Taken

Into the Lion’s Den

Lying on the dry ground under the trees, shielded by bushes, the sound of vehicles in the distance intrudes upon my thoughts as I run through various scenarios. I picture in my mind the buses arriving, proceeding through the gate, and shoveling everyone out for the evening routine. I’m assuming it is a routine as we’ve only monitored them for a very short time, but the process did seem to flow smoothly. The smoother something like that happens, the more likely they’ve done it that way for a while. I don’t want to make any assumptions about anything but I like to keep all of the players in my mind as to their possible locations at all times. Noting routines, where people go or should be at a particular time, helps keep situational awareness. That, however, doesn’t make everything written in stone.

My chief apprehension centers on the night runners behaving themselves. Yeah, when have they ever done that? I don’t want to be caught outside with a horde of night runners closing in. I’d rather have a prostate exam although it really amounts to the same thing.

The noise of air brakes squealing, people gathering, and doors opening in the distance goes on for some time and settles down as the sun sinks behind the hills. It’s as if the day waits in hushed anticipation of the night to come.

The sky above darkens to a deep blue and the first stars shine. Generators start up in the compound and the perimeter lights flash on; flickering at first and then coming on with their full intensity. Armed guards walk across the fields in the gathering gloom, mount ladders leading into the towers, and, just as last night, pull the ladders up with them. I see the gap I noticed from the overlooking hills just off to my left almost in front of the third tower. I pull back into the trees and move over adjacent to the gap.

Aside from being out in the gathering darkness, I am also not so keen on having to traverse open ground in front of a guard tower. Guards typically tend to focus their lights on the area immediately in front of them. It’s a psychological thing; that’s where they think the greatest danger lies. Hopefully they sweep their spotlight over a wider area. I take the remaining grass talks I gathered and quietly tape them along my arms and legs so they are pointing to my rear. Lying down, I want to look as much like the grass field as I can. Luckily, they haven’t cut or burned the tall grass. This will give me a little advantage should a spotlight come across me.

The twilight deepens into the darkness of night. A few faint shrieks sound in the distance as the night comes on fully. They seem as if they are coming from the south, in the direction of the main town. Nothing too close. The stars are out, twinkling brightly across the black sky. I wait a moment for the guards to get settled into a routine. Spotlights from the guard towers move erratically through the night air. The one in front of me transitions slowly from left to right and back again without any noticeable pattern. I lower my NVG’s. It’s time to move.

“This is Jack, I’m heading in,” I radio whoever has the radio watch.

“Copy that,” I hear Greg respond. I should have known he’d be up if a member was out. I’m guessing he’ll be up all night.

The crickets and other night animals pick up their evening sounds. They are comforting as I know nothing in the predator category lies near. It’s a two-edged sword however because if I happen to get close to them, then they’ll go silent and notify anyone that something lurks nearby. I watch the spotlight trying to gauge a pattern but I don’t pick one up. With a deep sigh, I sink to my stomach and edge out of the trees.

I slowly part the grass ahead of me and wiggle forward, coming to a rest after my movement. I can’t see the guards in the tower past the light so I have to assume their eyes are following the path of the light. Another parting of the grass and movement brings me a foot and a half closer to the fence. That will be the most interesting part, getting through the fence directly ahead of the tower. Timing will be critical.

The only pattern of light I notice is that its beam stays mostly outside of the fence line. Once inside, I should have no worries about it. Then it will be primarily keeping quiet as I make my way past the tower. The beam swings in my direction. Here’s the real test. It will either pass over me or a shot will ring out that I will never hear. I try to wiggle even closer to the ground; trying to press my rear end through the hard surface. I fold the grass stalks over me without bending them too much. The light draws ever closer. I bury my head both to remain invisible and to not cause a white out of the NVG’s. I also don’t want the light to reflect back off the glass front.

I notice my headache coming on again. Great, like I need that, I think with head pressed into the dirt. I watch to the side for the light to come and pass. As the light draws closer, the dirt and grass begin to lighten. My body tenses anticipating the light stopping and a searing pain to enter my body. It grows brighter and the dirt below my eyes suddenly becomes like day. I’m just the grass, I think. I’m afraid the black of my fatigues might be too black. I always preferred a charcoal gray at night as black is sometimes bright and easy to see in the light. The brightness seems to linger forever. Pass on, I think putting all of my focus into not moving. I only exhale in short breaths not wanting any steam to escape. It’s not cold enough for that but old habits die hard.

The light fades, passing off to the other side. I raise my head catching sight of the light transiting to the right. I part the grass ahead and maneuver ahead. I keep a look out for any freshly turned earth or mounds of dirt. I wouldn’t think they would have mined the outside. They would have had to raid an armory for that and their weapons don’t indicate they had but one can never be too careful. Especially when it comes to explosives and the possibility of having one’s limbs being separated from the rest of the body. The light stops and swings back, this time focusing further in the trees. I freeze as it crosses above me, once more pressing down into the ground. This cat and mouse game continues for a period of time until I find myself next to the fence.

Several shrieks pierce the night. Some close and others answer from far away. I don’t know if it’s me they’re howling about or if it’s just my anxiety of being out in the night with them. Either way, I’m ready to be on the other side of the fence. The grass truly is greener on the other side. The light pans out to the left focusing on the tree line. I take out the can of chemical spray and spray upward close to a fence post. Spray is a misnomer as it actually comes out in a stream. Reaching a height tall enough to sidle through, I start across the chain links; they separate immediately. The spotlight begins in my direction again and I bury myself in the grass that abuts the fence. Once it passes, I quietly push the “door” through the fence inwards lifting it slightly to minimize any noise. The light comes back and stops on the trees to my immediate rear. I crouch through and close the “door.”

I’m hoping they haven’t spotted a trail I left but I don’t dare move to see what they are focusing on. I hear voices drift down from the tower twenty yards ahead of me. It’s too faint to hear any definitive words. I ready myself for any alarm. If it comes down to it, I’ll do what I can and slip back through the fence and lose myself in the woods. The game will be over though as they’ll know we’re here. Plan B will then be in effect. Plan B is anyone’s guess at this point.

The voices stop and the light moves on. I relax a touch and sigh. I put the fence back as close to natural as I can and wrap small pieces of wire to the corner ends. This will enable me to undo them quickly while hopefully preserving the naturalness of the fence. Now the tricky part; skating by the tower without being seen or heard. The grass fields around are illuminated in green but I know that it is dark outside of my NVG’s. There’s a small copse of trees between the gym and the tennis courts sitting close to the fence. That’s my next stop.

Slowly move and pause, move and pause. I angle away from the tower towards the relative safety of the trees. It’s not that the trees provide great cover as they are spread out a bit but I hate open areas. At least I can get behind a tree if needed. Out in the open, there’s nowhere to go if they decide to check on the interior for any reason. Slowly, the trees get closer, or, should I say I get closer to them. It’s not as if they are walking towards me. That would be nice however but then I would hope they were friendly. The last thing I need now is a group of walking trees that are hostile.

After what seems like hours, I reach the first of the trees and sit on my heels behind a towering fir, putting it between me and the roving spotlights. From here, I am able to see further into the campus. The tennis courts to my left and the outer wall of the swimming pool, attached to the gym to my right, mark the boundaries of the school proper. The first of the single story classroom buildings is across a paved road ahead. I see the main office building at an angle across from the gym past the same road. A faint light glows through the windows of the office building. That’s a good thing as, with a light on, they won’t be able to see outside very well. I ponder my next move; to head into the classroom buildings or head into the gym.

“This is Jack, I’m in,” I whisper pressing the push-to-talk button.

“Wow! Really? I had the area glassed the entire time and didn’t see you,” Greg calls back after a pause.

“I used magic,” I whisper back.

“Everything looks normal from here,” he says.

“Okay. I think I’ll check out the gym first,” I say.

“Roger.”

My head is pounding as I leave my little sanctuary and sidle over to the pool wall. It’s lost in the shadows of the night but shows up clearly in my vision. A large green dumpster lies halfway along the wall and I crouch where the corner meets the wall. Looking around, I see the spotlights panning the perimeter a distance away. Nothing else moves. I take that back. A small shape flitters in the air across my vision. I see another shape move swiftly through the night, banking and disappearing as quickly as it appeared. Bats are out, I think. Here I sit in midst of an armed compound, keyed up on adrenaline, and there they are flying about as if this night is not any different than the others. Everything is a matter of perspective I guess, I think refocusing.

I hear a shuffling of feet. I’m surprised I can hear them over the pounding in my head and I notice the scratch on my neck burns a little more than usual. I shrink further against the corner making sure not to put too much pressure against the dumpster. The last thing I want is to press too hard and cause it to move. Not like I’m the man of steel but the thought forms anyway. I hear the shuffling draw closer but don’t see anything appear at the corner. Odd, I think. I should see something as the sound seems to be coming from just around the corner. I fold quickly to the opposite side of the dumpster and become just another dark space in the corner.

A minute passes. I take out my signal mirror, move forward, and hold it toward the bottom of the large green dumpster. A light forms at the corner of the building, swaying back and forth slightly; common to a flashlight being held by someone walking. Great. We sure missed any roving patrols. I’m not sure this area was visible from our position but we should have spotted lights moving about. Perhaps it’s not a regular patrol. Maybe the tower did report something odd when the light stopped behind me and someone is checking it out.

The light pans across the trees I was in a few moments ago and then sweeps in my direction. I pull the mirror back in order not to cast a reflection and move back to the corner. Stowing the mirror, I grip my M-4; keeping it closer in order not to create a larger profile but ready to use. The light casts its beam on the dumpster; illuminating the ground directly in front of me, creating a shadow of the dumpster that envelops me. I slowly reach down and quietly loosen the knife wrapped around my ankle. This is the part of my winging it, the aspect Lynn so fondly referred to, that I’m not a big fan of; the waiting for a situation to develop.

The light begins to swing. Whoever is holding it is on the move again. It’s not aimed directly at the dumpster anymore but the round spot is on the ground directly in front of me. It does move forward with each slight sway of the light. I’m not overly worried about whoever is holding the light, unless there is more than one, but more of what will happen afterward if I have to take them out. Will they make a lot of noise, which I can minimize to an extent if I don’t have to fire, or will the flashlight beam bounce and catch the attention of the tower guards? Crazier things have happened. This is one time I wish I had three arms and hands. But I’m stuck with the two I came with. One will be guiding the knife and the other to prevent a scream the “guiding” will most likely produce. I would use my suppressed sidearm but I want to completely minimize sound and the flash, although limited, may catch someone’s attention.

The light continues to advance along with the faint swish of feet moving through the grass. A foot steps into my view by the outside corner of my little hideaway. This is quickly followed by another foot swinging in step and the guard comes fully into view. I keep my head lowered yet keep the guard in view through the top of my goggles. Any facial registration of surprise or head movement in my direction on his part will cause an eruption of movement on mine.

He is carrying a pistol in one hand but in a relaxed manner. He also has a bolt-action rifle slung over his shoulder. This is indicative that he isn’t expecting anything but this doesn’t make me relax any. My heart is pounding with the increase in adrenaline which isn’t doing my head any good. I don’t notice as most of my focus is directed to the ten feet in front of me. He stops.

Sliding his handgun into the holster, he reaches into an upper pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. Cradling the flashlight in the crook of his arm, he pulls one out and jams it between his lips. A flare of light from a lighter follows. I’m thankful for the light he has chosen to shine in his own eyes killing any night vision he may have acquired. The cigarette flares in the view from my goggles, he gathers his semi-auto pistol, and moves on leaving a trail of cigarette smoke scent behind.

Idiot, I think. You really have no grasp or concept of night runners. If a horde truly gathers and there is no telling if or when that could happen, as they are wily, this place will be overrun in moments. The thought penetrates that I should just take care of him here and now as that kind of stupidity or carelessness shouldn’t be allowed to propagate any further. I am relieved that he moves on though. He rounds the corner and disappears from sight. I still hear the swishing of his feet moving through the grass for a short time and then all is still again. I slide my knife back firmly into the sheath.

I wonder if he is doing circuits of the gym, the entire campus, or if it is a one-shot deal. I radio Greg and advise him of the guard. Edging to the corner where the guard went, I am just in time to see him swing one of the gym entrance doors open and disappear inside. The soft tink of the door closing reaches my ears moments later. I notice a light over the top of the door casting a large spot of light around the entrance. Well, that way is out, I think slinking back to the dumpster.

Gathering my thoughts, I crouch to the opposite corner of the gym wall and peek around the corner. There is another light by the opposite entrance to the gym but the door to the pool, lying closer to my position, is concealed in shadows. That’s my way in.

I quickly move against the wall to the door and listen. The gray metal door doesn’t disclose anything that may lie inside. I crack the door thankful it’s unlocked. There’s no sound and I see the soft shimmering of water reflecting off the concrete brick walls. I open the door and slip inside coming to a crouch just inside. The lights of the large pool are on. Ribbons and streams of light from the pool bounce off the ceiling and walls reminiscent of an aurora borealis light show.

A small office jutting out onto the concrete flooring is dark as are the entrances to the locker rooms and showers on the far end to the left. Okay, let’s do this, I think observing no movement within. The lights from the pool are my only company. I walk quickly in a crouch across the hard floor, making sure to keep my footfalls silent, and come to rest against the wall leading to the first locker room. The problem with these concrete enclosures is the complete lack of anything to absorb sound. And sound bounces off water to a greater extent. Have you ever been out on a boat in the middle of a lake where you can hear voices from a campground far away? It’s the same with locker rooms; nothing to absorb sound. This is either a benefit or liability depending on the situation.

Nothing but a slow drip of water comes from within. I slide into the dark room. I feel anxious about being in a dark interior but that is only from prior experiences with night runners. I’m pretty sure there aren’t any night runners about so I shake off the increase in anxiety. I don’t know what’s worse; marauders with guns or night runners. At least I know about the marauders, along with a little more knowledge about their capabilities, and human nature to an extent so I think I’ll take them over the night runners. Yeah, I’ll take that any day.

The usual showers along one wall with stalls, sinks, and benches fill the interior. A wheeled basket with towels is shoved up against one wall. The smell of soap and the humid nature of the room let me know it’s been used recently. This must be where they take the “captives” after their meals and let them clean up. A pile of dirty clothes sits in one of the corners. I slink through the room to the other entrance door.

I know there is a long hallway past the door leading to the entrance doors of the gym. There are also doors at the far ends that lead into the gym entrance foyers. I crack the door and put my signal mirror out into the hall. I would use the fiberscope but the doors are too tight fitting. The hall appears dark with exit lights shining at either end. A small amount of light streams in from small windows inset into the gym entrance doors and hits the wall in an elongated rectangle. Most importantly, no one is in the hall. There aren’t any places of cover though. From here on out, if I encounter anyone armed, they go down.

My thumb caresses the selector switch making sure I’m on semi. If I do meet up with anyone in the hall, hopefully the sound will be contained within. I can switch to auto if needed but the sound of one round is much different than that of auto fire and can be dismissed by anyone hearing. With a deep sigh, I snake into the hall. Next time, I’m going to be the one sitting on a hill watching others do this.

