A New World: Awakening

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A New World: Awakening Page 13

by O'Brien, John


  Back in front, McCafferty retrieves a key from under a rock lying where the steps and porch meet. The fact that the doors are locked is a good sign with regards to night runners. I don’t want to rely on whether I can sense them or not as fact. I figure if I can shut it away, then so can they. At least that’s what I have to assume. Ugh! I so dislike that word as I don’t like to assume anything but we have to in everyday life to some extent.

  With Henderson and Denton against the wall next to the front door and me holding the screen open with my shoulder and aiming inside, McCafferty kneels and inserts the key into the lock. Robert stands behind me ready to enter on my heels. Bri will stay at the door. The house isn’t overly large and too many inside will actually hinder movement and coverage rather than help. We’ve done this so many times together that we each know our place and initial movements so very little briefing is needed. “Remember, McCafferty’s parents may be inside so no itchy trigger fingers. Verify your target quickly though,” is the only thing I need to say.

  A click from the door lets me know McCafferty has unlocked it. I scan the area quickly and focus back on her giving a nod. She turns the handle and swings the door inward. Dropping my NVG’s, I am by her in a flash with Robert on my heels. I rush in about ten feet and drop to my knees scanning the large, open room. Robert drops in beside me. A rustle and the sound of boots hitting the wooden entryway floor lets me know Gonzalez, Henderson, and Denton have entered and are behind me and to the right. The coolness of the room is a refreshing reprieve from the heat outside although I don’t notice it much with the adrenaline flow that entering any darkened and strange building brings.

  The rustle of clothing stops and the quiet we’ve felt in other houses settles in. Our lasers dance about the room as we search for movement or anything to indicate we are occupying the same space with something or someone else. The room holds silent with no movement. An island sits in the middle of the kitchen and dishes are stacked beside the sink. The dining room table is off to the side of the kitchen. The room has a sense of being lived in and I half expect the TV to be on with viewers sitting on the couch and easy chairs. It doesn’t quite have the loneliness the other houses had but that feeling is still strong.

  McCafferty enters and kneels down beside Gonzalez. I get McCafferty’s attention and have her gather close.

  “Do you want you and Gonzalez to check out the hall and bedrooms or have Henderson and Denton go instead?” I ask.

  I know what happened to Gonzalez in her parent’s house and want to give her the choice in case the same thing has happened here. I don’t think any night runners are inside with the doors being locked but that doesn’t mean they aren’t. It has to be hard not knowing but it would be harder being directly confronted with it. I can’t imagine how devastating that would be to see your parents as night runners and then be the one to have to put them down. For some reason, and maybe it’s only me, it would be easier if someone else did it. On the other hand, I’m also thinking I would rather be the one. I want to give McCafferty the option that feels most comfortable to her.

  “I’m good, sir. We’ll go,” she whispers looking around the familiar room.

  Henderson and Denton cover the large room as McCafferty and Gonzalez edge toward the hall and check out its length. I stand close behind ready to give additional cover should they need it. Looking down the hall, I see all of the doors are closed which is either another good sign or a bad one. If there are night runners inside, then they’ve learned to operate doors and locks and that wouldn’t be a comforting thing to say the least. I would head over to open the drapes and let the light in but I don’t want the light differential to interfere with our NVG’s. I have mine on because of what Gonzalez said and trying to be less conspicuous.

  I watch as the two women enter the hall. Their thin points of light swing from door to door as they edge down the narrow corridor. I keep expecting to hear the familiar shriek or pounding against one of the closed doors but the house remains quiet with the exception of my heart pounding in my chest. I’m sure I’m taking years off my life by the constant adrenaline we seem to use up on an almost daily basis. I used to love that feeling but now it just makes me feel old and tired. I so wish for the peaceful retirement I had going. I guess this is supposed to be a constant in my life for some reason. I can’t imagine choosing this. I must have misread the line I was standing in. I had thought I left this life behind and was settling into a peaceful existence but the world spoke up and said differently. I wonder if I’ll ever reach that point again. I wish I was younger though. It sure would make this a lot easier, I think watching McCafferty and Gonzalez get ready to enter one of the rooms on the right.

