bounce off the walls and light the hall. Time slows. She watches in horror as the first round strikes her dad just below the left eye causing a splash of blood to erupt and spatter the wall. The round tears into the flesh, hits the cheek bone and continues into the sinus cavity. Slowed by the thick bone but its force not depleted, the bullet rips past the bone structure and into the soft tissue of the brain. Taking large amounts of gray matter and severing hundreds of blood vessels, it slams into the interior skull and imbeds itself.
The second round hits fractions of a second later above the left eye. The hard bone flattens the steel core bullet immediately with the forceful impact and it angles to the right. The force of the impact creates a small initial hole but, now flattened, the remains of the bullet crashes into the skull just above the left ear. It opens a large hole spraying blood and the gory remains of the brain against the wall with a loud slapping sound. The third round misses impacting the wall next to the back bedroom door.
The night runner’s head, her dad’s head, is flung backward. The upper shoulders follow, then the upper body. Its feet fly high into the air barely missing Gonzalez’ chin. The body then slams onto the hall floor with a thud. The house returns to silence once again. Gonzalez pans her carbine to the bathroom and other doors expecting another night runner to emerge and fearing who that might be. Her actions are by rote as her mind is still frozen by what she just witnessed. Her heart is sick with pain and her stomach threatens to spill the contents of her meager breakfast.
Nothing emerges. Gonzalez looks down at the body lying on the thread-bare carpet. Tears well in her eyes; her vision becoming a blurry green. The dreams her dad had for her and her sister lies unmoving on the floor, slowly seeping into the carpet. Her dream of better things for her parents fades with the last echoes of the muted gunshots in the narrow hallway in the middle of a rundown neighborhood. With her vision blurred by tears, she walks over and kneels by her dad. Cradling her M-4 in one hand, she reaches out to touch her dad’s cooling shoulder.
“Oh, dear papa,” she says in a shaky voice. The tightness in her heart threatens to spill into uncontrolled sobbing. A tear leaves her eye and make its way down her cheek under the NVG’s. She feels a hand on her shoulder and looks up to see McCafferty standing over her.
“I’m so sorry,” McCafferty says. What was held back now spills out into deep, wracking sobs.
* * * * * *
I kneel in the middle of the living room. It would be dimly lit given normal conditions but things are far from “normal.” With the goggles perched on my head but not lowered, I can see well. The furniture and framed pictures on the wall show up in fine detail. It’s not the green glow that I’m used to in darkened areas but more in shadings of gray with a hint of color attached to them. There is no difference between what I can see “normally” and what shows up when I slide the goggles down except for the overall shading.
I watch as Henderson and Denton head off to the back of the house under Gonzalez’ direction. Gonzalez and McCafferty rise and edge to the hall entrance. I want to open up and reach out to ascertain where the night runner is and what it is thinking but I don’t dare. If I do, it will know exactly where I am or at least I assume it will. With Gonzalez and McCafferty in the enclosed hallway, it could be on them in moments flat. I’m pretty sure I pinpointed it to inside the house with the momentary glimpse but now I’m as blind as the rest of us. What use is having this? I think watching the two women enter the hallway and disappear from sight. I’d rather I didn’t because I feel like any choice I make in this situation might be the wrong one.
A shriek shatters the silence which rebounds around the small house to the point that it feels like it’s actually inside of me. The hallway is lit with flashes of light and I hear a suppressed burst of gunfire followed by a loud thump. I’m on my feet in an instant rushing toward the hall.
“Henderson, Denton, maintain position,” I say looking down the corridor.
I see Gonzalez kneeling by a body on the floor with her hand on its shoulder. I barely make out her whisper, “Oh, dear, papa.” McCafferty has her hand on Gonzalez’ shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” I hear her say.
I hear the sound of approaching vehicles outside just before Horace comes on the radio, “Sir, we have company and lots of it coming this way.”
“Make sure everyone is in covering positions. Keep the guns manned. I’ll be right out. Henderson, Denton, you’re with me outside,” I radio seeing that the situation inside has stabilized to a certain degree.
“On the way, sir,” Henderson replies. I hear their boots on the kitchen floor as they make their way back to the living room.
“Will do, sir,” Horace answers.
I reach over and tell McCafferty, “Stay with her. Make sure she’s okay.” McCafferty turns and nods.
I head out to the porch with Henderson and Denton. Standing on the edge, I look west and see two convertible cars parked door to door blocking the street entirely and surrounded by a multitude of people. Three men are standing in front of the cars holding weapons in one hand with the barrels resting on their shoulders; their other hands shielding their eyes. A glint flashes from the windshields of the cars from the sunlight. At least we have the advantage of the sun, I think. It’s hard to tell from this distance but the men all appear to be darker skinned. I’m not sure if it’s because they are deeply tanned or Hispanic. The others in the large group have taken cover and are aiming weapons in our general vicinity.