I creep down the hall with periodic looks behind. Nearing the light from the door’s window casting a dim outline of the window against the opposite wall, I ready myself for it to swing open. That seems to be the way my luck runs. I sneak a peek through the window. The mirror might cast a reflection inside so I use my Mark 1 eyeball. The gym is dimly lit by a few overhead lights hanging from the ceiling far above. A row of folded bleachers sits just inside with cots spread in lines across the wooden floor. Lumps on the cots indicate they are occupied. An upper gym overlooks the main gym on the far side and two guards stand by metal railings. I look at the lumps on the cots searching for a telltale head. Those I can see appear to be males.

There, on the second cot down in the first line of cots closest to me, is the familiar short hair of Robert. My heart soars at the sight of him. The thought of darting in, grabbing him and vanishing in the darkness of the compound enters my mind. Or, I could take the guards out and do the same. This thought however subsides as there is Bri, Michelle, and Gonzalez to get out as well. Any action taken now will result in our presence becoming known and make it more than doubly difficult to get any of them out.

I head to the doors a short distance away at the end of the hall. The metal doors, with larger panes of glass set into their upper frames, look over the entrance foyer. Two guards sit in plastic chairs by the front entrance. I’m conscious of the one roving guard from earlier and check the hall behind. Empty. I head back to the door to the gym. Waiting for the guards overlooking the main gym to both have their attention focused elsewhere, I slip inside and ease the door shut as I fold into shadows of the bleachers where they meet the wall.

I turn off and raise my goggles. The inside is in fact very dimly lit but I’m able to see clearly regardless. I kneel and wait for another opportunity. I may not be able to take Robert out on this trip but I at least want him to know I’m here. The guards become involved in a conversation and I slide out to the first cot, coming to rest on my stomach adjacent to it. The cot shields me from the guards above should they look in this direction.

“Mister, what are you doing?” A voice whispers just above me.

I look up and see the face of a young lad peering down at me. “Shhhh… Lie back on your cot and go back to sleep,” I whisper. The face sinks back to the cot.

I look to Robert on the next cot down. He is looking right at me and smiling, apparently alerted by the youth above me talking. I place my fingers on my lips and he nods. I raise my head a touch and see the guards still locked in conversation. I slowly slide until I’m next to Robert; our heads only a foot away.

“Are you okay?” I whisper.

“Yeah. I figured you’d be here. Are the others with you?”

“No, it’s just me for now,” I answer. “There are a couple of teams in the hills close by. Where are the girls?”

“They keep them in the classroom buildings. Gonzalez says there are two guards in rooms at night and one during the day,” he answers.

“Good to know,” I reply. “Are they okay?”

“Bri might have a fracture or broken arm but other than that, they’re fine,” he answers in a whisper not moving his head off the cot.

“Fuckers! Payment’s coming. What’s the story here?”

“Two guards are always on the balcony with two more at night at the entrances as far as I can tell,” he answers. “The guys are kept in here and the girls in classrooms.”

“And, Dad, Mom’s here,” he adds with excitement edging into his voice.

“Really? That’s great,” I answer with a touch of confusion. I could have sworn that was her in the house when I went to get the kids. I truly thought she had been turned into a night runner. This evening just gets crazier.

“Yeah. Pretty cool. What’s the plan?” He asks.

“Well, I think I can get you out of here. I’m not sure about being able to sneak in the classrooms and getting the girls though. That’s my next stop,” I answer.

“I’m not leaving without Michelle,” Robert replies.

“This is no time for heroics or the knight in shining armor bullshit. When I say so, roll off the cot and follow me,” I say.

“Dad, I’m not leaving her,” he whispers adamantly.

“Ah, fuck! Dammit! Okay, fine,” I say fully understanding. I mean, I went half way across the world for that very same reasoning. “I have to go check the classroom layout. We’ll be back in two nights. Don’t do anything foolish and stay under the radar.”

“I will, Dad, and thanks,” he replies.

“For what?” I ask.

“For coming,” he answers. This confuses me to an extent as I can’t fathom doing anything else. I guess it’s my night to be confused.

“The second night. Tell the others if you can. I love you, Robert.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

I reach up and grasp his shoulder for a moment and then slip back to the first cot when the opportunity affords. I’m over to the bleacher corner and out of the door with a heavy heart. I really wanted to bring him with me and I feel a weight settle in leaving him. I understand but still feel like heading back in and knocking some sense into him. With a heavy sigh, I retrace my route carefully and am back outside with the resolve that, if I can extract the girls safely tonight, I’ll be back for him as well. Lynn’s words of not doing anything foolish echo in my mind.

I was just planning to look around and that still may be just all that I do, but seeing Robert in the gym and knowing Bri is close by alters some of my thinking. I know this puts the others captured at a greater risk and would make it hard to also get them out. I feel a quandary as to what the right thing to do is. In a perfect world, it would be to get everyone out but this is far from a perfect world and I am far from perfect myself. If I have a chance to get my kids, Michelle, and Gonzalez out, I’m doing it. I guess that also includes their mom. I would feel their wrath and disappointment if I didn’t bring her as well, especially after they have just found her. That is still confusing. If that wasn’t her in the house, then who was it?

I listen for any sounds of disturbance or of my potential roving friend. It appears everything is the way I left it. With my goggles back in place, I see the doors to a classroom building across the dark road. I know it’s dark but they are all visible in the green glow of my vision. I’ll be a visible shadow crossing the road though. I move over to the trees that are close to the pavement and cross quickly. Against one of the double-entry doors, I peer in through the glass pane that occupies the entire upper half of the door.

A long hallway stretches away with lockers placed up against the walls. The only break in the line of lockers is where classroom doors exit off the hall. I see the pale glow of the starlit night enter another set of doors at the opposite end of the hallway. Nothing moves within. I raise my goggles for a quick glance and see it’s pitch black inside. The green glow comes alive again as I lower them back into place with a soft click. Testing the door closest to me, it opens easily and I slip inside.

Silence reigns in the darkened interior. My pulse rises yet again at being in a dark building. My heart hammers in my chest knowing that discovery is only a quick coincidence away. I slide softly across the fake tile floor to the first classroom door and listen. Nothing. The small-paned windows are frosted so I can’t readily see inside. I do notice a gap between the floor and bottom edge of the door. Withdrawing the fiberscope, I slide the end under the door, keeping a large part of my senses oriented to my environment. The viewing screen will cast a small amount of light around me so I listen for any doors opening or hint that the hall is about to become occupied by someone other than me. What I really hope for is that, if any door is going to open, it won’t be the one directly behind me.

With another look around, I turn on the screen. The image becomes instantly visible. The low light capability of the scope shows the interior of the room. A little grainy but objects are distinctly visible nonetheless. Cots similar to the ones in the gym appear and seem to be formed in two or three rows. I see a lump on the one closest but can’t discern anything other than that from the low point of my view. Bookshelves line the rear of the classroom and I see the blinds over the far windows are closed. The vantage point doesn’t allow me to see the front of the room clearly. Movement in the room. A guard stands in the far corner. I make ready to pull the fiber out and beat cheeks outside.

He leans back and is apparently working kinks out of his back. I’ve seen enough here though. I won’t be able to see where anyone is unless I can gain a different angle. That may be difficult as I don’t see any apparent gap on the sides or top of the door. I mark this room as occupied in my head and move across the hall to do the same.

The first four doors, two on each side are subsequently marked as occupied as I slowly progress down the hall. The fifth door is across from another frosted paned door marked “Girls.” Sliding the fiber under the fifth classroom door, I hear the handle move on the next door up the hall. I quickly turn off the screen and pull the fiber out from under the door. I see the door swing open into the hall and creep to the corner where the line of lockers, between me and the door, meets the wall. The beam of a flashlight sweeps out across the floor. I have the lockers between me and yet another flashlight holder.

“Make this snappy,” I hear a male voice echo in the hall.

Footsteps make their way closer; one is the sound of boots stepping heavily on the floor and another is the soft padding of bare feet. Yeah, bare feet slapping on the floor in a darkened building does nothing to steady my nerves. I know it’s not a night runner but it dredges up bad memories anyway. The beam and footsteps draw rapidly near. Once they reach my position, it won’t take much to see me. Maybe I’ll just wave politely and all will be good. This stress must be taking a toll psychologically.

The light flashes on the bathroom door across from me and a young girl, silhouetted in the beam, reaches out to open the door. She steps inside and the man follows; the door closing slowly behind them. The light glows faintly from behind the window pane, catching and keeping the man’s silhouette. What is it with everyone having to go to the bathroom when I’m in a hallway? With a moment of revulsion, I rise and gingerly step further down the hall closer to the entrance and once again seek a corner of the locker and wall. If I was to stay in my previous location, it would have been a given that I’d be seen when they emerged. I do listen closely for any signs of foul play; a scream or a pleading whimper. If that happens, all bets are off and the rain will begin.

I have my signal mirror out close to ground level looking down the hall. A muted sound of a toilet flushing a minute or two later is the only noise that comes from the bathroom. The light against window brightens and the door swings open. The young girl yawns as they both tread back to the classroom they originally exited from. No use looking in that sixth room as I now know it’s occupied.

It is, however, the last room in the building to be occupied. The remaining rooms consist of boxes and assorted goods with the very last two still having their original desks in place. I exit quietly and proceed to the next classroom building to find it is being used as a barracks; at least as far as I can tell. This must be where the dayshift guards stay; maybe trading off with the nightshift. The third classroom building is unoccupied except for several rooms full of boxes. I leave and find myself back at the dumpster outside of the gym.

It’s here that I realize Greg was correct in that I didn’t think this all of the way through. Getting back out will be in the same manner as my entrance. However, that would put me outside in the night with the possibility that night runners are about. I can’t very well wait it out and stroll out through the front gate during the day. I sit and ponder the options. I could take my chances with the night runners but that doesn’t leave me with warm, fuzzy feelings. I could hole up and wait until the day and try to sneak out then. The side towers would be vacant and, if I can make it to the fence, then I should be able to get out okay. The problem with that is the daytime activity is increased. I could wait until Greg and crew assault but that isn’t a very happy thought either.

I guess a third option is to start taking guards out now but my sneaking around would end with the first shots. Yeah, didn’t think this one all of the way through for sure. How did I not think about this before? Wanting to get to the kids blinded my usual pretty thorough planning process. I only thought about getting in. Getting out was obviously left as an afterthought. Well, I guess it’s get out, stay close to the lights, and take my chances with the night runners. Being caught inside certainly isn’t going to do me any good.

With my mind made up, I creep slowly until I’m adjacent to the third tower. On my way across the open ground, I hear shrieks from time to time around the camp. The very sound freezes my soul, especially thinking I’ll soon be on the absolute wrong side of the fence. I should listen to Lynn better, I think crouching close to the tower. I notice the spotlight is fixated on a point in the woods. I crouch and wait.

A loud shriek erupts from within the woods. The spotlight swings a few feet to the left. “See, I told you I saw something,” I hear a voice say in the tower. “Base, we have company in the woods outside of tower five.”

I don’t hear the reply as I’m already on my way back to the copse of trees between the tennis courts and gym. Well, that’s not going to work, I think leaning against one of the trees. Think, Jack, think. I ponder many courses of action but find problems with each one. The best option I come up with is to find a place to wait out the night close to the fence, wait for the guards to leave the side towers during the early hours of morning, and make my way back. It will be riskier with more light but not riskier than wandering through woods loaded with night runners. Several shrieks echo in the forest as if in answer to my thoughts.

The lack of gunfire from the towers tells me the guards can’t see the night runners. Believe me guys, they’ll find a way in through your fence given time, I think looking around for a suitable place to hole up in. I see a depression in the ground close to the tennis courts and just inside the small stand of firs. I edge over. It appears to be used for drainage and is actually fairly deep. I crawl in and up to a point where a couple of bushes overhang the depression.

I look around. From my new vantage point, I should be fairly invisible from the classroom doors and hopefully away the route the guards will take from their towers. With it being in close proximity to the tennis courts and out of the way, no one should venture this way unless they have a specific reason to do so. I cradle my M-4 without silhouetting myself and prepare to wait.

“Greg, this is Jack,” I whisper into the radio.

“Yeah, Jack, Greg here,” I hear him answer.

“I’m going to be a little late,” I say.

“Anything wrong?” He asks.

“I seem to have gotten myself stuck,” I answer and give him a synopsis of my situation. I also quickly brief him on what I found and the layout of the facility just in case.

“Copy that, Jack. I’ll move the teams closer when it gets light,” he replies.

“Okay. If you see a guy dashing madly through the trees like his ass is on fire, be ready for company just behind,” I say. “Oh, and please don’t shoot at said madly running guy.”

“Not to worry, we’ll be able to spot you by the way you run,” Greg responds with a chuckle.

“Very fucking funny. Jack, out,” I reply.

“You know, it’s a very good thing they decided to end radio calls with ‘out’ instead of ‘off’,” he says chuckling.

“I only have one thing to say in regards to that and it involves the process of biting and my ass,” I respond.

“See you in the morning, Jack,” Greg says with a final laugh and signs off.

The night passes slowly. Shrieks and howls come periodically from near and far. I’m rather thankful I didn’t venture out. There’s only one interruption to my otherwise semi-peaceful evening is from the ever alert and vigilant guard making another round. Yeah, that was sarcasm. The sky to the east lightens with the coming dawn. The screams and shrieks end along with it. The coast is clear. Well, at least as far as outside of the fence.

I hear movement over by the towers as ladders are lowered. My headache has returned but not the deep pounding it was. Voices drift across the fields as guards begin to make their way back to the central compound from the various towers. I know the corner towers will remain manned but that shouldn’t be a problem. The eastern sky has the bright blue portending the sun’s appearance. I watch as the guards skirt the copse of trees and head toward the inner buildings. So far, there isn’t any other stirring from within. I raise my head and see the fields are clear of movement.

“This is Jack, I’m moving out,” I say.

“Copy that, Jack, we’re on the move as well,” Greg replies. His voice sounds as tired as I feel.

“Is anyone still overlooking the camp?” I ask.

“Henderson is with the radios and Denton is on overwatch,” he answers. “They didn’t want to but stayed anyway.”

“Good. I may need eyes on the towers soon. Out,” I say.

Lying on the ground and being up all night has taken its toll. My eyes feel gritty from the lack of sleep and I don’t even want to think about how my breath smells. I know my senses will be off so I need to take extra care. A tired mind misses aspects and that could end up being a very bad thing. I almost wish for the “pep” pills we used to take that would help out in these situations. They made it rough on the appetite and body in general but kept us alert in the field.

I look around once more and know I have to be off soon before the activity of the day starts. That won’t be far off. I rise slowly feeling every bone creak in protest. The sounds are similar to gunshots going off. At least that’s the way it feels and sounds. Shaking my head in an attempt to clear some of the cobwebs, I move slowly through the remaining trees. I skirt the tennis court keeping low. Adrenaline has found its way into my body once again but it seems to do little as I just want to lie back down and go to sleep.

At the fence, a short distance away from my ‘door,’ I lie down and creep along close to the edge. I think about just spraying another opening at my present location but the risk of discovery of a fence breach increases with each one created. I reach the opening and uncoil the wire holding the corners together. This is where the chance of discovery increases with it being so much lighter. A fence being peeled back will be easily seen from either corner tower should they look in this direction at the wrong time. The sun hasn’t crested the mountains as yet but the pre-dawn light definitely makes it easier to see.