  McCafferty swings the door open and Gonzalez swings her M-4 side to side clearing the room. I can’t see what kind of room it is but I’m assuming it’s a small one as Gonzalez reaches down a moment later to touch McCafferty’s shoulder. McCafferty closes the door. They cover each room in the same manner with the same result, there’s no one here.

  “It’s all clear, sir,” Gonzalez reports as they close the last door.

  “Copy that,” I respond. We gather in the open area to ponder our next move. I feel bad for McCafferty that she still doesn’t have an answer but there is the positive that we didn’t find them dead or worse.

  “Jack, Greg here,” I hear on the radio.

  “Yeah, Greg, go ahead,” I answer.

  “We have someone standing in the driveway across the street,” he says.

  “Just one? Armed?” I ask.

  “It’s just one person and they are armed but just holding their rifle loosely and looking in our direction,” Greg answers.

  “Okay. We’re on our way out,” I say. “Keep an eye out for others.”

  I step into the bright light and heat. The house was cold in comparison and the change in temperature makes me feel like I’m about to melt. It’s that kind of heat that immediately makes me feel tired and lethargic. The sweat forms instantly, saturating my fatigues under my arms and where my vest is covering. I want to remove the vest just to feel the cooling sensation of the sweat evaporating but that’s not the best of ideas in an unknown area. I remember the times in the desert or jungle when we established our place to hold up and the refreshing sensation of taking my vest off. It’s been a busy couple of days and a nap is sounding like the best thing in the world right now. The release of adrenaline adds to this feeling.

  I walk with McCafferty over to where Greg’s and Horace’s vehicles are parked back to back on the dirt road by the entrance. The rest of Red Team takes up positions by the Humvee parked close to the house. Looking into the lot across the road to where Greg is pointing, I see a man standing next to a black pickup truck in the driveway. He is holding a rifle at his side looking in our direction shading his eyes from the sun. Horace is glassing the area with a set of binoculars.

  “Anything?” I ask Horace.

  “Nothing I can see, sir,” she answers.

  “Do you know who that is?” I ask McCafferty.

  “Well, that could be old man Edmonds. At least that’s his place. I never really talked with him much,” she replies.

  “Well, let’s see what he has to say. McCafferty, you’re with me. The rest of you stay alert and cover us,” I say.

  The M-240 on Horace’s Humvee is pointed in the man’s direction but not directly at him. Walking with McCafferty at my side, we cross the road and enter the opposite driveway. The man brings his hand down and grips his rifle but doesn’t bring it up in a threatening manner, just to a more ready position to use if he needs to. Closer, I see he is an older man, perhaps in his late fifties or early sixties. His deeply tanned and wrinkled face makes it hard to tell just how old he is. I am sure the sight of armed vehicles and people in the area aren’t giving him comfortable feelings but I give him credit for his bravery in coming outside to check us out.

  “We’re not looking to cause any trouble,” I say keeping my M-4 ready but lowe
red. It’s not like I don’t have tremendous firepower behind me if needed and I can literally feel the M-240 trained in our direction. This trip has brought a few surprises and I’m not really in the mood for more.

  “That remains to be seen,” he answers. He thrusts his head forward as if trying to see better as if the extra few inches will bring everything into more clarity. “Is that you young Allie?”

  “Yes, sir,” McCafferty answers.

  “Well come forward, girl, let me get a look at ya,” the man says. “And tell that young ‘un on the big gun to quit pointing it at me.”

  I have everyone relax but keep alert. Mr. Edmonds sets his rifle against the black pickup truck, reaches behind him and brings out a green John Deere hat covered with dirt and grease stains. He slaps it against his jeans as if that will clean it, although it does release a small cloud of dust, and places it on his head. We walk the remaining distance down the driveway.