I walk to the rear of the angled Humvee where Horace has taken cover. The heat of the day has increased to a marked degree despite our only having been inside a short time. It takes my eyes time to adjust from the dark interior to the brightness outside. An intersection sits between our two groups and I can see a little ways down the cross streets that have intersecting alleyways. Several people take positions at the corners of houses near the alleys in flanking positions.
“Henderson, Denton, grab the 110’s and take cover. I want the flankers taken out on my call,” I say.
“Hooah, sir,” they respond. The hatch of the Humvee swings open and they retrieve their snipers before heading to opposite sides of the street to take positions.
I tap Horace on the shoulder, “If they have flankers, they’ll have others circling around behind us. Make sure the other Humvee gun covers our rear.” Horace quickly trots over to the other angled Humvee, talks a moment with the soldier on top, and returns. Sure enough, I hear the sound of vehicles moving along side streets to our right heading past us.
“McCafferty, Jack here,” I say.
“Go ahead, sir,” I hear her reply.
“I hate to do this but we have a situation here and I need you two to cover the back. Stay inside but m
ake sure no one gets the drop on us from the side,” I say.
“Roger that, sir.”
Two cars pull onto the road and park behind us a block and a half away obstructing the road in that direction. A small number of people get out and take cover around the vehicles. Although concerned because our covering positions are more exposed to this new threat, I’m not overly worried. They have chosen positions close to the vehicles and they’ve obviously never seen what an M-240 can do – I make a mental note to bring a .50 cal Humvee as well next time. If this does come down to an exchange, they’ll be running for their lives in short order. It’s the ones I don’t see that concern me. They obviously know how to flank. They also have the advantage of numbers and better knowledge of the area. I think about pulling Gonzalez out with me so I can use her knowledge but she just lost her father, at least I’m assuming from what I saw that it was her father on the ground.
The Humvees parked at angles across the street create a small alcove of protection in front of Gonzalez’ house. I walk into our circle of cover to the Humvee, open the door, and turn the radio on.
“Greg, this is Jack, over,” I say pressing the mic. Yeah, I would use call signs but seriously, who else is on this freq named Greg and Jack.
A moment passes. “Jack, this is Greg, go ahead,” he responds.
“We have a bit of a situation here. We’re surrounded by a large group of about thirty. Their intentions are unknown at this time. Find a vehicle and being your team in,” I say giving directions.
“Do you want everyone? Robert? Bri?” Greg asks.
I think about it for a moment. Bringing Echo Team in would leave Robert and Bri alone with three armed people we just met. As uncomfortable as I am with bringing them in, I’m even more uncomfortable leaving them with folks I’ve known for less than a day.
“Yeah, bring everyone,” I answer. “Come up from the west side. That way we’ll have the larger group encircled.”
“We’ll be on the way shortly, Jack. Call you when we’re close on the tac freq,” Greg says.
“Copy that. I wouldn’t be overly upset if you hurried,” I say.
“We’ll do that. Greg, out,” he says ending the call with a burst of static.
I walk back to Horace who is peering around the corner of the Humvee. Looking down the street, I see nothing much has changed. The three men are obviously having a discussion. We’ve had this standoff for a little bit and I am surprised words haven’t been exchanged as yet. At least it hasn’t been an exchange of steel greetings.
“Greg will be on his way with Echo Team shortly. We’ll need to stall this until he gets here,” I say.
I wait a several moments sizing up the situation more. “So, let’s see what we have here,” I finally say stepping from the cover of the vehicle.
With my M-4 cradled in my arms, I walk a few feet from the Humvee and stand in the middle of the road. I feel the heat rising from the sand-covered pavement. The clouds continue to billow above covering more of the sky. Sand has been piled up along the curbs on one side of the street. One of the men brings his gun off his shoulder, cradles it, and steps out in front of his group. His white, sleeveless T-shirt contrasts with his dark brown skin.
“You’re not welcome here, Gringo,” the man calls out. That pretty much settles the heritage question.
“We’re just looking for a family member. We look and then we’ll be out of here,” I respond.
“Ain’t nothin’ but one of those things in there,” he shouts.
“Not anymore,” I reply.
“Then you can leave but we’ll be taking your vehicles,” he yells back.
“Yeah, ya know, I don’t think that’s going to happen,” I respond.
I hear him and the other two men laugh. “Then you won’t be leaving but we’ll still be taking the vehicles and everything else,” he replies still laughing.
I look to the sky and then back at him. “I suppose it’s as good a day to die as any other. I hope you feel the same way,” I say bringing an instant end to his laughter. “I strongly suggest you pull back.”
“You don’t scare me,” he growls loudly. “This is my turf.”