“Denton, this is Jack,” I say lying alongside the fence.

“Go ahead, sir,” I hear him reply.

“Can you see the corner tower guards clearly?” I ask.

“That’s affirmative, sir,” Denton answers.

“Okay, tell me when they aren’t looking back along the western fence line,” I say.

“You’re good to go, sir. They’re not looking your way,” he replies.

I quickly bend the fence back and slip through. Immediately falling to my stomach, I pull the fence back and coil the wire once again. I play the same game of parting the grass and moving forward using Denton as my eyes on the towers. Slipping inside the tree line never felt so good.

“I’m out,” I say. “Thanks for your help.”

“My pleasure, sir. Glad you made it,” Denton says.

I edge deeper into the line of trees between the camp and the road. Footprints show in the dirt and needles strewn across the forest floor. The night runners have been busy here. I’m guessing there was a lingering smell from my passage and I make a mental note to put on the scent eliminator earlier. I seem to be making a lot more mental notes these days. Hopefully some decide to stick around.

I arrive at the grass strip separating the trees from the road. Two heads rise from the tall grass on the other side of the road close to the highway.

“I’m in the edge of the trees across from you,” I say into the radio.

“We see you. It looks clear from here,” I hear Greg respond.

The sun crests the hills. Sunlight spreads through the trees and beams of light paint strips of brown grass in their radiance. Small wisps of steam begin to rise from where the limited sunlight strikes the stalks. I edge toward the road pulling the grass up behind to cover my tracks. Reaching the road, I sprint across. I’m so tired that it feels like I’m running in slow motion. My legs feel like I’m dragging a block of cement behind but I eventually reach the far side, leap over the ditch, and climb the small embankment. With McCafferty and Greg following, we make it into the trees. Greg covers our tracks and we head out for our little camp.

Arriving in our concealed spot, I tiredly remove my gear and drop it in the back of a Humvee. I see dark circles under Greg’s eyes and imagine mine are the same. I want nothing more than to just drop to the ground and sink into a coma. I have a few more items to cover before that happens though.

“Lynn, this is Jack, over,” I say with my eyes feeling like they are going to close on their own accord.

“I take it you made it back, Jack,” she responds with the same tired voice we all have. I should have known she’d be up the entire night monitoring as well.

“Yeah, hon, I’m back,” I reply.

“Good. I’m glad. Shall we have a discussion now about going off with half-assed plans?” She asks.

“I’d prefer not to thanks but point taken,” I answer. I’m still a little surprised at myself for not taking the exit into account. To be honest, I feel a little ashamed.

“I’m just glad you’re okay, Jack. What’s the plan?” She asks.

“Well, I think we’re going to need two more teams up here to do this right,” I say.

“That will leave us a little thin here. Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie teams left heading south to see about a windmill,” she says.

“Okay, one team then and we’ll make do,” I say giving directions and caution her to travel slowly on the access road. I mention dragging branches behind to cover their tracks.

“Okay, Jack, I’ll send them out pronto,” Lynn says.

“Can you have them bring ladders? We’ll need collapsible ones like the portable tactical assault ladders. I think they might have them or something close in the armory or at the store,” I say. “Oh, and a few slabs of thawed meat in airtight bags.”

“Do you want scones and glass of milk as well?” She asks with a small laugh.

“If you have them, that would be great, thanks,” I answer.

“Anything else?” Lynn asks.

“Yeah, the silenced M-110’s, long links of light but sturdy chain, C-clamps, all of the 550 cord you can get, at least ten claymores and a corresponding amount of 30-minute fuse pencils,” I answer adding a ‘pretty please’ at the end.

“Okay, I have to ask. What in the hell do you want the slabs of meat for?” Lynn asks.

“I’ll tell ya later,” I answer.

“Okay, Jack, I’ll see what we can dig up here and be out shortly,” she says signing off.

“Does that mean she’s coming out with Black Team?” Greg asks.

“I’d place money on it,” I reply.

“What the hell do you want the meat for?” He asks.

“Just an idea I have,” I answer. He shakes his head and walks off to rest.

I settle to the ground after seeing our day shift is covered and relish in the simple luxury of being able to lie down and rest. I watch as the occasional bird wings across the open space of the power lines looking for better hunting grounds. I look up through the boughs of the tree above and watch a squirrel launch from one limb to another. I think how nice it would be just to enjoy that freedom. I realize this is a rather simplistic thought as their world is just as fraught with danger; finding food and surviving. A day of planning, another night and day of watching and then we’re going in. I drift off as beams of sunlight stream through the air above.

I drift in and out, finally waking in the late afternoon. I realize I heard a radio call from our outpost indicating a Humvee was pulling past. Our backup has arrived. Through the trees, I see the vehicle slowly moving up the road. In periodic glimpses through the gaps, I see an extendable ladder strapped to the top. I bet that was fun, I think rising. Others guide the Humvee under the trees and Lynn steps out. I brush the needles, twigs, and other assorted objects off my fatigues and meet her with a hug and a kiss. The rest of Black Team exits and we cover the vehicle with branches in a like manner to our own.

With a yawn, I try to banish the remnants of my nap. The day is another warm one but the breeze blowing lightly through keeps it cool enough in the shade. The black fatigues hold the heat however and I soon feel like another nap would be nice.

“What’s the plan, Jack?” Lynn asks after situating herself and I take a look at the gifts they brought.

The ladders are extendable and fold down to about twelve inches. The extension ladder is a monster and will take some doing to get it through the woods quietly but it won’t be taken all of the way inside so it’ll work. I gather everyone around and give a basic layout of the area, both inside and out; drawing a diagram of the camp in the dirt.

“They number their towers in order starting from the southwest corner,” I say pointing to the rocks I put to designate the towers.

“They’ve separated the men from the women. The men are being held in the main gym and the women in the first six classrooms of the middle classroom building. The far end classroom building is being used for a barracks as far as I could tell. The office is manned and lit at night,” I continue outlining guard positions and describing my observations in detail complete with night runner activity.

Lynn stares at the twigs, rocks and lines in the dirt. Well, we all do as if a magic answer will appear. I see the cogs turning in her head to the point I’m surprised wisps of smoke don’t appear from her ears. She rubs her chin in contemplation. “Day or night?” She finally asks.

“You know, I have a plan in mind but I’m not really sure to be honest. Day will eliminate night runner risks but will definitely make it harder. If I knew what their reaction on their ‘guests’ would be, it would be an easier choice. They keep them covered pretty well so collateral casualties are a real possibility if we go in during the day. That’s something we avoid at all costs,” I answer. Everyone gathered nods in understanding.

“So it’s a night op then,” Greg states.

“I think so but the night runners being in the woods last night have me worried. We’ll have to infiltrate quickly and our timing will have to be spot on,” I reply.

“You said you have a plan?” Lynn asks looking up.

“Well, it’s not much of one but it’s the only plan I can think of without truly knowing their patterns and I’m not leaving the kids in there long enough to find each and every one of them. I think the location I went in is the best place to infiltrate. We’ll have to minimize our time in the trees and make it a bit quicker than last night. The last thing we need is to be trapped between the night runners and the camp. We’ll approach the camp toward dusk and wait for deep twilight. Two of us will creep up to the fence and gain entry. Once inside, who are the two best shooters here?” I ask looking around.

Everyone looks at everyone else. “I’m a pretty decent shot, sir,” Henderson finally speaks up. “And Denton is pretty damn good.”

“Okay, you two are it. Those 110’s are sighted in but I want everyone with a 110 to head off tomorrow and get them sighted in,” I say turning back to describe the plan using the diagram etched in the dirt.

“Yes, sir,” Henderson responds. “What distance are you thinking?”

“100 yards but test your bullet drop compensators out to 250 yards,” I answer.

“Hell, sir, I could throw a rock with deadly accuracy at that range,” he says. “But okay.”

“Once inside,” I continue, “and by tower 5, Henderson and Denton will take out the two guards. They need to be further back in the trees to minimize noise but with a good line of sight. We’ll be packing one of the tactical ladders and once the guards are down, one of us will scale the tower and take over the guard functions. We’ve monitored enough of their radio traffic to fit in. The rest will then hurry through the gap in the fence. I want Henderson and Denton on tower 5 replacing the initial team member there. We’ll then make for the trees between the gym and tennis courts. Everyone clear so far?” I ask.

“Who are the initial two in?” Lynn asks.

“Myself and Greg,” I answer. “The tower transmissions we’ve picked up so far have all been male so we need a male voice in the tower in case they notice the spotlight not conforming to its usual search pattern and call to find out what’s going on.”

Lynn nods and I continue. “Last one through closes the fence. Henderson and Denton will keep an overwatch but make sure you also watch the perimeter. We don’t want any night runners interfering with this flawless plan,” I say with a chuckle. Lynn shakes her head. Yeah, I don’t know why she puts up with me either.

“Once in the trees, we’ll split. I’ll take McCafferty and we’ll head into the gym. Lynn, you and Greg will head into the second classroom building with Black and Echo Teams. My thinking is to take the rooms with the women at once. Rush in together by twos, take out the guards and calm the captives. There’s just enough to take on the six rooms,” I say.

“Do you want us to start taking out the guards in the towers?” Henderson asks.

“No. Here’s the funny part. They’ll be helping to keep the night runners at bay if they show up so we need them in place for the time being,” I answer.

“And you two will be taking on the gym all by your lonesome?” Lynn asks.

“Yeah, it’s not really guarded well and we should only need two. I would like more but it’s more important to hit the classrooms at once. The suppressed shots shouldn’t be heard outside of the building but they definitely will within it,” I answer. “Now, we’ll have to clear the gym first because you’ll then bring the women into the gym so I want you to wait under the cover of the trees until we finish and then head in.”

“Why don’t we just bring the women out the way we went in? We’ll have the exit covered with Henderson and Denton,” Greg asks.

“Night runners,” I answer.

“Ah, yeah,” he says with a nod. “Okay then, how do we get everyone out? And what about the other guards?”

“Well, here’s where it gets a little quirky,” I answer. Lynn bursts out laughing and it takes a little time until she can get herself under control. By the end, she has all of us smiling. Laughter is contagious that way.

With more people and the lack of night runners, this would be a piece of cake. Well, nothing like this is a piece of cake but it sure would make it easier. Go in, take the immediate guards out and extricate the captives. The night runners throw a real wrench into the works.

“How many slabs of meat did you bring?” I ask Lynn.

“You’re kidding right?!?” She asks in return. “I thought you were just joking about that.”

“But you did bring them right?”

“Yes, Jack, I brought six big steaks but really?!”

“I’m afraid so,” I answer. I now have everyone’s attention. Heck, I even have my own which has to be a first.

“Henderson and Denton will carry two of them, Lynn, you will have the rest. When we’ve cleared the rooms, Lynn, you and Black Team will proceed to the barracks and block the doors open. Take one steak and set it in the hallway. Drop another outside on your way back. Greg, Echo Team will escort the women to the gym. Henderson, Denton, once we’ve extricated the women and they’re safely in the gym, one of you will then open the fence and toss one into the woods and leave the other by the opening,” I say having a hard time holding back a grin. “Black team will hold up in the woods to cover you as you both quietly make your way there and link up. Once you’re linked up, leave another steak in the woods. Once everyone is in the gym, we’ll seal it up with the chains and wait the night out. The night runners will be drawn in by the steaks and take out the guards for us,” I finish almost out of breath.

There is a stunned silence as I complete telling my plan. I let the silence settle for a moment. I’m once again having a difficult time keeping the laughter inside. “Any questions so far?” I ask close to not being able to contain myself.

The stunned silence continues. “Yeah, um, I have one,” Lynn says finally. “Are you out of your fucking mind? I swear, Jack. If I didn’t know you better, I’d swear you carried around a paper bag full of paint fumes. Does this just come naturally to you or do inner voices speak to you? Did they really used to let you out to play during the day? Please tell me you are kidding!?”

“Yes, I’m kidding. I’m just letting off some tension,” I reply and see other shoulders sag in relief with my answer.

“You do know you aren’t funny right? So what are the steaks really for and what’s the real plan?” Lynn asks.

“I am going to leave early and drop them off in the trees on the other side of the compound in an attempt to draw the night runners off,” I answer. “Okay, for real, the plan is the same up to the point of getting to the trees, clearing the gym, and then the classrooms. The women will be escorted into the gym by Echo Team with Black Team maintaining a defensive line between the gym and barracks close to the first classroom building. Echo provides escort. We’ll bring them through the pool entrance so they won’t become exposed to the guards by the outside lights. Clear so far?”

Nods indicate they are still with me. I continue, “Okay, once we get everyone in the gym we’ll move onto phase two which will be the tower guards. At this point, we’ll start taking out all of the perimeter guards. We’ll be packing the 110’s. Black and Echo team, along with Henderson and Denton, will start taking out the tower guards. Work out amongst yourselves exactly which towers you will take, two guards to a tower so two guns per tower. Move quickly onto the next towers. That will leave the perimeter unguarded so Henderson and Denton, head to the gym as soon as the towers are clear. McCafferty and I will be conducting phase three which consists of the guards sleeping it off in the barracks. We’ll place the claymores with the fuse pencils in the guard rooms and meet you in the gym. Once we’re all in the gym, we lock it down with the chains, C-clamps, and 550 cord on the main gym interior doors and wait til morning.”

“That’s much better, Jack,” Lynn says.

“Yeah, I have to say that’s a much better plan than your, um, first one,” Greg says.

“So, I won’t be taking any meat with me?” Henderson asks.

“No, you won’t be packing around steaks,” I answer chuckling. “Questions so far before we move on to contingencies?”

“How are we going to keep the ‘guests’ quiet? They’re not exactly going to react well to fancily clad people strolling into their rooms in the middle of the night shooting,” Greg asks.

“That’s up to each team pair to do. Quiet them down immediately and let them know you are there to help but they have to be quiet,” I answer. “Ask for help from the older women if there are any young girls, or anyone else, who can’t control themselves.”

“Anything else up to this point?” Shaking heads answer. “Okay, contingencies. We’ll be formed up in a box in the woods during the initial penetration. If night runners appear while we’re still outside, we’ll fold up to the highway in a box pattern. Once on the highway, we’ll make our way to the overpass. That way we’ll only have two approaches to cover. The gig will be up and we’ll figure something else out afterwards. Let’s make sure to carry plenty of ammo.” I look around and see everyone nodding.

“Any roving guards are to be left alone for the time being. Let them pass. If discovery is imminent, then they are to be taken down as quietly as possible and the body or bodies hidden. If we get involved in a firefight, we’ll gauge our options at that time. We’re greatly outnumbered with shooters on high ground all around us. Henderson and Denton will start taking out the tower guards if that happens. Again, the gig will be up and we’ll weigh our options if we’re discovered; whether to press on or engage in a fighting withdrawal. If we’re discovered rescuing the women, we’ll hustle them into the gym. At that point, we’re committed. We’ll need to help Henderson and Denton out as their asses will be flapping in the breeze. Echo, that’s your job. Greg, get the captives in the gym and then you’re out with your team clearing the towers,” I say.

“Gotcha,” he says.

“One last thing, if it looks like the tower to the south will be a problem upon our entry, then we’ll take it out the same manner but with Henderson eventually manning that one and Denton in tower five,” I add.