  “Well, you certainly have grown, girl. Look at you. And I’m glad to even be saying that,” Mr. Edmonds says. “And you would be?”

  “Jack Walker,” I say slinging my M-4 and sticking my hand out.

  “Jim Edmonds,” he says returning my shake.

  “Mr. Edmonds, do you know what happened to my parents,” McCafferty asks.

  “Well, young Allie, I don’t rightly know,” Jim says looking at the ground and then back at her. “I saw them last a few days ago. Let’s see, that would have been five days ago by my count. They mentioned they were heading out to look for supplies and I haven’t seen them since.”

  Both hope and disappointment crosses McCafferty’s face. The news that they made it through this far is good news but the fact that they went out for supplies and haven’t returned in days doesn’t bode well. We have all been out for supplies and know what that means. I hope for her sake they didn’t come across a night runner lair in their search.

  “Are there any night runners in the area?” I ask.

  “Any what?” Jim asks in confusion, squinting his eyes and scratching his head. “Oh, you mean those night hunter things. Yeah, I hear them prowling around at night.”

  I look at the small house that has no evidence of being fortified. The house actually looks like the big bad wolf could huff and puff his way in.

  “So how is it you’ve managed to keep them at bay?” I ask curious as to how he’s kept them out.

  “Well, young man, I’ve been staying in the storm shelter. Figured if it can protect against a tornado then it should be able to hold up against them night folk,” Jim answers.

  “Shared it with your parents when the storms would come blowing in and recently,” he continues directing this at McCafferty.

  Of course! We’re in tornado country. I should have known, I think.

  “Any idea where they might have gone to search or what might have happened to them?” I ask.

  We still have a few hours to search before we have to head back. We could hole up in the Humvees for the night and search for them tomorrow as well but that isn’t the most comfortable of solutions. The vehicles are tough but not impenetrable. Enough night runners could turn them over and that wouldn’t be in our best interest.

  “Not exactly sure where they might have gone. They could have run afoul of the group holed up in the prison though. I’ve seen that group around from time to time and watched them snag some poor souls off the streets once when I was out for supplies myself. I’m not sure why they took them and didn’t hang around long enough to find out.”

  I feel the tension radiating from McCafferty. I can understand her feelings though. If there’s a chance to get her parents, she wants to take it and I don’t blame her. But she also knows we are limited on personnel and resources. And time.

  “Any idea how many are holed up there?”

  “No. No idea at all. I’m not stupid enough to venture down that way. Well, again. I was out that way once for supplies. Got myself chased for my trouble. They came directly out of that prison and damn near caught me. Eventually lost ‘em on the back roads. Haven’t ventured close since,” Jim answers. “If I were to guess by the number chasing me, I would say twenty or thirty.” I have an immediate liking for Mr. Jim Edmonds. He’s a survivor and seems pretty crafty.

  “I don’t suppose you know the layout of the place?” I ask.

  “Well, there I might be able to help ya some. I worked there as a guard for some time when times were tough,” Jim replies.

  We spend the next half hour putting together a diagram based on Jim’s recollection of the facility. It’s a large place and I’m not really sure how we can take it with only three teams. It’s a lot like Madigan in that we’d need a battalion, well, at least a company to be effective. And that’s if we can even get in. Prisons are designed to keep people both in and out.

  “Jim, you’re more than welcome to come along with us. I mean back to the Northwest if you’d like. We have supplies and shelter,” I say after folding the map.

  “I don’t rightly know about that. I’d feel bad if young Allie’s parents came back and I wasn’t here. I ‘spose I could leave a note though but a lot of good that would do. But I guess if they haven’t been here in five days, odds are…” Jim pauses giving McCafferty an apologetic look. “Well, I ‘spose that would be okay. Not much here for me anyway since Sarah passed on. Let me grab some things and I’ll be right with ya.”