“It wasn’t my intention to scare you, just merely making a suggestion,” I say replying and hoping the fuck Greg is close. This has the potential of getting ugly really quick. Of course I’m not helping the situation but any sign of weakness might cause them to strike. By acting the tough guy like he is and doing it calmly is making him think twice about attacking us. It’s like we know something he doesn’t. I’m sure the M-240, multiple M-4’s and two sniper rifles pointed his direction helps.
“McCafferty, anything your way?” I ask.
“Nothing here, sir,” she answers.
“It’s about to escalate out here and we need the both of you out front,” I say.
“On our way,” she says.
“Jack, Greg here. We’re closing in on your position,” I hear over the radio.
I feel my tension ease a touch with his call which really couldn’t have come at a better time.
“Greg, park a distance away so you’re not heard and make your way on foot from the west. You’ll see the group once you get on the road. Advance and set up covering positions to their rear. Leave the civilians with the vehicles,” I say.
“What about Robert and Bri?” Greg asks. Again, that leaving them with strangers thing but this is different. There is a real chance of bullets filling the air around us.
“Leave them with the vehicles as well,” I answer.
“Copy that, Jack.” I glimpse Echo Team in the distance past the group. They advance up the opposite sides of the street and deploy. I feel a little better about our chances to walk away from this. Still, I’d rather not get into an exchange. There are just too many variables when steel starts filling the air; ricochets, the lucky shot, the rounds marked “To Whom It May Concern.” With my being out in the open and exposed, I’m sure there are quite a few weapons trained on me. Even though it’s warm and humid out, I’m still not all that interested in becoming ventilated.
“Rosa?” I hear a young female voice call from the group behind the men in front. “Roooooosa!”
All eyes turn toward the voice and the crowd steps to the side as a girl in her mid-teens steps out in front.
“Isabella?” I hear Gonzalez call out questioning.
Gonzalez streaks by me heading down the street holding her M-4 by her side. The young girl takes off running in our direction. This new situation has captured the attention of everyone on both sides. Time stand still as the two meet at the intersection. Gonzalez goes to her knees and the two meet in an embrace. I see Gonzalez look up at the opposing group.
“Miguel? Is that you?” Gonzalez calls out.
“Rosa?” The man calls out questioning.
“Shit, Miguel, what the fuck are you doing? Put your damned gun away,” Gonzalez says.
The man turns to the group and calls out something in what I assume to be Spanish. Guns are lowered. “Stand down but keep alert,” I say into the radio.
I walk to where Gonzalez has risen with her arm around the young girl. “Rosa, huh?” I ask.
“Yes, sir, and this is Isabella, my sister,” Gonzalez answers with a single tear marking her face.
Isabella looks to be about Bri’s age. The other man reaches our position still eyeing me with suspicion which I gladly return. After all, we came very close to having a firefight and the adrenaline has not entirely dissipated.
“Sir, this is Miguel, one of my brother’s friends,” Gonzalez says. My immediate thought is that Miguel is a gang member with Gonzalez having shared a very brief history of her family. She must have observed that written on my face. “Miguel is not part of the gangs that used to roam here. He actually tried to keep the streets safe. At least he used to,” she adds looking poignantly at Miguel.
We both tentatively reach our hands out to shake. “Jack,” I say as our hands maintain a firm grip. Yeah, the
re’s still a little bit of a pissing contest going on. “What do you say we at least stand our people down before something stupid happens?”
“I still don’t trust you but because Rosa is here with you, I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt,” Miguel says.
“Well, I’m not about to hand you the other half of a BFF necklace either,” I respond.
Miguel chuckles and turns to shout something to his group. I call and tell the others to truly stand down and for Greg to bring the vehicles up. Miguel sees Echo Team emerge into the streets behind his group and turns to look at me sharply. I merely shrug.
“Where’s Mama?” I hear Gonzalez ask Isabella.
“She’s back where we’re staying,” Isabella answers. I see Gonzalez sweep Isabella up in another hug.
Red Team gathers around Gonzalez and her sister offering condolences. I walk over to McCafferty and lead her away from the group.
“Take Red Team and see to Gonzalez’ father in whatever manner she wants,” I say.
“Will do, sir,” McCafferty replies.
“Let the rest of us know when you’re ready so we can all give him a decent send off,” I say looking up at the clouds billowing higher. Their bottoms have become dark and are about to vanquish the sun. We don’t have much longer before they turn ugly.
“And make it as quick as you can. I want to be back at the base before the storms hit,” I continue pointing at the storms gathering overhead. McCafferty nods and heads back to the team. Gonzalez tells Isabella to remain and they head into the house. I turn back to Miguel.
“Look, why don’t we throw all of this macho bullshit aside and chat some?” I say.
“I was just trying to protect my people, man. It hasn’t been easy for us here. There have been gangs, marauders, and those things around. Supplies are running low as well,” he replies.
“As was I. I totally get it. How many in your group?”
A New World: Awakening Page 9