“Thus the second ladder,” Lynn says.

“Yep, thus the second ladder,” I say nodding.

“My jaw aches from so much talking so it’s your turn,” I say addressing the group as a whole.

“I don’t really have anything to add,” Lynn says.

“Me either,” Greg comments with the rest shaking their heads.

“Let’s rest up, keep our watches, and brief your teams when they come in. Oh, and keep my fine work of art clear to use for your briefings or if you need another look or two,” I say.

The rest of the afternoon floats by lazily yet with a prevalent tension knowing action is coming up. We have another night and day until we go in but there is always a certain amount of anxiety present when a known operation is on the horizon. Part of it is the ‘let’s get on with it’ aspect. The waiting game is a hard one. I sit for most of the time staring down at the diagram looking for something I’ve overlooked or missed. Lynn sits quietly with me; our hands clasped. We chat, share a laugh or two, or talk seriously about a variety of subjects but my mind is never far from my kids or the plan.

The evening and night passes in much the same manner as the one prior. It’s hard to sleep on the hard floor of the Humvee even with the cushion of a sleeping bag nestled below. Couple that with the aroma of a few people who haven’t been introduced to a shower in a couple of days and it makes it a very interesting place indeed to try to rest. The morning dawns with a few yawns and a scramble to get out of the Humvee. Apparently, several others share my thoughts on the locker room smell and are in need of some fresh air.

We head off in a couple of vehicles to sight in the 110’s leaving a skeleton crew behind to monitor the camp. We head slowly down the access road and up the side road for several miles finding an old rock quarry. The sun beams brightly as we shoulder our M-110’s and begin sighting in. A line of clouds paint the sky to the west indicating a front coming in. I monitor them and notice they aren’t advancing quickly so we should have a clear night. I’m anxious to be done here and get started toward the compound. It’s going to take me some time to maneuver around the camp and place the steaks.

We finally finish and make our way back to camp. The going is slow so as not to raise a dust cloud and to also erase our tracks. We pull up with the heat of the day climbing. There is a palpable increase in humidity and I glance again at the clouds on the horizon. They haven’t moved. We clean our weapons and I begin to gather my gear. I’ll be meeting the rest of the teams in the woods close to the camp after I finish. I think about taking Lynn or McCafferty as more eyes are better, especially seeing I’ll have to transit outlying residential areas to the north of the high school. I’ll have to swing very wide of the compound and come down from the north so I’m not seen from the towers and then exit in the same manner. The one aspect about heading through residential areas is that no one is likely to be around. Our lookouts monitoring the camp will be able to let us know if someone heads in our direction.

I talk to Lynn about taking someone with me. After she recovers from her shock and actually reaches up to my forehead to see if I’m alright, she mentions she’d like to go. As she so delicately put it, “I’ll be there to be the ‘anti-stupid move or decision’ person,” she said with a big smile. We kid each other a lot but never really mean it. Our skins are thick enough to handle a little fun sarcasm.

“Are you saying I don’t make good decisions?” I ask giving my fake shocked look.

“Jack, you attract all sorts of odd situations,” she says.

“Huh! Name one,” I reply.

“One!? Why don’t you make it a little more difficult? Okay, how about everyone needing to urinate when you’re in a hallway,” she says and is on the verge of listing more. I’m sure she has quite the list stored up.

“Okay, point taken,” I say leaning over quickly to kiss her on the forehead.

“Are we ready?” She asks patting her vest and checking her mags.

“Just about,” I say reaching in and cutting a couple long strips of cardboard from the boxes we brought supplies in.

Lynn watches with her head tilted to the side wondering what is in store. I have a theory that she only stays with me to see what ridiculous idea I’ll come up with next. It’s like I have an entertainment value for her. I call Henderson and Denton over. I grab a roll of duct tape, roll the cardboard strips around the muzzle of the 110’s they’re carrying, and tape them securely into place. Even Greg has taken an interest in the proceedings. The rifles end up with a cardboard tube extending approximately a foot and a half from the muzzle.

“What’s that for?” Lynn asks.

“It’s an old trick I learned. It helps to keep the muzzle flash from being seen from the side. When we take out tower five, the flash won’t be seen from the other towers to the side,” I say handing Henderson’s weapon to him and begin working on Denton’s.

“You’re such a dork, Jack,” Lynn comments smiling at my handiwork.

“Hmmm… Rather ingenious. Does it work?” Greg asks.

“Well, it did to an extent. Can’t completely cover any flash but it did minimize it to the side. Of course, the light is then focused to the front making it much more visible to those in front but I’m more worried about it being seen from the side towers,” I answer. “If the guards in tower five see it, it will be followed shortly by the cause of the flash thereby rendering the sighting moot.”

I check my equipment and prepare to head off with Lynn. “You do know I’m kidding when I make those comments, right?” Lynn asks making sure her words are for my ears only.

“Of course. I wouldn’t have you any other way,” I answer seeing a hint of worry in her eyes. The worry vanishes with my words and is replaced by those blue eyes I just melt in.

“I love you,” I say.

“I love you too, Jack.” I still can’t figure out why but that’s not important.

“Shall we,” I say offering my elbow.

“Why of course my charming prince,” she says taking my arm.

“Oh, shit, forgot our beef,” I say turning back.

Gathering the steaks wrapped in large baggies, I look for where to stash them. I eventually decide to put some inside my vest and Lynn does the same. “I know where I’m going for dinner,” I say watching her stash two bags in the top of her vest.

“You wish you were so lucky,” she says and starts off.

We maneuver through the trees and shrubs, passing where I headed into the school grounds, until we get to a point further north. We then cut to the east and cross the highway without problems. Pushing slowly through more trees and ground covered in large bushes, we arrive at a wooden fence. The length of it, stretching away to the right and left, seems to be the boundary of a housing development or a series of backyards. Whichever it is, I don’t see an entry point along this length.

“It’s over we go I guess,” I say.

“We could try going around,” Lynn suggests.

“True. I think we’d find the same thing though. Time is not our friend,” I say. “Here, let me boost you up and take a peek.”

I lace my fingers together and form a cup for her to step in. She slowly edges up until she can barely see over the fence. “It looks clear,” she says after a moment and steps back to the ground.

“Okay, boost me then I’ll lift you up,” I say.

Shouldering my M-4, I step into her cupped hands and lift myself up. Straddling the fence, I lie across it to minimize my silhouette.

“Geez, Jack. Have you been eating everything that isn’t nailed down?”

I take Lynn’s 110 and loop it over one of the wooden fence posts as she shoulders her M-4. We lock hands to elbows and I lift as she pulls. She is over the fence in a short time. She grabs her M-110, shoulders it, and cradles her M-4 as I drop to the ground. We enter a backyard and scan the house we so rudely intruded upon. Nothing moves. The red swing set sits still, reminiscent of better times. The laughter of kids playing should be filling this yard but it is now only filled with memories. An inflatable pool is empty with one side deflated as if mimicking this new world. Scattered toys lie where they were last played with and forgotten.

A faint, rotten smell wafts through the back yard. We move to the side fence that opens to the street in front. It’s a shorter version of the wooden fence surrounding the rest of the yard. Pressed against the house, I look out from the corner. A street stretches straight ahead with similar houses lining it. A couple of streets branch off to the sides. The main street ends in a cul-de-sac in front of the house we are at and terminates at another main street in the distance; a red stop sign indicating its end.

“It looks clear. We’ll take opposite sides of the street and do a bounding cover advance up the street; two houses at a time,” I say. “I’ll go first on the right.”

Being on opposite sides of the street will give us better and wider views of the area and allow us to see things from different angles. I don’t think anyone is still around given the nature of the neighbors to the south but better safe than sorry.

“Okay, Jack, let’s do this,” Lynn replies.

I open the small gate and step out, keeping to the front of the houses as I make my way around the cul-de-sac. I come to rest by the corner of the second house and look over the area. I nod when I’m reasonably sure it’s clear. Lynn darts out from the yard, passing me on the opposite side of the street, and takes up a position at the corner one house down. She looks for a moment and nods. I rise and stop in a similar position two houses later. I check the side yards, windows, cars, and listen. I nod and Lynn proceeds. In this fashion, we reach the end of the street.

The street ahead of us is the main road that runs by the high school. The sun is almost directly overhead. The afternoon has begun. We’ll have to move slower as we get closer to the camp. We have time but not enough to set up camp and tell war stories. The red truck cruising around has never left my mind and, for this reason, the road in front of me has me nervous. We’re far enough away and around a bend in the road from the towers so I’m not worried about being seen by anyone there. It’s the truck and any other wandering patrols they might have.

“You watch, I’ll go,” I say into the radio.

“I’ve got you,” Lynn responds.

I rise and, with a look to the left and right, dash across. Going slow or creeping across a road is a truly useless action. I settle into bushes on the far side and wait. Nothing.

“Go,” I say.

Lynn dashes across and joins me. We enter a small band of trees and turn south, entering another neighborhood and make our way slowly through. Nearing an area adjacent to the school, we scale another fence and enter a large wooded expanse filled with trails. The area between the various trails is dense so we should be able to keep from being seen as long as someone from the compound doesn’t decide to take their afternoon power walk. I always thought it was crazy to have a densely wooded area across from a high school but maybe that was me being jealous that I didn’t have one like it when I went to school. On further thought, it’s probably a good idea there wasn’t.

We find a secluded spot and settle in. “What are we doing? I thought we were going to leave these and head back,” Lynn asks taking out the steaks.

“We made better time than I thought and we have time. If we put these out too early, I’m afraid any animals or wandering packs of dogs might get to them rendering the whole idea moot,” I answer. “They still might but at least the smell may linger.”

“Good point,” she says settling in next to me.

We wait out the afternoon listening to the squirrels and other small animals scurry about. I’m surprised to an extent that there doesn’t seem to be a population decrease with night runners about but I guess they would only be an additional predator to them. Or the night runners haven’t ventured here as yet. A thought occurs wondering how long the night runners can live if they can only hunt at night. There aren’t really that many predators that hunt at night for the very reason that a lot of prey has gone to ground. I mean, the large prey can’t so maybe they’ll survive. I wonder how the behavior of animals will change with a dramatic increase in the amount of night predators. Lynn always said I had too much time on my hands and these thoughts are the result of said time.

Afternoon rays of sun reach the forest floor in small strips of light and take on a more brown-orange tint as the day heads into late afternoon. Rising from where I had laid down, I mention it’s time to go. We take out the steaks which have turned from the delicious looking red to a less delicious brown-gray. Tossing them into the surrounding brush, we retrace our route to a point close to the highway and turn south to rendezvous with the rest of the teams.

The sun is behind the hills turning the surrounding area into the blue-gray shade of dusk. All of us are in the trees just out of sight of the camp in a box formation. We’ll move up just before the pure dark of the night in order to situate ourselves. My nerves are riding high. Being out in the dark with this many bodies and night runners possibly lurking in the area makes me extremely nervous. We sprayed the scent eliminator but who knows just how helpful that is with the tremendous capabilities of the night runners. Greg and I have also donned our stalks of grass. Waiting has always been the hardest part for me. Let’s just get it done one way or the other as far as I’m concerned.

Darkness closes in and faint shrieks reach our position in the trees as if vocally signaling the official beginning of night. Other shrieks sound from the east; across the compound. It’s only a matter of time before the night runners venture this way.

“Henderson, Denton, do you have shots?” I ask quietly.

“Yes, sir. They’re all lined up as long as the spotlight is to the side,” Henderson answers for both.

“Okay, Greg, let’s move,” I say grabbing a ladder.

I move out the same as I did two nights prior. Only this time I have the ladder underneath me as I move forward lifting me a little higher than I’d like. The lights pan across a couple of times and I bury myself as far into the ground as I can get. The beam focuses primarily in the trees but this time, on the third pass, it is sweeping directly across the grass. Uh oh, I think lowering my head. The pounding in my heart increases to the point that I hope I’m not shaking the grass nearby. The ground lightens as the spotlight inches closer. Well, it pans but it feels like it moves in inches. The ground grows lighter by the second until I am bathed in its radiance. The light stops.

The individual stalks cast their own shadow in the beam’s intensity. I can’t see much as the goggles haven’t adjusted to the intensity of the light change as yet. I have my head burrowed so I haven’t achieved a white-out condition but the clarity is gone. Thoughts wonder as to why the light has stopped but deep down, I know we’ve been spotted. Rise now and take the shot? Why hasn’t Henderson or Denton taken the shot? I don’t dare move to press the mic button to tell them to do so before the guards get a radio call out. Lynn is there and she’ll make the right call. My job is to lie perfectly still. The light stays.

Minutes pass — actually seconds. My nerves are on the highest edge and my mind warns my body to be prepared for pain. I just hope the team can get the kids out. I don’t care so much what happens to me just as long as they’re safe. The light beside me dims and darkness takes its place. I raise my head and see the light moving off to my right. I’m surprised my sigh doesn’t blow a six foot deep hole in the ground. A quick wave of nausea passes through me and I start to move again. I have just taken twenty years off my life but I’m still around.

I reach the fence and slide through at an opportune time and hold it open for Greg. We close it without sealing it and stalk up to the base of the tower. My whole body is still tingling from the close call but is settling down. I set the ladder down and lie in the grass with Greg by the opposite post. I give a thumbs up and see his in return through the green glow.

The spotlight is still off to the side panning around in the trees. “Henderson, Denton, when you have a moment, we’re ready,” I whisper into the radio.

Two soft claps reach out along with a corresponding double flash from within the depth of the trees. The claps are so close together they sound as if it’s almost one. The two 7.62mm rounds streak toward their destination uncaring what that might be. The first strikes one of the guards just to the right of the bridge of his nose and is deflected to the right ever so slightly. It mushrooms only a bit and the now slightly warped bullet passes through the tear duct meeting little to no resistance as it destroys the eye before entering the brain and impacting the rear of the cranium at a high rate of speed. There, it mushrooms fully and explodes out of the back taking a significant amount of the skull with it. A chunky spray, consisting of brain matter, blood, flesh, bone fragments, and hair, blows backward. The guard never knew what hit him. The nerve signals from the nose began their travel to the brain at light speed, firing several synapses along the way before being unable to continue. If the feel of the bullet striking the nose was even registered, it was so quick as to be non-existent. The guard was checking for movement along the beam of the spotlight and then all went black. Nothingness.

The second round hits the other guard in the middle of the forehead. The upward trajectory of the streaking projectile causes the bullet to angle sharply upward. The thick bone of the guard’s forehead mushrooms and splinters the shell as it penetrates the skull. Taking a sharp upward angle, the steel-core round slams into the top of the cranium and exits taking a large part of the guard’s head with it, splattering the ceiling of the guard tower with gore. The first guard’s head snaps backwards. His body follows and he drops from sight. The second guard’s body stands for a moment as if not believing it’s been injured and then falls heavily to the floor.

The spotlight flashes skyward and is lost from sight. The beam comes to rest, shining upward onto the ceiling of the tower. Greg and I rise as one and quickly pull the tactical ladder into its full upright position and attach the small hooks on the end to the tower overhang. With me holding the ladder, Greg quickly scales quietly upward. The ladder is made of hardened plastic which allows for a silent climb. I hear faint static from the radio above. The spotlight beam moves and is once again panning the area, carefully avoiding the team that has crept to the edge of the trees.