  We head back to the road and gather the others up. I explain the situation. I feel completely indecisive about what to do. On one hand, if McCafferty’s parents are there, then we should do the right thing and get them out, or at least try. I mean, that goes if anyone is being held against their will but more so because it’s the family of one of our own. But we don’t know and should we risk the others of our teams not knowing if they are there. Should we risk our team members even if we knew they were there? Our months have been about staying alive but there is also the right thing to do. I mean, that is if there is a way in and we don’t create a worse risk or stupidly throw our lives away. The heat isn’t improving my ability to think this one through.

  “Alright. I have to be honest and say I’m not sure on this one,” I say giving McCafferty the same apologetic look that Jim gave her.

  “We took down the high school and there were about the same amount of bad guys there,” Horace mentions.

  “True. But that was a high school and we’re talking about a prison here. The high school is infinitely easier to infiltrate. Prisons are meant to be hard to not only get out of but into,” I reply as Jim walks out with a filled duffle bag and his rifle. “But we could take a look and see what we’re facing before making any decisions.”

  “It couldn’t hurt,” Greg says.

  “Okay. Let’s go take a look and see what we’re dealing with then. Just a look for now as we have to be back before dark. We’ll make our plans based on what we see,” I say.

  “Jim, can you get us close discreetly?” I ask.

  “I know a few back ways. I think I can get you close but it’s surrounded by fields so you may not be able to get as close as you’d like,” he answers.

  “Okay, let’s mount up then.” The teams break up and climb in their vehicles. Jim climbs in with Greg as our Humvee is already a little crowded. Greg will lead with us following. We’ll have to keep it slow so we don’t kick up a lot of dust and give ourselves away. The day is already into the afternoon and it won’t be too much longer before we have to begin our journey back. There is still the town we have to circumvent and I want to allow time for any delays. McCafferty and I walk back to our Humvee.

  “Thank you, sir,” McCafferty says as we stroll back stirring the dust with our boots.

  “We’ll get them if they’re there and we can. No promises though. I know this is hard but can’t risk losing our teams,” I say.

  “I understand and wouldn’t have it any other way, sir,” McCafferty responds.

  “Then let’s go see what we’re dealing with shall we,” I say.<
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  I see some tension leave her with the fact that we are going to try to do something but I know she must be feeling anxious not knowing. I mean, they may not even be there.

  “I’m with you, sir,” McCafferty replies.

  With Jim guiding, our little convoy proceeds slowly on back country roads. I’m at an interval behind Greg’s Humvee watching the little dust he is kicking up as we inch along. The surrounding fields are completely covered with dirt and the flat land makes us stand out like we’re waving banners and throwing confetti. I’m not sure just how close we’re going to be able to get. And even if we do get close, I don’t think we’ll be able to see much over the walls I am assuming are there. But anything we can do to help a teammate is worth doing. As long as we don’t all get killed over it. That result is definitely over in the “don’t want to do” column. My kids are with me so that is to be avoided at all costs. There is a hierarchy in my thinking; my kids, Lynn, the teams, everyone else. I don’t figure much into that equation but I’m not in an all-fired rush to leave this fucked up world either.

  We begin heading down small service roads between the fields themselves and eventually find ourselves in a small gully. Shrubs dot the hillsides on both sides and the road ends at a shallow creek at the bottom of the gully. Small, stunted mesquite trees line the water’s edge. Greg pulls to a stop. We shut down and exit.

  The gully is deep enough to hide the vehicles without betraying a silhouette. A rancid smell permeates the area. And by rancid, I mean enough to want to stop breathing entirely. Everyone wrinkles their nose and waves their hand under them upon exiting. It’s definitely something that died and, by the smell of it, it’s many of those somethings. There’s nothing else that smells like that and I’m all too familiar with that odor. I wonder if someone has been dumping bodies in the gully.

 

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