Another burst of static from the radio. I hear Greg faintly, “Yeah, it’s all good. I dropped the fucking thing.”

“Okay, Lynn, go,” I say lying once again in the grass at the base of the tower.

I sight in on the other side tower — tower four — and see nothing amiss. The soft sound of grass swishing against pants legs penetrates the area around the tower but not loud enough to be heard from any distance. I watch as Lynn slides through the fence and holds it open for the others. She then heads by me, pausing only to give me a firm hand squeeze on my shoulder, and, with the other team members following, makes her way slowly to the trees. McCafferty crouches beside me. Henderson and Denton arrive and quickly scale the tower as I hold the ladder steady. Greg climbs down and the ladder is pulled up. We are in and it was like a mist flowing rapidly onshore; swift and quiet.

A shriek echoes through the trees we just vacated. That was cutting it a bit close and other shrieks respond from the woods across the compound, seemingly from the area Lynn and I were in earlier that afternoon. That ought to keep the guards busy for a while, I think watching the spotlights swing in the direction of the howls. Greg, McCafferty and I creep slowly through the grass and arrive in the trees. The only indications that the copse is occupied are the lumps on the ground behind trees. I only know they are there because of the NVG’s and, well, because I know they are supposed to be there. I guess if there were a tension meter present, that would indicate we were there as well.

“Okay, Lynn, keep ’em down. We’re heading to the gym,” I say once we all settle into place.

“Copy that, Jack. Good luck,” she whispers back in the radio.

I tap McCafferty at my side. She nods and, rising, we head in a slow crouch to my favorite dumpster and fold into the corner. I take a step toward the pool building corner when I hear the faint crunch of a footstep. Fuck! Really?! I think as I turn and quickly motion McCafferty back to the dumpster. The step sounds close. I direct us quickly to the opposite side of the dumpster. We don’t really fit as there are two of us but we really don’t have much of a choice. We’re both hidden by the large green container but not as well as I’d like. I hear the very faint shuffling of footsteps.

“Jack, what’s up?” Lynn asks whispering.

“I hear footsteps,” I answer quietly.

A pause. “Jack, there’s no one there,” Lynn says.

“I swear I hear faint footsteps,” I respond but am confused. I don’t doubt Lynn’s words but they aren’t corresponding with what my ears are telling me.

“I don’t see a thing,” she replies. “Oh, wait, one guard just entered the light by the main entrance. How in the fuck did you hear that?”

“You got me,” I whisper. Funny thing is that I don’t hear the steps anymore. What I do notice is a slight headache but that has become the norm lately. I also know I’m in for the ‘you can hear just fine’ conversation later. Providing there is a later.

Lynn keeps me abreast of the guard’s position and it’s obvious my roving friend has returned. He is heading our way and the teams in the trees make themselves deep, dark holes. The flashlight arrives in much the same manner as the previous evening. McCafferty is behind me in the corner. I whisper that we’ll let him pass but if we’re spotted, I’ll take him. If there isn’t time or I’m too slow, she’s to take him out. I quietly hand her my M-4 and take out my six-inch, double-bladed knife. The flashlight on the ground in front of me advances.

My adrenals kick into a higher gear. Guards close by tend to do that. I take a deep breath to calm myself, releasing it through the shemagh wrapped securely around my head. Then it’s back to the short breaths. My body is both tense and relaxed as the beam moves closer, lighting the ground in front of me. The radiant light it casts illuminates my knees but only barely. This location isn’t the best for two people but it’s what we have.

The light advances slowly and the guard comes into view. The grip on my knife tightens. I’d prefer to let the guard pass as he’d be missed soon if we were to take him out. He stops, occupying almost the identical spot as before only this time it isn’t for a cigarette. It’s apparent his subconscious has told him something is amiss. Whether that came from a glimpse out of the corner of his eye or otherwise, it’s there. He turns his head in my direction.

I uncoil and launch at him. My movement causes him to take a step to the side in an attempt to face me. His light starts a quick pan towards me and his hand reaches for the handgun in a holster at his side. Thank goodness for small miracles, I think closing the space between us quickly. Time slows. I see the beam of his light coming around as his other hand fumbles for his gun. His eyes widen as he sees a shape rise out of the darkness so close and flash toward him; knowing he won’t get his gun free in time. Knowing this doesn’t change his attempt to do so however. His mind is locked on what it knows. He throws his arm holding the flashlight up at the last moment to ward off the dark shape closing in on him. Fear and panic are written all over his face.

I notice he isn’t wearing a vest nor is there the bulk of one under his shirt. I bring my hand up over his upraised arm on my second step and fold around behind him. My hand goes to his face covering his mouth and I pinch his nostrils closed. Stepping behind him, I draw my knife back and, holding the blade horizontal, plunge it under his rear rib cage on the right striking upward. The horizontal blade is in case I miss the bottom of the rib cage. If that happens, it will allow the knife to continue on its path through the ribs. I hold the knife firmly but with a loose grip in case I strike directly on the rib. This allows some flexibility to the blade and lets it to fold over or under the rib if needed.

My strike is true and the razor sharp edges rip through his shirt, pierce the skin, and enter the kidneys. The kidneys have a lot of blood vessels and nerve endings. A knife to the kidneys causes so much pain that the person becomes almost immobilized and bleeds out quickly. I feel the guard’s body stiffen in my grasp and any struggle that was there before ceases. I quickly twist my knife from side to side and then vertical. Warm blood washes over my hand. Another spasm and the guard begins to go limp, dropping the flashlight to the ground with its beam illuminating a small path toward the tennis courts.

I withdraw my blade, pull the body tightly against me to prevent it from falling, and drag it quickly into the trees. McCafferty is right there, reaches down, and turns the flashlight off. Easing the body to the ground in the trees, I know that our time is now limited. The guard is expected back by someone at some point. My feeling is that point in time is not far off as I remember him entering the rear entrance shortly after passing by me two nights prior. I do a quick search, find his radio, and turn it off so the noise of any radio calls won’t put the teams still in the trees in danger.

“We have two choices,” I tell McCafferty as she returns my M-4. “We can either go in with our previously planned entry or go in the rear entrance. Whoever is there will think it’s their buddy coming in and, if there are only one or two guards, we can clear it quickly. He’s going to be missed soon.”

“I think our original route is the safer and easier way, sir, but if the alarm is sounded or his buddies go looking for him, that changes everything,” McCafferty replies.

“I agree. I’m not a big fan of the light over the entrance. I think we should go in as we planned. We’ll have to be quicker than I like inside but I don’t see that we have a choice,” I say.

“Lead on, sir,” she responds.

We rise and head to the corner of the pool building with Lynn and the group helping to keep a watch. Several shrieks sound from both sides of the camp and faint ones answer from farther away. The night runners may or may not help. They will at least keep the tower guards busy looking outside the camp but if there get to be too many night runners, then the guards may wake the others. Maybe the steak idea wasn’t so great after all.

I slip around the corner and head quickly for the pool entrance door. I hear the soft tread of McCafferty’s boots behind. A quick listen and peek inside shows nothing but the same pattern of lights from the pool splashing against the walls and ceiling. We fold inside shutting the door quietly. Quickly slipping up to the locker room, I listen and edge into the darkened room lit only by our goggles. My pulse is racing. I don’t like to move too fast but sometimes situations dictate moving quickly. This is one of those times. If the guard’s friends start roaming around looking for him, noise is bound to happen.

I grab a couple of towels and stick them in my vest. A quick listen at the hallway door and we are in it. I go to the right this time heading to the rear entrance. I have McCafferty keep an eye behind as we slink down the long hallway. A faint pattern of lights splay against the side wall by both the small window leading into the gym and the larger ones leading into the rear entrance foyer. I glance quickly into the gym. The two guards are still watching over the main gym from the upper level. I move on. I look into the foyer through the nearest large glass pane of the double doors. A guard is peering out through one of the exterior door windows with his hand cupped around his eyes. His head looks back and forth apparently searching for his friend.

“There’s only one and he’s anxious,” I whisper to McCafferty. “Handguns only. I’ll take him and you cover.”

We crouch under the glass panes with our shoulders to the door. I double one of the towels over my gun leaving the barrel free, nod, and we push outward. The guard turns at the opening of the doors but is too late. I center on the mass of his body. A clap fills the foyer as my sub-sonic round leaves the chamber and intersects with his chest staggering him backward into the doors. He kicks a chair and sends it scooting a short distance across the linoleum floor. Recovering quickly from the light kick, I aim again and I press lightly on the trigger. Another clap and blood erupts from his face spraying a pattern on the glass pane. The tinkling of the brass cartridges hitting the floor follows but stops after a couple of bounces. He slides down a metal pole between the two doors. His feet kick out and he falls to a sitting position, resting momentarily, and then slumps over.

I point to the heavy steel doors and windows leading into the main gym. McCafferty edges over and peers in. She turns and gives a thumbs up indicating that no one seems to have heard our little ruckus. I nod and walk over to the body keeping my gun ready in case the guard decides to rise and give us trouble. I see a small hole in his shirt from the first round entering just offset from the sternum close to the heart and a large part of the left side of his face torn asunder by the 9mm colliding with it at high speed.

With McCafferty watching into the main gym, I holster my Beretta and drag the body into the hallway. I take a towel and swiftly wipe the blood streak across the floor. With the other towel, I try to erase a large part of the blood splatter that is now running down the door and window in streaks. Giving a quiet “tsk” to McCafferty, we withdraw back to the hallway. I toss the towels on the body and stalk toward the other end. The timer, meaning our previous short measure of time available, has stopped. We are now back on our own schedule to an extent.

I make a hurried stop in the locker room again to pick out a couple more towels from the large, wheeled bin. A look to make sure all is as it should be in the main gym, with a glance at Robert lying on the same cot he was in before, and we are at the doors leading to the main foyer. Two guards are sitting in plastic chairs close to the main entrance.

“I’ve got left, you have right. As soon as they’re down, get your M-4 and keep an eye on the gym as before,” I whisper to McCafferty. She nods and we gently lean our M-4’s against the wall.

I hand her a towel and we drape them over our Beretta’s. A nod and the doors are pushed open. She is quicker than I as I have to come around the opening door. The subdued sound of two rounds leaving the chamber echoes off the blue-painted tiles of the walls. The two guards, whose heads were just beginning to turn toward us, are launched off their chairs. One chair slides a couple of feet across the floor as its previous resident tumbles to the floor. The other guard takes his chair over with him. Both hit the floor with solid thumps. One guard attempts to roll over. Two additional subdued claps fill the foyer followed by a faint metallic “tink”. The moving guard collapses.

I point to the window and walk steadily across the foyer pointing my handgun at the unmoving bodies. Small pools of blood are forming around both. Again, small holes in their shirts indicate where rounds entered. McCafferty’s second round hit the guard in the throat and a large pool forms joining the smaller one. My second one took the guard in the soft spot under the chin. The open eyes are filled with blood indicating massive trauma inside the head. A large sound emanates from one of the guards and an atrocious smell fills the air. Yeah, that’s the part I absolutely hate!

My nose is assaulted and nausea quickly rises. I know, it sounds strange with all of the other sights but this affects me to the greatest degree. I back away glancing at McCafferty who gives me another thumbs up that all is well inside. She heard the sound as well, watches my reaction with a smile, and turns back to the window. I give a report to Lynn, pick up the guard who hasn’t shit himself yet and drag him into the hallway. Looking down at the other guard, I take a deep breath and drag him across the floor. The trail he leaves behind is a significantly different color than the first one. If anything, the stench gets worse. I drop him on his buddy, grab my M-4 and exit the hall with speed.

Doing my best to not silhouette myself in the door windows leading outside, I do a hasty cleanup with the towels using my boots to scoot the towels along. I am not cleaning that up with my hands.

“You okay?” McCafferty asks as I join her.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I answer. “The only way to the upper gym is by a flight of stairs on either side of the main gym. You keep a watch and signal when they’re not watching. I’m going to the far door and I’ll enter when you tell me.”

“Why don’t we just take them out from here? It’s an easy shot, sir,” She asks.

“There’s a chance, slim as it is, that we could miss or only injure them and they could call it in. Our M-4’s are significantly louder and our shots may cause some of those inside to yell, scream, or otherwise make a fuss. One screams and it’s like a fast-moving virus. It’s contagious. Anything heard outside of the building and their cavalry will come running. We can’t afford that. The teams outside are vulnerable,” I whisper.

She nods and I head down to the main gym entry door closest to the stairs. It pulls outward and I grab the handles waiting for McCafferty’s signal. My impatience grows as the others are still outside and, although hidden, at risk of discovery. McCafferty finally raises her arm and brings it down sharply, pointing at me. I pull the door open quietly, slip inside staying against the wall, and quickly move in a crouch to the door leading to the upper gym stairs. The main gym is still dimly lit but my vision is clear. Reaching the door, I know I am hidden from the guards by the folded bleachers.

“You’re clear,” McCafferty’s voice comes quietly through my earpiece.

I look over at Robert and see him, across the gym floor, staring up at the ceiling. He moves his head looking around. Soon, Son, soon, I think slowly opening the stair door. I creep silently up the stairs. Reaching the top landing, the doors are the same as most of the other gym doors, a small window inset to the door that limits the view. I suppose this configuration cuts down on the glass repair purchases by the school district but it certainly isn’t helping me.

I can’t see the guards no matter how much I twist and turn my head in the small window even with the goggles up. I ease the door open a crack and am rewarded by a view of the guard’s backs.

“If they turn quickly, enter and take a shot,” I whisper to McCafferty.

“Will do, sir,” she replies.

I leave my M-4 against the wall and ease the door open more. It’s an awkward angle as just the slightest head turn will allow either one of them to see me in their peripheral. It’s dim here as well but I’m anything but invisible. I edge quietly and directly to the middle of the floor to prevent that slight head turn from seeing me. They are standing close together but I can’t hear any of their conversation if they are having one. I have my Beretta aimed directly at them in case of a creaky board or they suddenly decide they’d like to see what the far wall behind looks like. One small, silent step after another. My sights are visible in the greenish glow and centered on the guard to the left. I edge closer.

Robert lies on his cot feeling anxious. It was no surprise his dad was able to get in and see him two nights prior. He said he would be back with the teams tonight. Waiting for something to happen is making time pass ever so slowly. He glances up at the guards overlooking his area and looks around hoping to see some sign of a team member. One of his worries is not knowing what to do when they do come. Should he just stay put or attempt to help? Not that there is much he can do without a weapon. Maybe they’ll bring him one and pull him into whatever their plan is.

He stares at the ceiling with his hands behind his head. His thoughts race. Two prominent ones stand out. The first is hoping that Michelle, well, along with Bri and his mom, is okay and they all make it through. He thinks about his mom and finding her again. His heart lifts at the thought and knowing she is okay. The other prominent thought is trying to visualize what plan the teams will come up with. Will they be bursting in at any moment and take the guards down or will it be more of stealth approach? His plan would be of the stealth variety such as his dad used with the night runners in the CDC. Night runners! How are they going to handle that? He’d swear his dad said they were coming two nights hence. The fact that his dad was just a foot away from him in an armed camp brings a smile to his face. He sure would like to hear stories of his dad’s past but he stays pretty tight-lipped about those.

He hashes and rehashes the conversation but still comes up with that his dad said tonight was the night. He was able to tell Michelle, Bri, Gonzalez, and his mom. Gonzalez reminded them not to try anything even if an opportunity arose. He carefully looks around the gym again. He doesn’t want to look too much or try to make it obvious he’s looking for something. It looks just as it did before with no sign of anyone. There’s no sound of gunfire from outside either. He thinks about the night runners and how they’re going to get past them or, for that matter, exist outside the fence at night. There doesn’t seem to be any way the teams could get in during the day without being seen. No, his dad said they were coming in at night.

I guess they could set up a distraction of some kind, he thinks as time passes. Robert occupies his time by coming up with his own plans about how he would assault or infiltrate the school. He discards idea after idea as he comes to an impasse or an obstacle that prevents a successful conclusion. He’s been with his dad for many years so knows how to think unconventionally. That’s one aspect his dad set firmly in him; the ability to think outside of the box. If there was a conventional way of doing things, you could bet his dad would be doing something completely different. Robert’s thoughts go back to how he would plan it. He would take out a section of guard posts first. Of course that would depend on how they operated at night and their radio procedures if they had any. This place wouldn’t be too hard but the classrooms would be a different story. There are a lot of guards around so it depends on their response. The plan in Robert’s head centers on locating and taking out the barracks first. Keeping the hostages out of the line of fire would be important as well. He starts calculating the number of teams he would need in order to do all he’s come up with.

The young kid closest to the door stirs. Robert turns his head slowly to look thinking perhaps his dad is slithering on the floor coming to let him know he’s here. If his dad offers to take him and help free Michelle, he’s definitely jumping on that. He doesn’t see anything other than the boy settling back down and pulling the thin cover up having apparently rolled over. A bit of wind escapes from the boy and Robert shakes his head. He focuses back on the ceiling to continue his thoughts; waiting. He looks over the far side of the gym momentarily. A glimmer of movement catches his eye. Was that the door to the upper gym closing? He thinks so but he’s not really sure he even saw anything move. His thoughts idle back to the number of team members he’d need as he ponders where he’d put them and what they’d have to do to get everyone out. Two muted claps in rapid succession echo from the upper gym followed by two equally muted thumps. He looks to the upper gym railing to see the guards have vanished. He smiles. The teams are here.

The two guards drop heavily to the floor with most of their faces obliterated. The two rounds entered close at the base of their skulls and traveled upward by the angle of my shots. The exit wounds removed most of their sinus cavities on one side. They will definitely need closed-casket funerals. A little of the fine red mist still hangs in the air before gravity takes effect and brings the tiny droplets downward joining the meaty chunks that have already fallen. I’m not concerned about hiding the bodies as the gym is now clear. If anyone who matters makes it this far, we’ll have already been done for.

“Lynn, the gym is clear. You’re up,” I say. “Bring everyone in via the gym door so we aren’t spotlighted by the outside light.”

“Copy that, Jack, we’re heading in. Keep the doors open. Call you soon,” she responds.

I head downstairs to see several people have woken and are sitting on their cots. McCafferty has entered and is going from cot to cot waking the young, old, and middle-aged, holding a finger to her lips as she wakes each one. Robert is mimicking her actions. I walk over and give him a big hug.

“I wasn’t looking hard but I never saw or heard either of you,” he says as we release each other.

“Well, I’m certainly feeling the age thing and definitely not as quick as I used to be. We were almost caught a few times,” I say smiling and give him a quick rundown of the plan.

“I ran it through my mind and would have taken down the barracks first,” he replies after I finish.

“Yeah, I thought about that and there’s more than one way to do something,” I respond.

We wake the rest of the people in the gym telling them to keep the noise down and not to move. There’s a propensity to start talking quietly in gatherings such as this, especially with tension present, which quickly grows to a murmur and eventually ends in an all-out roar. Any voice is hurriedly squelched. I hand Robert my M-110, a spare radio I packed along, and have him guard the south entrance telling him to stay out of sight. I put McCafferty in a similar position by the north entrance door. I head into the pool, gagging on the horrible stench in the hallway as I pass through, and wait by the pool entrance door.

“Lynn, the gym is clear. You’re up,” Lynn hears Jack over the radio. “Bring everyone in via the gym door so we aren’t spotlighted by the outside light.”

“Copy that, Jack, we’re heading in. Keep the doors open. Call you soon,” she responds.

She takes a last look around to assure herself that all is clear. Several shrieks emanate from the woods to both sides of the camp. The sounds make her heart beat a little faster. The adrenaline, increased with Jack’s call, now heightens even more with the sound of the night runners so near. She rises and dark shapes hidden beneath the trees rise with her; the shapes transitioning from invisibility to darkened silhouettes.

Black and Echo teams dart across the road in pairs and come to rest against the walls of the classroom building where the women are being held. Lynn looks through one of the entrance door windows to a long hallway filled with lockers. It’s dark inside but it shows up in the glow of her goggles. Nothing moves. She slowly opens the door. The teams slip quietly inside with Black team kneeling by the lockers on either side of the hall covering the length. She crouches at the head of the line and listens. Nothing. The silence wraps around her. Action is close by and the tension can be felt in the darkness.

She knows the timing will have to be right to prevent any collateral casualties. Somewhere in the unlit classrooms lie Gonzalez, Bri, and Michelle. This has the potential to get ugly quick if any noise is made. The sleeping guards are just a building over and if they’re awakened by any noise, the teams will have their hands full in a short period of time. If that happens, she’ll have Greg and Echo Team pull the captives out quickly while she and Black Team cover their withdrawal. She’ll set up a line of defense and go from there.

She rises in the pitch-black corridor that once housed boisterous students moving from class to class; exchanging greetings, stories, and plans. Lynn moves silently next to lockers that are now forever silent; another testament to a time past. As she passes each classroom door, she points and assigns two team members to each starting with Greg and Echo Team. That way, they’ll have a leader at each end. She creeps silently down the hall assigning doors until she reaches the sixth and kneels with another Black Team member at the entrance. The silence and tension filling the interior of the hall is palpable.

Her heart pounds as she reaches the door. She doesn’t know exactly what she will see once the door swings open but is relying on Jack’s description. She would use the fiberscopes but knows, with the low point of view, that it will not give her what she needs. She feels her heart pounding; felt even in her cheeks. The plan is for all teams to open the doors at the same time, rush in, and clear the guards quickly. It’s important to immediately start quieting the people lying on their cots inside. The sight of strangers rushing in with their goggles on and firing is sure to cause a panic if they aren’t quick with their reassurance.

Lynn looks back down the hallway. She sees just a part of each team member pressed close to the doors awaiting her command. At each door, one soldier stands a little ways back, leaning forward with his or her M-4 pointed down, ready to rush in while the other has the door knob firmly in hand. She sighs deeply to steady the tension and adrenaline coursing through her. Her thumb checks that her trusty carbine is on semi and raises her hand to the mic button.

“All teams, go!” She whispers firmly.

The once silent hall fills with the turning of latches, the slight squeal of doors being swung rapidly open, the metallic rattle of sling swivels moving as weapons are raised, and the squeak of boots moving on the linoleum floor. The rush of movement is felt more than heard. An almost imperceptible rush of air fills the corridor with the opening of six doors at once. Twelve bodies, once just darkened silhouettes against the classroom doors, vanish.

The soldier standing next to Lynn swings the door open on her command. The rush of air brushes by her cheek but it goes unnoticed as her focus is on the next three seconds. Reflex, movement, what her eyes tell her, followed by her body reacting. She sees lines of cots filling the room with drawn blinds across the windows; bookshelves to her left and right line the outside walls. With her M-4 at her shoulder and infrared aiming point on, she enters the room. Two men look up from behind a desk and begin to rise. A lit cigarette falls from the mouth of one, striking the desk with a small burst of sparks. She quickly moves further into the room with her companion close behind; the scuffle of his boots the only sound.

“What are…” Those are the only words one of the guards gets out as the thin light of her laser centers on his chest and her finger twitches; once, twice.

The two loud coughs of her carbine charges the room with energy. Two similar sounds erupt next to her right shoulder. The first guard is thrown backward into the chalkboard with a loud crash. Her bullets fly true, impacting in close succession on his chest. They rip past the rib cage and through the soft lung tissue before exiting the back and hitting the blackboard with two thudding collisions. Two blood spots flower on his chest as he hits the board and falls. He hits his chair off center and collapses sideways sending it scooting into the desk.

The second guard is hit in near identical locations and hits the chalkboard sending an eraser and several sticks of chalk flying. He too falls over his chair and to the floor with a thump. This scene is repeated in five other rooms. It’s all over quickly. There is no sound from the other classrooms. The sound of her suppressed gunfire covered any others. That’s a good thing, she thinks knowing that means they struck simultaneously.

Heads look up from the cots with her entrance, the guard’s attempted question, and the sound of their gunfire, quiet as it was.

“Everybody stay down and be quiet. We’re here to help,” Lynn says addressing the group as she directs her team member to assure the bodies are down for good. Lynn checks in with the other teams and they report the rooms are clear. Phase two is off to a good start.

One guard is apparently still in this world as she hears a gurgling emitting from behind the desk. It’s dark to the others in the room. The only sense they have available is the sound of her voice. There is a whimper from the far side of the room.

“It’s very important everyone stay quiet,” she says. “We’re here to get you out but we need your help.” Another shot rings out and the gurgling stops. Squeals erupt with the gunshot.

“Be quiet!” A voice commands from the darkened room.

“Gonzalez?” Lynn asks in a questioning voice and then locates her sitting on her cot.

“First Sergeant,” Gonzalez answers rising. The sound of one of their own talking to the invading strangers quiets the room.

Lynn walks over, shakes Gonzalez’ hand, and then pulls her into a quick embrace.

“Where are Bri and Michelle?” Lynn asks.

“I’m not sure. We were separated after dinner,” Gonzalez answers. Lynn gives a very quick synopsis of the situation and plan.

“Greg, start rounding up our guests. Black Team, fall back to the hall,” Lynn says into the radio.

She directs four of her team to the far end to cover the entrance and keep an eye out to see if they’ve drawn any attention to themselves. She keeps her partner with her to be able to support either team. Echo team members enter the hall and begin escorting the women out.

“Jack, we’re secure and bringing you company,” she calls.

“Roger that. Bring ‘em out. The outside looks clear,” Jack responds.

The hall fills with the shuffling of feet and murmurs of quiet conversation. Lynn breathes a sigh of relief. It’s not over by a long shot but they have the captives, are safe for now, and are on plan.

I step out into the dark night letting the door close silently behind me and crouch by the corner of the gym looking over to the office. I’m the eyes outside and I send prayers and good thoughts to those in the classroom building. I put a special wrap of protection around Bri. If anything goes wrong, she could be in the direct line of fire. I just don’t see any other way to get the kids free. I know the teams will do their best but once the first round leaves the chamber, all plans fall to the floor and variables are introduced.

I hear Lynn give the command on the radio. Seconds later, a series of quick strobes flash from the nearest classroom windows. It’s a rapid series, almost non-existent, and all falls dark once again. I check the office to see if the lights have drawn any attention. The same dull glow emits from the windows with no movement. I hear Lynn check in with the teams. It’s done. They have the rooms under control.

“Jack, we’re secure and bringing you company,” Lynn calls.

“Roger that. Bring ‘em out. The outside looks clear,” I respond.

I see the entrance doors open slowly. Two members of Echo exit and dart across the pavement to take stations near the edge of the trees. They will guide the captives to the pool door. The stars above provide a little light but the absence of the moon makes for a darker night. Two others exit and head to opposite corners of the building while Greg and the remaining Echo Team member crouch at the entrance door itself. Faces appear at the open doors. Greg gestures and a small group runs across the street to the trees and is guided to the door.

I tell each group to wait in the pool area as they pass by. I see Bri run in with one of the groups. I rise and meet her as she approaches, giving her one mighty hug. My heart soars at the sight of her. A tear of joy wells up in my eye and I feel the tension of worry evaporate. My kids are okay.

“I’m so glad to see you,” I say into her ear continuing to hold her close.

“Glad to see you too, Dad,” she replies.

I want to continue hugging her but time isn’t stopping for me. I release her and usher her inside. Michelle stands close by and I give her a nod, thankful she is safe as well. Julie stands in the background waiting for Bri. I can tell she’s a little confused. After all, I’m not her most favorite person in the world but the teams and I did just bring her out of the classrooms. Perhaps she doesn’t know what her position is with regards to the kids in this new world. I don’t know. She ends up giving me a tight-lipped look and turns with Bri toward the pool. I give Gonzalez a pat on the shoulder as she passes. The last of the groups cross the road and are followed by Echo Team. I tell Greg to have his team drop the claymores they are carrying by the door and escort the others into the main gym. He disappears and the door shuts.

“McCafferty, they’re on their way in and we’re up. Meet me outside of the pool,” I whisper.

“On my way, sir,” she replies.

“Lynn, they’re in. Head back and meet me at the pool door,” I say.

“Copy that, Jack. We’re on our way,” she responds. McCafferty arrives at about the same time as Black Team.

I have Lynn and her team help carry the claymores to where the guards have established their barracks. We creep through the silent building where the women were housed. The faint smell of gunpowder lingers from each open classroom door; a reminder of the quick assault. Wait about thirty-five minutes and there’ll be a lot more of that smell, I think passing the last open door.

We check the area before exiting the building and proceed quietly up to the doors of the barracks. I have Black Team leave the claymores and head back to the gym to help out Greg.

“Get everyone ready to start taking out the tower guards. Wait until you hear the first of the claymores go off and then start. McCafferty and I will wait here and clean up any leftovers,” I tell Lynn.

“Will do, Jack,” Lynn says giving me a quick kiss with her fingertips. Yeah, it’s awfully hard to kiss with NVG’s on. Black Team backtracks and disappears into the building we just traversed.

Crouching by the doors, with McCafferty keeping an eye out down a hall very similar to the one we just came through, I pull out the fuse pencils and line the claymores up. Taking a pair of pliers, I crimp each of the fuses and then place them in the fuse wells. I am crimping all of them quickly as the desired result is to have the claymores all go off at once. Any time delay between crimping them will result in that much time difference between the mines going off. It wouldn’t do to have the first one go off and the others explode into empty rooms. Kind of defeats the purpose.

Finishing with the fuses, I peer into the corridor through the window. Not only does the unlit building give me the creeps because of the experiences with night runners, but my proximity with people apparently causes them to have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be loaded down to a degree with the claymores which will slow any reaction time. I won’t have the time to place a set, go back out, grab more, and place them. Thirty minutes may seem like a long time but it passes by quickly when you are trying to be stealthy.

I edge along the lockers to the farthest door housing the guards. The stillness of the interior belies the beating of my heart. This is just something that, although one may get used to it, it never reaches the totally comfortable zone. Discovery can happen at any moment. And it’s sudden. A door opening just in front; a chance encounter that you can’t prepare for. If we’re discovered, the whole scenario will change and we’ll be on the defensive. Plus the fact that it will be hard to get out of this building in one piece.

Crouching near the door, I want to take a quick peek with the fiberscope. Time is not standing still so I can’t afford to take long with each room. The view is the same as the night previous; guards lying in their cots asleep. No one is moving. McCafferty is keeping watch in the long corridor. I remove one of the mines and extend the legs. They are capable of being set on solid ground and I want to place them up high to give an angle of coverage. Placing them on the ground will just take out the nearest guards. Granted, the others will be in a state of shock but they will recover from the deafening explosion.

I ease the door open hoping the maintenance people who prowled these halls at one point were liberal in their use of oil on the hinges. I step silently inside ever mindful of the guards sleeping just a couple of feet away. I gingerly place the mine, angling it slightly downward, on a bookshelf close to the door. I step back out hearing a few snores change patterns. A rustling of blankets. I stop and look about the room anticipating one of the guards rising; waiting for the shout of discovery. I’m ready to drop the other mines and begin a delivery of rounds into their midst.

I see one of the guards roll over and pull the blankets up closer to his chin. He hasn’t quite reached the realm of the awake. He stops moving and is soon joining the chorus of snores about the room. I ease out of the room and gently close the door. Time presses on and I’ll have to hurry the process. The last thing I’d want is to be given notice that the thirty minutes is up while I’m only partially finished. That would be a hell of an alarm clock - the remaining mines I’m carrying going off almost simultaneously. I’d just be a vaporous red mist and a memory. One minute creeping down the hall and the next a spray pattern on the walls, ceiling, and floor.

I hand McCafferty several of the claymores and indicate for her to take one side and I’ll take the other. She shoulders her M-4 and crosses the hall. We finally reach the last doors having placed the mines in similar locations within each room. No one enters the hall on a midnight bathroom run. Our alarm clock doesn’t trigger. We made it in time. McCafferty and I unshoulder our carbines, lie on the cold, hard floor facing down the hall, and wait. I ease the entrance door open a touch with the soles of my boots and ready myself for the concussive explosions about to occur.

Even though I’m ready for it, the massive explosions that fill the hall and surrounding area startle me. That many claymores going off close to the same time creates one continuous, rolling boom. The building shakes and the floor beneath me vibrates as if the linoleum is made of water. Glass blows outward into the corridor from the window panes. If anyone was caught in the hall, they would have been chopped to pieces. The intensity and noise of the explosions can’t be adequately expressed. It’s deafening. Smoke rolls out of the rooms and fills the hall. The back blast jars several of the doors open causing them to slam against the lockers with a metallic clang. At least that would have been the sound if I could hear. All that’s left of said hearing is a deep ringing.

The last tinkle of the glass, hitting the opposite walls, lockers, and doors, ends as it falls to the floor. Well, we just rang the doorbell, I think as I look for anything emerging from the rooms into the smoke-filled hall. I don’t see how anything could leave the rooms after that. After all, seven hundred ball bearings, propelled by a pound and a half of composite C-4, just erupted in each room. Anything left in the room will be leaving in a bucket.

“Time to go,” I say loudly to McCafferty. Anything below a shout wouldn’t be heard and there’s not really a need to keep quiet now. She nods and rises along with me.

We head across the lawn in the middle making directly for the office. Several flashes of light strobe above the roof of the classroom buildings; evidence of Black and Echo Teams, along with Henderson and Denton, dealing with the guards in the towers. I watch for any guards that might have been roaming through the camp but there is only the sight of spotlights in the towers either falling or pointing skyward. The ringing in my ears diminishes to a degree but is by no means gone. I look in the corner of one of the office windows. The main desk and area is lit by a single desk lamp. No one is in view.

This could mean several things, they could be hiding or out checking on the noise. I don’t have time to figure out which as I observe the last of the tower spotlights tumble over the side sending its beam of light twisting and spinning before hitting the ground. This is followed immediately by an increase in shrieks emanating from the woods surrounding the school. I see several night runners flash in the perimeter lights as they cross the street. The fence isn’t going to keep them out for long.

“We’ve got company coming. Everyone back into the gym pronto. Henderson, Denton, beat cheeks. Echo, keep them covered. Lynn, get inside and start wrapping the chains around the inside door handles,” I say rising.

With McCafferty on my heels, I dart around the office and toward the gym. Looking to the fence where I spotted the night runners, I see they are scaling the fence with some landing inside. The race is on. I’m just glad I have a head start but it’s even odds whether we’ll get the doors secured in time. More night runners enter the lights around the perimeter and race toward the fence.

They seem to spring out of nowhere, I think crossing the street. Night runners are pounding down the entrance road and across the parking lot; their pale faces glowing in my goggles and an occasional sheen from their eyes. They look like a horde of demons pouring from the bowels of the earth. Yep, I’ve been seen and am seemingly their entire focus like I’m the finish line they’re in a hurry to cross. I look to the gym nearby seeing faces in the windows and a flurry of movement as they hurry to seal the doors. Hopefully with me on the other side of them though.

I race through the doors and almost trip over lengths of chain lying on the floor just inside. Black Team has just finished wrapping chains around two of the four sets of double entrance doors and locking the chains with C-clamps. There’s no way in hell we’re going to get all of them sealed in time. Looking out of the windows, the first of the night runners are crossing the street just in front of the gym.

“Are Henderson, Denton, and Echo Team in?” I shout at Lynn.

“I don’t know,” she yells back answering. Adrenaline is peaking.

I grab a length of chain and start wrapping it around the push levers of the fourth set of double doors. Black Team crosses to the third set and drapes the first links through the push bar as the first of the night runners slams into the doors. The doors in front of Black Team begin to open.

“Hold them tight and get that chain on,” I yell as the same slam occurs at mine.

I’m holding the doors closed but they are slowly opening. I’ve given up on trying to loop the chain as all of my focus is on holding the door tight. It’s not enough. The doors are slowly creeping open. McCafferty is straining at the other door next to me. The linoleum floor isn’t giving us any traction and we are slowly sliding forward with the combined pull of the night runners outside. Their gray snarling faces are pressed close to the windows; mouths opening with strain and howls. Their stained teeth gnash as they sense victory and feeding time; their eyes alight with hunger.

I set my feet against the steel support pole between the doors and pull with all of my might. My arms, shoulders, and back strain with the effort. I see McCafferty slide a little more along the floor.

“Hook your feet like mine,” I shout and strain harder.

I don’t feel the door open any further but it isn’t closing either. It’s taking everything I have just to keep the status quo but I feel my strength and energy fading. My entire back and arms muscles are locked and my arms start to shake. McCafferty is holding her own as well but I see the beads of sweat form on her brow from the effort.

“I need help over here,” I yell knowing there isn’t any help to be given. I don’t know where Echo or the rest of Red Team are and Black Team is locked in a battle of their own.

Thank goodness there is only the small handle on the other side or this would have been over long ago. I see the night runner I am having a tug of war with directly in front of me. He is snarling with the effort. His eyes lock on mine. They are full of confidence and hunger and tell me he knows he will win this battle. They are eager. I see another reach down to the handle and begin pulling. I feel the door start to give more. My legs are locked and the strain is intense. It will end quickly with my body just giving out all of a sudden. Our attempt at rescue is for naught and brought even greater harm.

The night runner’s eyes open a touch wider. I see a set of hands close on the push handle next to my white-knuckled ones. I briefly glance to my side and see Robert leaning back; adding his effort to keep the door closed. The opening stops momentarily. In my peripheral, I see Gonzalez step in to aid McCafferty. We have reached a new status quo but the night runners are stronger. Although we have leverage on our side, it’s still only a matter of time.

The windows are full of faces of night runners trying to gain entry. Behind the initial front, other heads bob and move about trying to gain the doors. The press of the others behind is actually hindering the pull of the ones in front. If it weren’t for that, the door would have been whipped open and I would have been launched into the next county. That wouldn’t be such a bad thing considering the position we’re in, I think feeling my hands slipping. I don’t dare release to get a better grip. The howls and shrieks, scant inches away, are deafening.

Another set of hands settles on the push bar. I glance over to see someone I don’t recognize. Another joins with McCafferty. “Get the chains around the handles,” I yell through clenched teeth.

“We’re in and the back doors are sealed,” I hear Greg say in my earpiece. I can’t respond. Sure wish I had turned the VOX on.

The new set of hands leaves and I close my eyes focusing every ounce of my being and soul into the strain of holding the doors. I hear the rattle as links of chain are threaded through the handles.

“The doors are chained,” I faintly hear. My ears are roaring with the strain.

“Find the C-clamp,” is all I have the energy to say. My teeth are clamped tight and it feels like my head is going to rupture from the pressure. My fingers ache beyond any knowing. The muscles in my back feel like they are going to let go at any moment. I can already hear the ‘twang, twang” of them snapping.

“It’s done,” I hear.

The pressure on the door from outside releases and the door, only open a couple of inches, slams shut. The night runners have released the doors as if they know they are sealed. The noise outside rises as they howl and shriek in frustration. They begin hammering on the windows. Black Team has finished chaining their door as well. I can’t release my fingers as they are cramped on the door handle. Faces press against the windows as if they can force their way in. Their frustration is evident.

“Thanks,” I tell Robert and the others who showed up.

He and the others merely nod. The fact that night runners are this close is unnerving for all of us. I hope the doors hold or we’re going to get a much closer look. I’d rather that not happen.

I slowly pry my fingers from the door and am struck with the agony of unbending them. I straighten my back and know it will never be the same. My muscles are screaming. A wave of nausea passes through. The doors rattle back and forth as the night runners renew their efforts but the chains hold. I see several take off to the left. Oh shit! I forgot the pool door. It was my plan to seal the door there upon arrival but the effort here distracted me to the extent that I wasn’t able to get to them.

“Lynn, the pool,” I shout.

She is bent over with her hands on her knees catching her breath. She looks up at my call and glances outside to see night runners peel off in the background.

“Greg, if there is any chain left, start sealing the inner doors. If there isn’t any chain, use 550 cord,” I say into the radio. “Lynn, you and Black with me.”

“Lead on,” Lynn responds tiredly.

“Will do, Jack,” Greg replies.

“Gonzalez, McCafferty, Robert, help Echo with the doors,” I say pointing to them.

We turn and leave the snarling mass of night runners at the windows. The screams escalate as we turn toward the main gym doors. I have to admit it is very alarming to have so many night runners pounding on the windows and doors; their faces pressing against the glass. The doors rattle in their steel frames even harder. Time is not our friend right now and I hope the night runners haven’t entered the pool area as yet.

Entering the gym, I see Echo Team, with help from some of the others we’ve brought in, begin wrapping lengths of chain around the double doors leading into the gym proper. I head to the side entrance doors expecting a rush of bodies to blast the doors open. The doors open inward so there isn’t any way to seal them. We’ll have to seal the pool door itself. I look through the small window but only see the small band of light from the window, with my silhouette, against the far wall.

I cautiously open the door. The smell from the hall launches an immediate assault upon my senses. The muscles in my back, shoulders, and arms are tight from the previous strain. My hands are shaking a little on the door handle. My legs protest the first step into the hall. Nothing is moving down its length. The locker room doors open up to the side just ahead but only the occasional drip of water can be heard from within. The ringing in my ears has subsided but I can still sense more than hear the roar from the night runners so close just moments before.

Easing to the first locker room entrance, I crouch and listen. There is only faint sound of the pool lapping on the concrete sides. No slap of bare feet. No howling shrieks. Just the melancholy sound of empty rooms. Black Team enters the hall behind. I have Lynn post two team members in the hall covering the other locker room entrance and ease inside. Stepping quietly around the wooden benches bolted to the floor in the middle, I am startled by the sound of a door slamming.

The booming noise echoes in the air from the pool interior. Shrieks emanate from within. I rise and dash out into the pool proper knowing fully that night runners have just gained entrance. I knew the plan to rescue those held was going too well. No plan survives from first to last encounter. I had no idea the night runners would scale the fence and be upon us so quickly. The thunderous roaring of the claymores certainly gave them notice something was up but to react so quickly wasn’t something I was expecting.

Racing out into the pool proper, I go to my knees and see night runners pounding down the concrete floor by the side of the pool. The smell of chlorine is sharp as is the distinct odor of unwashed bodies. This is startling as I have never had such a sharpness of smell before. I feel a slight pounding in my head announcing the beginning of another headache. There are only a few night runners inside but I sense more entering. This is the first trickle of a potential flood. Their screams ring out and echo loudly off the hard walls at the sight of me. The sound of boots falling in behind me mixes with the feet of the night runners hurtling in my direction.

I thumb the selector to auto and fire a quick burst, sending the first stream of bullets in the night runner’s direction. My M-4 kicks into my already sore shoulder sending a spasm of pain down my arm. The rounds forcefully impact the lead night runner in the abdomen and chest. It spins in mid-step and falls into the pool face first. The splash causes ripples of light from the pool to dart across the ceiling and walls. The body floats on the undulations in the water its fall created. Crimson flows from the large holes in its back and spreads out from the bobbing body. The night runner twitches and then is still.

All of this is unnoticed as I switch to the next night runner in line. The pathway beside the pool is narrow allowing only two to three night runners to span its width. Muted barks of other carbines joining in sound out beside me and behind. The night runners in the front line are jerked from their feet to fall on the hard surface. One twists violently and falls half in and half out of the pool. It slides slowly, inch by inch, into the pool where it joins its comrade. Others fall to the floor slowly or impact hard with meaty thuds.

The second line goes down in the same manner. The shrieks of those entering override the sound of our cartridges bouncing off the walls and floor. I quickly look to make sure no one is directly behind me. I don’t want to rise in the path of a bullet intended for a target different than the back of my head. It’s clear as the soldiers to my rear are off each shoulder.

I rise and step forward delivering bursts of rounds into the nearest night runners. It’s important to push them back before they can mass in the pool area. If that happens, we’ve lost the room. Their massed attacks have pushed us out of every building we’ve been in before. If we didn’t have to reload, it would be easier.

Splashes erupt from the pool again as another night runner takes the plunge with its bullet-ridden body. The pool has turned to a light pink with the streamers of light on the ceiling and walls mimicking the change in color. More night runners pour in but we are effectively pushing them back with our combined efforts. The door is only twenty feet away. If we can get to the door and close it, we can hold it and tie it off.

I feel a hand grasp my ankle and begin tugging. The surprise and jerking pulls me off balance. I look down to see a night runner in the pool, one that I thought was out for the count, reaching up and trying to pull me in with it. The side of its head explodes splashing the water beside it with a chunky mass of flash, brain, and blood. It releases its grip and sinks below the surface only to rise bobbing in the swells of the pool. I look back at a Black Team member behind me and nod my thanks.

Lynn stands beside me delivering burst after burst into the midst of night runners entering the doorway. Her lips are pressed together in grim determination. The strobes from our weapons firing bounces off the walls; their white flashes in stark contrast to the gentle crimson streams emanating from the pool. I look up from the night runner that was inviting me for a swim towards the open door. My stomach is gripped by a sudden tightness at the sight. I notice with horror that night runners have fallen in the doorway itself. There is no way we’ll get the door shut. We won’t be able to pull the bodies away while holding the door. A sickening feeling descends; beginning at my heart and ending in my stomach.

“Jack, this is Greg. The night runners are pulling away from the entrance and heading your way,” I hear loudly in my ear piece. I stop.

“Pull back to the gym,” I yell to Lynn.

“Why?! We’re almost to the door,” she yells back.

I point to the bodies in the doorway and see the problem register. She stops with me and I see her shoulders slump although she and the others keep up their fire.

“Greg, get everyone into the upper gym and hurry. We’re going to be coming in with company. Take Echo and cover the far door from the hallway. Red Team, take 110’s and head to the upper gym railing,” I say as quickly as I can.

“Will do, Jack,” Greg responds.

I eject my mostly empty mag and replace it. There is a pause where everything is quiet except for the clatter of my mag slowly bouncing on the concrete and the lapping of the pool. Even the night runners have gone silent. It’s just one of those weird moments when all is quiet in the midst of incredible noise. It’s like when a room goes quiet just when you shout something inane. The night runners act as if they are confused as to why we stopped and are trying to figure it out. As quick as the silence came, it ends with a rush of noise; night runners howling and carbines firing with suppressed claps. Smoke hangs motionless in the air. Light bounces off the walls. Bodies float in the red tint of the pool.

My thoughts reach out to the next few moments. We’ll have to hold the doors leading from the hall to the gym. We lose those and we’ll lose the gym. We can retreat to the upper gym if we have to but the night runners will also be able to climb the bleachers with ease. We’ll take down a few more but the end will be the same. If it reaches that point, we’ll only be prolonging the inevitable if we aren’t doing that very thing right now. Right now we have to buy time for Greg.

A light goes off in my head brighter than the strobes flashing against the walls. I almost do a face-palm maneuver. We have the upper hand here and only one door. Why defend two doors when we can defend one. This is the only way in. I feel so stupid for not thinking of it before. My mind must be tired.

“Greg, belay that last. Get everyone into the upper gym and beat cheeks to the pool. Red Team, keep watch the outside entrance doors,” I say into the radio.

“Copy that,” Greg says but I can tell there is a little confusion in his tone.

Lynn pauses and looks at me in askance. I point to the pool entrance, “One door.” I point to the gym, “Two doors.” She shakes her head slowly. I can tell she is having the same reaction as I did only a moment before of, ‘why didn’t I think of that.’

“Hold this door,” she yells to her team.

Volley after volley center on the small entrance. Night runners are thrown back into the arms of those behind and begin to pile up at the door. I had a quick thought of using Echo Team to pull the bodies out from the doorway and Black to hold it shut but that thought evaporates as the numbers pile up. Minutes pass.

“Where do you want us?” I hear Greg shout above the din of firing and shrieks.

“Across the pool. Keep the door clear,” I shout pointing across the red-tinted pool.

The mound at the door piles up to the point where night runners have to climb over their own dead and wounded. The screams are deafening inside but our ears have become almost oblivious to them. One loud shriek seems to rise above the others. As if on cue, the night runners vanish from the doorway. The sound of our gunfire dies along with it until only the last clink of a shell hitting the floor is heard. It stops and silence descends. Now it’s my turn to be confused.

My trust factor with the night runners is not high. I don’t think they’d actually leave although they might go in search of something easier. It could be a change in tactics or they could just be going to feed on the marauders we left them. Whatever it is, we have a little reprieve.

“McCafferty, be on the lookout, they’ve left the pool area. Watch the ceilings, floors, walls, and everywhere else. Check your pockets just to be on the safe side,” I say.

“Okay, sir,” she replies.

We wait a few minutes but nothing is heard or seen. There are no distant howls or shuffling sounds by the door. Nothing whatsoever. It’s like they vanished into thin air. An occasional moan, whimper, or cry from the wounded is heard. I gather Greg over.

“I don’t like this. Thoughts?” I ask Lynn and Greg. They both shake their heads in puzzlement.

“Okay, let’s be cautious but let’s clear the bodies from the door and tie it shut. Greg, have Echo remove the bodies. Lynn cover them,” I continue.

We check our ammo supply and edge to the door with carbines at the ready. I am fully expecting some sort of trap or for them to anticipate us coming to the door and rush us from the sides. It’s an uncomfortable feeling to say the least. I’m almost ready to just sit in our positions and cover the door but I don’t know what they’re up to and want the teams to be ready and available for the unexpected. If we’re stuck having to cover the open door and they find another way in, we’re screwed.

“McCafferty, is there anything at the doors?” I ask.

A pause. “Nothing, sir. There’s not a thing in sight,” she answers.

The smell of the dead washes over me. The strong scent comes on quickly. It’s as if I have my nose stuck in amongst the bodies. It leaves as quickly as it came leaving just the smell of gunpowder in the air. I shake my head trying to ward off the atrocious smell. Stepping forward, I ease up to the doorway. The green glow remains clear of movement and only the still of the night greets me. One shriek lifts above the night. It sounds as if it is coming from the far classrooms but my ears are still ringing from the constant noise. My back feels like it’s going to seize at any moment.

Closer to the bodies, the smell of them once again comes over me but being this close, that’s expected. The smell of bodies long removed from their last introduction to soap; bowels releasing in death; bodies torn asunder. A few move slowly in the pile. I pull out my suppressed 9mm as I am hesitant to make any more noise than I have to. The night runner interest in us has vanished for the moment and I do not want that attention restored. Claps echo in the pool as I finish off the last of the wounded. Now only silence prevails.

The bodies are removed without any further assault. There are a few screams that rise in the night from closer by but nothing around our building. We close the door and tie it off with 550 cord on concrete bolts set into the pool walls. I feel a little more secure but the uneasiness remains. It’s not like the night runners to stop and give up. They behave like a wild pack without cognitive thoughts. Well, that’s not entirely true as we’ve seen them change tactics, but to give up and as one, that’s just not normal. My thoughts are still centered on them changing tactics and I’m trying to think on what those could be. Roof? Another entrance I don’t know about? Tunneling? Perhaps they’ve discovered artillery. I can’t think of a one that makes sense.

“Let’s head back to the gym,” I say feeling my headache worsen. The smell of the smoke and noise certainly hasn’t helped that any.

She sits in amongst the trees and waits. She senses other night runners around as she gnaws quietly on a piece of meat she smelled and located in the woods. She smells other pieces nearby but her small pack is busy with those. The lights from the two-legged camp can be seen as a distant glow through the trees. She and the other night runners have become cautious of being in those lights. She has seen the images from other pack members as some have wandered into those lights. The sharp sound and loss of another.

She is confident they could easily storm the camp and overrun it but is leery of running with the other packs. They are led by males and she is wary of them trying to take over. Some have learned the hard way to leave her and her pack alone though. The small one in her stomach warrants her care and caution. She will protect it above all other things but she, her small one, and the other pack members need to eat. And for that she has stretched her usual territory. The smell of the fresh meat was too enticing. Still, she sits warily.

There is a restlessness in the packs she can sense around her. She feels it herself but isn’t sure where it’s coming from. Perhaps it’s the faint scent of the two-legged ones she can smell around her. There aren’t any closer than the lair in the distance but some definitely passed this way earlier. The faint odor of them remains in the dry air.

Chewing on the meat, she reflects. Yes, she reflects. Not as you or I would but she has some of that capacity. She has a sense that she was someone or something else. Perhaps even one of the other two-legged ones at one point. If so, there are only a few vague memories of that time. More of a sense than a memory. Still, she is caught with a flash of an image from time to time; looking down and seeing small hands brush over a clean, white dress and knowing there is joy in the newness of it, a waterfall and glimpse of two-legged ones standing around smiling as her feet enter a cool, clear pool, a male hand reaching out to tussle her hair and she knows she is smiling.

She grabs the remains of her slab of meat and, sending a picture image of her small pack to follow, she edges cautiously closer to the lair ahead. She doesn’t know why, she just does. She settles back from the edge of the trees, just outside the light, and begins chewing once again. She sees the metallic objects that the two-legged ones sometimes get in and use to move about; that they use on the hard trails. She remembers and knows about some things. She remembers their purpose but not how to use them. That is far beyond her ability. Well, maybe not that far as there is a tickling inside her head, as if the ability to use them is just beyond reach. It’s both near and far away.

A thunderous noise reaches her sensitive ears and she shrinks back behind a tree; peering around its large base. Smoke rolls above one of the buildings far to her right. The sound is similar to the noise the sticks the others carry around that taught them the caution of the lights; similar but much louder. The sounds rolls through the woods; echoing off the massed tree trunks. Images of fear fill her mind from both her pack and the others lying close by. She blocks the images so they won’t overwhelm her, much as we block out the sounds around us, seemingly at will.

She looks into the large lair and around the edge to see if she can gain any clue as to what the noise was or meant. She knows that kind of noise is destructive but not what it occurring now means. Flashes of light emanate from a large, round building and she ducks further behind the tree; the meat falls to the ground forgotten. Some of the moving lights in the tall buildings that dot the edge of the lair tumble to the ground; waving their beams of light in random directions as they fall. Others tilt upward and the beam rests on the top of the structures. With her hearing, she can hear the firing sticks but they sound diminished in some way. The noise they usually make doesn’t fit in with the distance in which she sees the flashes of light.

Gunshots! That’s what they are called, gunshots. And those sticks they carry are guns, she thinks as another memory surfaces. And those are dangerous indeed. She senses uneasiness mixed with fear in those around her. Yet underlying those basic emotions is eagerness. Food has been scarce and if there is a chance to get into the lair where so much food resides, well, that’s where the eagerness comes from. It’s more anticipation than anything. And hunger. She herself is hungry and the one she carries inside must be fed. Still, caution and wariness carry strongly. Protecting her young one is at the foremost of her mind.

A hint of blood in the air reaches her nostrils making her edge further around her protective tree. The sight and smell of the two-legged ones causes something inside to rise; something primal. The two-legged ones heighten her already ferocious nature; multiplying it to a great extent. Their scent triggers this primal aspect and the sight of them drives the basic urge to attack and feed. Yet, they’ve learned. Oh yes they have. The primitive urge lies within her but fear and experience has tempered it to a more controllable nature.

The lights continue to fall around the edge. The smell of blood thickens. It’s apparently too much for some of the packs as they shriek and head out into the light streaking for the fence. Yes, she knows what a fence is. Their shrieks combine with their footsteps across the hard path in front of her. She looks into the compound and sees two of the two-legged making their way across the middle. Eager images reach her mind from her own pack. Wait, she sends back.

The other packs have seen the two and the primal urge within them takes hold. The first ones across scale the fence with ease but some become entangled in the wire on top. More packs emerge from the trees as the characteristic gunshots don’t materialize. Their hunger overrides fear as they see their fellow packs reach the fence and climb over. She hears howls from the other side of the large lair as others emerge from the trees there. The many packs scale the fence and it topples under their weight. She watches as the two she saw earlier run for the round building. The eagerness from her pack increases. Wait.

She isn’t certain of the two she saw. There was something about them that caused an uneasiness in her mind. It’s almost as if she could hear what one was saying. A picture image from the two-legged one almost forms in her mind, as if it just brushed or tickled against it. It gives her a troubled feeling. Her protective nature also holds her. She sits and waits.

Packs stream across the lair and pound into the circular building door where the two ran. Images form of a struggle to open the doors. She rises but still waits. The others with her want to be off to feed but they also have a respect for her; if respect is something they can even feel. She has led them well so they wait with her. She does sense the eagerness and hunger fill them as she rises. They want to be off and they feel her rising is a sign that they can join the multitude already at the doors.

She senses the struggle at the doors is about over. The images are basic ones but the overall tone is that they are about to break in. She trots across the hard trail, enters the lights still shining around the edge, and crosses the downed fence. She is eager herself but knows there is enough inside to feed all of the packs beyond their fill. They’ll get theirs but she is yet cautious. Too many close calls with the two-legged kind have made her this way. She has an inkling of their capabilities. Another quick image brushes against her mind. The image is of someone looking at her own kind. It’s gone as quickly as it arrived; almost as if it weren’t there to begin with. It isn’t an image from any of the packs. It’s different. She slows.

The howls from the horde around the building fill the night air. Eager, hungry. Suddenly, the shrieks change from anticipation to vexation. The ones in front of the building portals, doors, begin pounding on the glass in their frustration. The doors have been shut. She stops. Several break away from the rear to each side of the building. She knows they will search for another way in. Lowering herself to the ground, she sits and waits.

The ones in front continue to hammer the doors while the ones behind press inward. She pats her stomach and watches. She has known a few futile attempts to gain entry into lairs before. Mostly she has been successful at it but there were a few times when she has had to give up and look for food elsewhere. But in those nights of frustration they always found food. That’s why the ones in her pack have remained. Others would have joined but she is not a male.

Shrieks of discovery rise from the far side of the building. She rises. The picture images in her mind tell her another way in has been found. She can’t figure out why the images sent by the others are so, well, primitive. She can send out much more complex “thoughts” that convey so much more but she restricts herself to sending those to only the ones with her. She doesn’t want to draw attention to herself and be swept up and forced into another pack. She rises. They have left her alone and that is good enough for her.

Shrieks on the far side rise and packs peel away from the main doors racing around the side. Those diminished gunshot sounds rise above the tremendous volume of screams periodically. She trots to the side but far away from the main body of packs. A door is opened and pack members stream inside the door. Gunshots meet the screams and images of pain flash through her mind. More enter and more of the same images reach out. She watches and waits.

That primal urge has taken hold of the other packs. Once it lets go it’s hard to turn off. Still, she doesn’t understand how the others can’t see the futility of what they are doing. While they had a chance earlier, it is obvious by the bodies piling up at the door and no apparent gain that any opportunity to get in through this particular place is gone. But the urge is driving the pack. The night air is filled with screams, gunfire, shouts, the smell of blood; the blood of her own kind. Through all of this, the faint scent of the prior explosion drifts into her nostrils from time to time.

Wait, there, just below the surface is another odor. Fresh blood of the two-legged ones. She turns her head from the carnage and rises. Lifting her nose high into the air to catch that elusive scent, she sniffs turning her head to the left and right. Her pack rises with her and sniffs the surrounding night air having caught that faint smell as well. A small eddy of wind, so tiny as to not really be noticed, more a small pocket of air replacing another, brings the scent on it.

With a last look at the bodies piling up and another thought about how the others cannot see the futility of what they are doing, she heads into one of the nearby structures. She opens the door and that scent, once elusive, fills her senses. She knows fresh meat lies within. She raises her head and shrieks loudly. She would like to be the first there and get her fill before letting the others know what lies within but this is also a primal urge, the shriek notifying others of food nearby, and she can’t help herself. This is more deeply ingrained than the urge to attack the two-legged ones. Her scream echoes against the brick walls of the building rising above all of the others.

Silence settles for a moment across the large lair. The others have heard and have seen the images she sent forth. Complex images of available food and futility. She turns to see what remains of the other packs running across the hard trail close by to join her. Turning once again, she enters the building and runs down the long, dark hall lit in shades of gray. She enters the first room. She and her pack are the first ones in. The settle in and begin feeding. The remnants from the packs follow closely and begin feeding in other rooms. The images that are sent to her are reassuring. She has brought them out of danger and to food. They will follow her. She has her fill and leaves the room. Entering the hall and listening to the sounds of feeding mixed with the occasional shriek of satisfaction, she heads toward the entrance doors. Outside, she squats on the hard path leading to the building and looks to the round structure where the two-legged ones are laired. She ponders, in a much different manner than we are accustomed to, the brushes against her mind she felt earlier from one inside. She sits, she watches, she waits.